Broadcast

by Carried_Away

Summary:

“You didn’t answer my question, you know.”

“Oh?”

“What do you believe in?”

He thought about it. She waited patiently at the threshold of the door. Finally, Alastor just shrugged. “Sometimes, you don’t have to believe in the idea, darling.” He leaned forward until his face was mere inches from her own. From this close, he saw the little freckles that dotted her nose. “You just have to believe in the person,” Alastor said in a low whisper. Loud enough for her ears only.

-Alastor's ratings are taking a dive in numbers and he needs to figure out a way to get back on top. His show producer, Rosie, has the idea to bring on a local, ambitious young woman who is trying to start her own rehabilitation program for the city. The young woman who also happens to be Charlie Morningstar, daughter of New Orleans's most talked about politician. Alastor doesn't believe that Charlie's project will really work, but if he gets his ratings up, isn't that what's important? What he didn't factor, of course, was the chokehold that the young woman would have on him.-

Multi-chapter. Charlastor. Alternate Universe. More tags will be added as more chapters are added.

Chapter 1

“And once again sinners, thank you for listening to my broadcast, you’ve all been wonderful listeners. Remember to bring umbrellas, it’s forecasted to be doom and gloom the next few days down here in New Orleans. Up next is Vox News, who I’m sure has a lot of words to say without much of a point to make, if he even has one. Haha! Just joking, of course, I’m sure you can make that determination all on your own. This is Alastor, your ever-dandy Radio Demon, signing off!”

The on-air button shut off and a loud sigh was released throughout the small studio space. If the recording had still been on, the listeners of the Seven Rings Radio FM would have heard their favorite talk show host release a heavy sigh of exasperation.

Alastor leaned forward in his seat. A cigarette was already lit between his two spindly fingers, digits that he’d been told were meant for musicians.

“Ah come on, don’t be so dreary!” a woman’s voice exclaimed. It belonged to Rosie, Alastor’s right-hand woman and producer. She sat with him every hour during his broadcast, handled his ratings, brought on the callers, and gave her good friend pep talks.

Alastor was normally a jovial man, at least, that was the side of him that he presented to the public. He was the Radio Demon to the listeners of New Orleans, a man who always lightened the mood with old-timey puns, who spoke clearly and succinctly, who didn’t hold back on his opinions of the city or the way society was headed. He was a controversial figure amongst the religious demographics, who weren’t too pleased to hear “Radio Demon” as his chosen stage name, or his dry wit when it came to all things involving spirituality. Whether New Orleans loved him or hated him, Alastor had the hot spot in radio from five-to-six, was a guest speaker at multiple events and conventions around the year, and was even on several billboards advertising Seven Rings Radio Station.

He was untouchable.

Yet, as times changed, Alastor found himself having to change with them. His ratings were beginning to drop. The decline started last month, and if he didn’t nip it in the bud, his downfall wouldn’t go noticed. The last thing he needed was for Vox to surpass him in numbers. Just the idea of it made his blood boil.

Rosie, of course, wasn’t going to allow it to happen. “You need better guests, Alastor,” she told him. “You need powerful people who affect this city, people who are directly involved in the listener’s everyday lives. Our listeners need to feel like you’re right there with them, like you’re one of them.”

That’s what led to the suggestion that Alastor bring on Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of the city’s most famous politician. In other words, a princess with lots of money and a stick up her ass who’s way over her head.

Alastor fought Rosie, which was not a good idea. His track record with his producer over these matters were laughable at best. When Rosie showed him Charlie’s popularity amongst the citizens, with various highlights, photos, and articles praising how sweet the Morningstar woman was, Alastor had to wake up and smell the coffee (an expression he used often for others, but hated when it was used for him).

He agreed to bring her to his studio to prepare for her interview on tomorrow’s broadcast. His Friday numbers were always the highest. She was due to show up any minute now, and he hoped that he had enough time to finish his cigarette and get his thoughts together. After all, when he met this Charlie woman, it had to be all smiles.

“You need to be nice,” Rosie told him from her seat in her booth.

“Of course I’ll be cordial,” Alastor replied.

“She’s a sweet gal, lots of moxie.”

“Please, as if you’ve met her.”

“Excuse you, Mr. Grumpy! How do you think I got her to come onto our show? I have met the young woman, and I’m telling you, if you mess this up by being a jerk I’ll never let you live it down.” Rosie punctuated her point with a huff and took a long sip of her afternoon coffee. “She’s an incredible woman. Very passionate about her work.”

“Ah yes, her little rehab program,” Alastor said. His back was turned to Rosie so she didn’t see him roll his eyes. “Her father’s money has kept her from the real world, Rosie. She doesn’t yet realize that the scum who walk this fucking city are always going to be scum. A tiger doesn’t change its stripes, as they say. It won’t be long before this city chews her up and spits her back out a cynic. Just like–”

He stopped abruptly.

“Just like you?” Rosie asked. “Yes, I agree, Alastor. Let’s hope that darling gal never ends up like you.”

On cue, there was a knock at the studio door. Rosie stood up, but Alastor was up and out of his seat faster. “I’ll get it,” he muttered. He put on his fake smile, which was so practiced and polished that unless it was Rosie, it was believable. The last thing he wanted to do was smile; he wanted to wallow in his self-loathing and smoke a few more cigarettes. But he wouldn’t allow himself such a luxury; a practiced smile was mandatory, especially to new faces.

Never let them know what’s underneath the smile.

The door opened. Alastor saw the young woman who stood before him and realized two truths as he stood nailed to his spot:

One, that when Rosie showed him the pictures of Charlie, he must not have been paying much attention. If he had, he surely would have seen how beautiful she was.

Two, she was the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen.

She stood there awkwardly, her arms crossed nervously behind her back. “Uh, um, hello,” she greeted with a small smile. “You must be Alastor.” He didn’t expect her to say his name. Which was silly, because of course she’d say his name, but what he didn’t expect was his name to come out from those sweet lips in such a melodic voice. Charlie stood nearly a foot shorter than him and she wore heels. Her hair was tied in a loose braid and rested over her left shoulder. She wore a pair of gray slacks and a white blouse with a v-shaped neck, as well as a silver locket that rested just below her collarbone. Her bright eyes stared straight up at him, as if they somehow pierced into him. “Alastor?”

He watched her lips say his name. Then, he returned to reality.

“Ah, my apologies! Yes, darling, welcome. I’m Alastor. And you’re Charlotte.”

She smiled. “Charlie, please.”

“Charlie. It suits you.”

“Thanks! I’m glad you think so.”

Alastor stepped aside and Charlie nodded and stepped past him into his studio. He smelled her perfume as she walked by him. Most of the time the perfume was too strong and cloyingly sweet. Hers was just the right amount, just a tease to tickle the nose and invite him in closer. He was surprised by this thought and stayed at his spot at the door, temporarily stunned.

“Are you alright?” Charlie asked gently. She stood in the middle of the studio, unsure where to sit. It was obvious that the two swivel desk chairs were it, but she seemed to be waiting for an unspoken invitation. She had manners.

“Fine,” Alastor said. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Go ahead and sit down, whichever chair is fine.”

Charlie smiled. She poked her head around the corner and said hello to Rosie. “Nice to see you again!”

“You too, darling! Come give me a hug!” Rosie gushed. Alastor watched his producer jump out of her seat and envelope the young woman into a hug. Rosie was a good judge of character and she didn’t get excited about very many of his guests. Quite opposite, most of the time she stayed in her producer room and said as little as possible. If Rosie liked her, surely the Morningstar girl wasn’t so bad?

But she chose Charlie herself, this is as much an ego trip as it is business, Alastor reminded himself.

Charlie still wore her smile after saying goodbye to Rosie. She sat in the guest seat. She somehow knew which chair was his, although if she had sat in his chair he wouldn’t have corrected her. She reached into her pink book bag and took a rainbow folder. Alastor spied some kitten and unicorn stickers on top of it with a sticky note that read “BUSINESS”. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the dichotomy. She looked up at him when he sat down in his chair, just a foot between them. “What’s amusing?” she asked, although her tone was genuinely curious instead of suspicious.

Alastor raised one eyebrow. “I like your stickers.”

She looked down at her folder. “Oh. Yes, I do too.” She didn’t seem to pick up on his sarcasm, or she chose to ignore it. He had a feeling it was the former. Her smile never faltered.

Alastor found that quite interesting. He was known to “smile” a lot as well except his were mocking, often a deflection. “So,” he began, “It’s interesting that you agreed to be on my show. I suppose you’re well aware of my opinions on your father’s… politics.”

Her smile staggered. It seemed he found the crack in her foundation.

“Your opinions are your own,” Charlie answered. Her voice lost a bit of its enthusiastic steam. “But I would like to keep my father’s name off the air tomorrow, if it’s all the same to you. This is my project, my name, and I don’t want any of your listener’s opinions on dad to influence their opinions on me.”

Oh, what a naive young woman.

“Well, that’s not how these things work,” Alastor replied coolly. “You can try to ignore your name, Miss Morningstar, but you cannot erase your roots. You are Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter, and my listeners will not be smoke screened into thinking differently. It’s your project and your name, but tell me, is it your money?”

“Alastor!” Rosie chided from her office.

Charlie’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “Great question,” she said through gritted teeth. “As a matter of fact, it’s not. Everything about my rehabilitation has been from my own dollar and my own work.”

Alastor grinned. He couldn’t help it. If all it took was one question and one poke to break the Morningstar woman, he just proved his own point. The city was ruthless, unforgiving. If he broke her in his office with a few questions, then she stood no chance. Better that he break her spirit than the cruel world. “Your own dollar that you got from dad?” he asked.

Her eyes burned into his. “That I got from working multiple jobs, like waitressing at night between college classes during the day, working double shifts over the weekend, and riding the bus to avoid paying a car note. I don’t take my father’s money. Period.”

She seemed quite fierce in her answer.

Alastor sat back in his seat and stapled his fingers together, resting his elbows on the chair’s armrest. “See now, that’s what should be said on the air,” he said. “You need to come out of the gate cutthroat, Charlie. Let the people know that your work is on your merit and you have nothing to do with Lucifer.”

Whatever conviction she had dissipated into thin air. “B-but I don’t want to hurt dad’s feelings.”

It took great restraint not to laugh. Instead, Alastor just grinned. “It’s obvious to me that your own politics contradict his own,” he reasoned. “Your father isn’t exactly a fan of government assisted programs, let alone the ones that help the… less fortunate. Your idea is ambitious, I’ll give you that. Housing the crackheads of this city certainly isn’t going to be a dull venture.”

“It’s more than just housing them, I’m rehabilitating them. And they’re not crackheads, they’re good people who have fallen on tough times and need help,” Charlie argued. “They’re going to re-enter society with new lives and hopeful futures when they finish my program.”

“How sweet. And when they relapse? Because the relapse rate, especially in this city, is over fifty percent.”

“It’s only human to relapse. That’s why we offer continued meetings and support, even volunteers for sponsors, just like AA does. We can’t just shut the door on them because they messed up. It’s all about whether or not they keep trying.”

Oh, she was quite the optimist. Alastor wished that he had another cigarette, but even he could admit that it would be rude to smoke it so blatantly in front of her. “Hmm. It sounds good on paper, doesn’t it?” he asked. He leaned back in his chair and took a good look at the Morningstar woman. She sat so prim and proper in his spare office chair; her legs crossed, hands folded on her lap, and perfect posture. “But your facility is very new, and you have yet to prove that the program works, isn’t that correct?”

Charlie broke their eye contact. She flushed again, only this time it spread to her neck. Alastor watched her pale, exposed flesh. He imagined that it was soft, supple.

“We have yet to fully rehabilitate someone from our program,” Charlie admitted. “But we have a few patients, who are doing rather well! One of them is actually a famous adult entertainer!”

“A porn star,” Alastor said.

“Well yes, but the way you say it makes it sound like a bad thing. He’s very distinguished in his field.”

“And the reason he’s in your program?”

“Drugs, mainly. And drinking. And potentially a sex addiction.”

“Sounds like your hands are full, my dear.” Alastor chuckled.

“What about you?” Charlie asked.

“What about me, darling?”

“I’ve listened to your show a handful of times, Alastor. Even before Rosie reached out to me. You’re very well spoken and witty with your remarks, and you seem to know this city like the back of your hand…” Charlie met his eyes once more. This time, hers shined with a challenging gleam. “But you never express your own personal opinions, unless you’re taking a dig at Vox. You criticize your guests, and some of them don’t even realize it. But I’m no fool, Alastor. I might be young, but I know when someone doesn’t believe in me.” Charlie let out a shaky laugh and slumped forward. She laughed, despite herself. “Trust me, I’ve had years of experience dealing with scrutiny from dad!”

Alastor didn’t know what to say. No one besides Rosie had ever called him out so directly. Even his guests on his talk show would skirt around their questioning, and the shots they fired back would be much too easy to dodge. Charlie merely stated his disbelief as fact. It was a fact, wasn’t it? He didn’t believe in her cause?

“I–” Alastor began. He tapped his fingers on his desk. “I’ve been known to be critical, you’re correct. I’m a realist, Charlie. Not an optimist.”

“And I’m an optimist, right? Just a young woman who’s way over her head with her stupid dream?”

“That’s a pessimist way to say it. The realist way would be to say that you’re pursuing an ambition that takes a lot of work.”

Charlie shook her head lightly. “I’ve heard it all before.”

He didn’t know what to say. He was just telling Rosie how ridiculous Charlie’s idea was, but after meeting her, he couldn’t fathom saying it to her face. Her endeavor was ridiculous. A dead end. But now that he met her, he saw why Rosie said she had moxie. She certainly had the ambition to see this ludicrous idea to the end.

That will crash and burn, won’t it?

“Look,” Alastor said. “My job is to find cracks in your foundation so we don’t get callers who find them first. I know it sounds like I’m grilling you, but I’m merely bringing up points that my listeners and those who are on the fence about your program are thinking. People want to know if Lucifer Morningstar is involved. People want to know if this is privately or politically funded. Some people don’t have as big of a heart as you do, Charlie. They see a crackhead–” Alastor stopped mid-sentence, remembering what she chided him for earlier. “Pardon, good people who have fallen on hard times. Some people have their head so far up their own ass that they don’t care about those who are in more need.”

Charlie gave him a small smile. It made his heart do a somersault in his chest. “Understood. Thank you, Alastor. What is a good time to come in tomorrow?”

“Thirty minutes before the show should be fine, we’ll get you all set up.”

Charlie stood up and grabbed her bag. “I think we should call it and I’ll be back tomorrow. I’ve got a shift tonight, and I really should get going.”

He didn’t know what came over him. The thought of letting this beauty walk out of his office and back out into the world made his heart clench. Alastor couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way, the last time he felt entitled to another person’s presence. He was the one who swore he’d live a life of solitude, wasn’t he? More importantly, he’d just met her!

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Alastor stood up, his height towering over hers, and again he smelled her delicate scent. He led the way and opened the door to his studio.

“Thank you,” Charlie said politely. She looked up at him. “Have a good evening.”

Alastor couldn’t help but get lost in those big, doe eyes. Everything she said to him was scripted, textbook manners that you’re taught as a child. “You’ll do fine on the show,” he told her. “I can see that you’re more than capable of holding your own.”

“You didn’t answer my question, you know.”

“Oh?”

“What do you believe in?”

He thought about it. She waited patiently at the threshold of the door. Finally, Alastor just shrugged. “Sometimes, you don’t have to believe in the idea, darling.” He leaned forward until his face was mere inches from her own. From this close, he saw the little freckles that dotted her nose. “You just have to believe in the person,” Alastor said in a low whisper. Loud enough for her ears only.

“Is that so?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

“Sometimes,” Alastor grinned. Charlie left and walked towards the elevator. He watched her walk down the hallway until she turned a corner and disappeared. His ears were burning.

“Wow,” Rosie said. She walked out of her corner and stood a few feet behind him. “Just in case you’re wondering, the answer is eight.”

“Eight what?”

“Eight years her senior.”

He turned away from her before she could see him flush. “Enough of this!”

“You were quite mild with her, all things considered,” Rosie teased. She put her hands on her hips. “I’ve seen you go for more blood to our waitress at the diner, even the mail carrier that one time.”

“Those heathens don’t pay attention when a package says ‘fragile’ on it,” Alastor muttered.

“My point stands, you didn’t dig into Charlie. And I thank you for that. I like her, and I think she’s going to be great for our ratings.” Rosie elbowed Alastor in the ribs playfully. “I need to go to finance, we should be good to shut down for the day. Get some rest, boss. I’ll see you nice and early for rehearsals and notes, huh?”

Oh, Rosie. He often wondered what he’d do without her. “Yes,” he agreed. “Go on, Rosie. I’ll get the lights, I just need to review a few more things.”

She was already halfway to the door when he said it. “Don’t just chainsmoke all night! Get out and get some fresh air!”

It didn’t matter if her back was turned or not, he rolled his eyes. When the door shut behind her and Alastor was finally alone, he dropped his smile. He frowned and rubbed his temples. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, what am I in for?” He reached for another cigarette. Just one.

As he lit it up, he thought about Charlie’s big eyes as they stared straight into his. He thought about her grin and the way her pale skin would flush with pink.

His frown turned up into a small smile.

~*~*~*~

“He sounds like an asshole!”

Charlie turned bright red and waved her hand. “Angel, please! Inside voice!”

Her good friend (and hopefully her first successful patient) laughed and shook his head. “Unbelievable is all,” he said. “You were in there a total of what, five minutes?”

“Maybe ten,” Charlie said. “It felt like an hour of grilling. I was so nervous. I knew Rosie was there, but even she couldn’t save me from Alastor’s intense stare. He looked at me like I had a red dot on my forehead and he wanted to shoot me, you know?”

Angel exchanged glances with Cherri, another friend of Charlie’s. “Sounds thrilling,” Cherri grinned. “Eye contact is sexy, you know. It’s intimate.”

“Radio Demon,” Angel mused. “Did you get a look at his hands? How big were they?”

Charlie spun around and faced the bar. “O-okay! You two go away, I’ve got work to do!”

She went to work at her second job, which was a bartender at one of New Orleans’s up and coming clubs. It was quickly becoming a hot spot for any and all business class men and women who wanted to let loose on a weeknight without getting into crazy situations reserved for the weekend.

Cherri and Angel seemed content to drink their fruity seltzers and converse while Charlie busied herself with work. This bar was a decent enough job; sixteen dollars an hour and at least one-fifty to three-hundred in tips per shift. Tonight it seemed to be busier than ever and Charlie found herself bussing empty glasses, shaking tonics, and putting mini umbrellas into drinks more than ever. She was so busy that she didn’t think about him.

He was so pretentious. So assumptious. So rude about the way he spoke about her father!

So right, though.

Charlie nearly dropped a glass off her tray. That would have come out of her check. She blew a loose strand of her bangs out of her face. It didn’t help that Alastor was objectively handsome. His hair in messy curly locks, his big dark eyes, his strong chin. She liked his glasses, too. She understood now why so many women in the city fawned over the Radio Demon. She didn’t mention the small thrill that went through her when all of his focus was on her in his office. Sure, he was being a jerk about it, but he did seem very interested in her work and what she was doing.

That, or he thought she was a joke and he was merely entertaining her.

Charlie groaned. Maybe agreeing to be on his show was a bad idea. Surely she could back out of it. Rosie would understand, wouldn’t she? Surely she wouldn’t be too upset.

“You’ve gotta keep your nerve about you, Charlie,” she whispered to herself. She stood at the corner of the bar, tucked in the corner where the lights weren’t as bright. “You can do this. You can hold your own against the Radio Demon.”

She tried not to think about how intimidating it would be to be on his show, in his circus, playing by his rules. His radio show, his questions, his callers to chime in and grill her. Tomorrow will be a nightmare. If Alastor didn’t believe in her, how could she expect his listeners to do the same?

“Sometimes you don’t have to believe in the idea… you just have to believe in the person.”

Alastor’s whispered words played in her mind, as if his warm breath was on the shell of her overly sensitive ears. Charlie thought about the way Alastor looked at her as he said it; like he was on the cusp of believing in her, he just needed one good push. She could give him that push, alright.

And more than that.

“Okay!” Charlie squeaked. She lightly slapped her cheeks to snap herself out of it. “Enough, get back to work!”

Thankfully, the getting back to work part of her evening would be simple. While Charlie was busy bussing glassware, taking orders, and making drinks, she didn’t notice the new bar patrons who walked in just ten minutes ago. If she had, she would have seen Valentino, New Orleans most well-known club owner and pimp. He’d been around in the city many years and was untouchable. Crime was incredibly hard to pin on him, and every loophole seemed to exist conveniently in his favor. Charlie’s father, Lucifer, was right about one thing about the city: corruption was rampant.

If Charlie had seen Valentino, she would have ran as fast as her legs could carry her to warn Angel. He was in Valentino’s debt and worked for him. Long hours in the studio, all at a text from Valentino, with no guarantee for days off and no way out of his agreement. Charlie saw Valentino as nothing but a roadblock to getting Angel rehabilitated. One of the ways he worked those long, grueling hours that Val put him through was cocaine, cigarettes, and alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Charlie hated seeing Angel when he came back from one of his shifts under Valentino. His shine was gone. He was a shell of the friend that she’d come to love.

It was Charlie’s idea to make Angel block Valentino and enforce “boundaries” with him. After two days, Angel seemed to be less paranoid about it. Up until tonight, he seemed like his old self.

Then, Valentino happened to go into the very bar that Charlie waitressed and Angel and Cherri were at to drink and visit.

Charlie saw him first–it was impossible to miss him, he was over six feet tall and wore an oversized fedora, even indoors. But when she saw him, he was already in Angel’s space, closing in on the young man. Charlie’s face fell and her blood went cold.

“Angel, look out!”

Just as she cried out across the bar, Valentino’s deep voice echoed, “There you are, you little prick!” Valentino grabbed Angel from behind. His hand went around the young man’s neck and he hoisted him up and out of his seat at the bar. Angel cried out from surprise and fear at his arms as they suffocated him. “Did you think you could hide from me? In my own fucking city? Don’t you know I have eyes everywhere?” Val hissed angrily into Angel’s ears.

“Let him go!” Cherri exclaimed. Valentino began backing up, still holding Angel hostage. He nodded and one of his men who accompanied him in the club stepped between Val and Cherri.

Cherri froze in her seat. She stared with wild eyes but didn’t dare move. There was a very good chance that Val’s entourage had weapons on them.

“We’re leaving,” Valentino said. “Angel, say goodbye, because when I’m done with you, I doubt you’ll want to see them again for a long, long while.”

“Leave them outta this!” Angel cried. He tried to fight against him, but Val was the bigger man. His attempts were in vain.

Charlie knew that if she was going to do something, now was the time. She didn’t have enough time to think about her actions, she had to react. Without thinking, she charged forward through the crowd and jumped on Valentino’s back to try and knock Angel out of his grip. “Let him go!” Charlie screeched as she clung onto Valentino’s back.

The plan worked. Val let Angel go and torqued around to try and get Charlie off him. Angel dropped to the floor with an undignified “oomph!” but recovered quickly to stand back up. Val grabbed Charlie by the arm and flung her off of him.

“You little bitch!” he hollered.

Charlie landed on her feet. She staggered, but regained her balance. Her eyes blazed into Val’s as she stood between him and Angel. “Get out of here,” she growled.

Valentino laughed. “You stupid, stupid bitch,” he grinned. “What makes you think that you can stop me?”

Before Charlie could answer, Valentino reared his arm back.

WHAM!

He hit Charlie straight across the face. She fell to the floor immediately, face down. “Charlie!” Angel and Cherri hollered.

Val laughed at the pathetic sight. “I’m not afraid to hit a nobody, especially when that nobody is a dumb bitch who gets in the way of me and my employee,” he said spitefully.

Miraculously, Charlie got up on her elbows. She tried to get to her feet, but Val was quick to kick her in her side and send her back flat into the floor. “Val, stop it!” Angel cried.

“I think I’m having fun,” Val grinned. He reared his arm back to prepare for another blow.

“Is that so? I think I’d like to have fun now, too.”

Before Valentino could get his next hit in, he was punched in the face and sent flying backwards. Sending Valentino backwards was not an easy task, especially given his superior height. The man who punched him, luckily, was also tall.

Alastor grinned when he stepped between Valentino and Charlie. His hands were behind his back, he didn’t have his hands up in posture to fight like one would expect. Val sized him up. “Oh, don’t tell me the Radio Demon wants to play,” he growled.

“In fact,” Alastor said while keeping his grin. “He does.”

Val charged forward. Alastor dodged his left hook impressively, as well as the next few punches that followed. Alastor followed up with another hit of his own. One moment his hands were behind his back, the next moment Val was once again staggered back by another hit square in the face. The sound of Alastor’s knuckles hitting the bone in Val’s jaw made a large crack go throughout the bar.

The pimp’s nose began to bleed. He wiped at it and smiled. “This isn’t over, asshole.”

“If you want to continue, I’d be more than happy to step outside in the parking lot where there’s a breeze,” Alastor replied.

“No,” Angel said. He stepped towards the two. “Val, I’ll go with you if we leave right now. Enough of this.”

Val grinned once more. “Of course, baby.”

“N-no!” Charlie cried.

Alastor turned and knelt down to help Charlie up. Val and Angel left the bar in a hurry, and just like that, it was over.

“Hey, can you breathe?” Alastor asked. He held the majority of Charlie’s weight and tried to get her to her feet. She winced as she was lifted.

“Angel,” Charlie muttered. Her voice was high-pitched partly from pain. “He’s gone, he took him.”

“He chose to leave with him,” Alastor said softly. He decided that Charlie wasn’t fit to stand. He picked the young woman up in his arms bridal style. She was easy to hold, just as he figured she would be. Charlie’s face was tear-streaked. Her left eye was puffy from where Val had first hit her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” Alastor muttered. “I’ll kill him for laying a hand on you, I swear to fucking g–”

“No,” Charlie interrupted. She turned her head to look at Alastor. From this close proximity, Alastor could smell her perfume once more, but this time it was much stronger and much sweeter. “No more violence,” Charlie said softly.

Alastor nearly grimaced. “If you insist.”

“You can put me down, now.”

“No, I don’t think so. I think I should drive you home.”

Charlie turned that delightful shade of pink. “I can take a cab or an uber!”

Alastor was already walking towards the exit. “I really must insist, darling.”

~*~*~*~

Charlie had to admit that once she was inside of Alastor’s car, she felt a lot more at ease with the idea of this man driving her home. His car wasn’t the newest model off the lot, but it wasn’t old, either. It was sleek, well-kept, and clean on the inside. It smelled like cigarette smoke and fresh leather. It was exactly what she imagined a man like Alastor to drive, although the thought sounded silly. She didn’t really know him, did she?

Alastor slipped into the driver’s seat. The overhead light gave enough for them to eye each other. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked.

“Perfectly,” Charlie said. She answered too quickly.

“You’re not,” Alastor said. It was a statement, not a question. “Fuck Valentino.”

“You know him?”

“I know enough. He runs in the same circles as Vox.”

Charlie knew enough about Vox to know that Alastor wasn’t his biggest fan. That much was obvious on his radio show. “What were you even doing in there? How did you know I work there?”

Alastor chuckled. “Don’t draw parallels where they don’t belong, Miss Morningstar. I didn’t go in there because I knew you worked there. It was happenstance, if you must know. I was in need of a new place to drink, I thought the bar environment would be a good switch up from my apartment… I didn’t know you were there until I heard you shout from across the bar.”

Charlie shook her head. “Yeah, I’ve never, you know, attacked anyone before.”

“Well, I’d say flinging yourself at them isn’t really an attack.”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Alastor reached out his hand and brushed Charlie’s cheek, just under the spot she was hit. She winced from his touch but didn’t shy from it. His eyes were laser focused on her in the small space of the car. She saw that his own face was redder than usual. “Alastor…” Charlie began. “Are you, um, drunk?”

“Nonsense!”

“But you said you drank, didn’t you?”

“A bit. But I’m a grown man, Charlie, I know my limits.”

“I can’t in good conscience let you drive me home while you’re under the influence. That would make me the world’s biggest hypocrite.”

“Well, I can’t in good conscience let you go home without making sure you do so safely.”

Charlie huffed and crossed her arms. “I’m a grown woman! I can take myself home!”

Alastor tucked a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “I have a solution. My apartment is only three blocks from here. Three measly blocks. Why don’t I take us there and you can take the guest room?”

She certainly didn’t expect him to say that. Her eyes widened at the mere suggestion of it. “I, ah, I don’t know. I’m not really that kind of girl, you know, I usually don’t stay–”

“I’m not suggesting anything inappropriate,” Alastor interrupted.

Charlie hesitated. Her apartment was a good forty minutes away and it was almost 1:00 in the morning. She could be at Alastor’s place in less than five minutes and in bed with the guest room shut and all alone. She was exhausted. Her body ached and she needed pain pills to help.

“Okay,” she agreed in a low voice. He smiled. His hand ran down her cheek and lingered on her chin before he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “But just this once, and as soon as we get there, I’m going to bed.”

“Why yes, I’ll turn in early as well.” Alastor grinned as he turned the keys fully in the ignition and started the car. “After all, I’ve got a radio show tomorrow. I’m interviewing an ambitious young woman who’s trying to take this city head on.”

“She sounds daring.”

“She is! And we’ll just have to wait what exactly she has planned for us.”

Chapter 2

Summary:

It's the day of Charlie's big interview with the Radio Demon.

Notes:

Usually I only update once a week, but I had this chapter done much sooner! Humanized Alastor truly has a chokehold on me lol and I want to thank all the other writers on here for that, you've all inspired me! :)

Alastor had heard the excuse “blame it on the alcohol” many times in his adult life, and each time he would roll his eyes and disagree with such nonsense, even if he spoke aloud to an empty room.

Tonight, however, he found himself in a position that he would most certainly blame on the alcohol. The irony was not lost on him. It wasn’t until he opened the door to his apartment and Charlie walked in that reality truly set in for him; he invited this young woman into his home, presumably to spend the night.

He knew that if his mind wasn’t so muddled from his whiskey and tonics that he would have never done this. Alastor wasn’t known for his great track record with women. Well, quite in fact, he wasn’t known for a track record with women, period. He swore off romance in his early twenties and hadn’t looked back, even now when he was well into his thirties. Rosie didn’t count, she was more of his sister than anything, and even she didn’t know the full story of his younger days. He found romance too bothersome. Distracting. He wasn’t very good at it. It was better to focus on the things he was good at, such as pissing off people like Vox and Lucifer Morningstar, garnering an audience as the Radio Demon, and teaching his listeners a thing or two about culture and manners.

And oh, how ironic was it that out of all the women in New Orleans, the one who lingered awkwardly near his sofa was Charlie Morningstar, the daughter of his main target of criticism. Alastor was aware enough in his alcohol-addled mind to know that this was crazy, this was stupid, this was a bad idea.

Yet, he couldn’t deny how beautiful she was, and when she looked at him, something in his chest ached.

“Thank you again,” Charlie said. “Do you happen to have any ibuprofen? Or just painkillers? Anything will do.”

Alastor cleared his throat and snapped himself out of it. “Yes, I apologize. Pardon me, I haven’t had a guest in quite some time, I’ve forgotten my manners as the host.”

Charlie smiled at that. “Oh, don’t be hard on yourself. I like the place!”

Whether she really did or not, he wasn’t sure, because her compliments always sounded so genuine. Alastor didn’t think he did too bad of a job, if he did say so himself. His place was a two-bedroom one bathroom apartment, open living room and kitchen, plenty comfy for small get togethers. He kept his apartment minimal; dark leather loveseat, a matching leather recliner, sleek black coffee table, and an ornate red and black rug he picked up overseas one year in his mid-twenties. He had an old school record player and his collection of vinyls in a two-level bookshelf that matched the coffee table. Alastor picked up a remote and clicked the button. Jazz music started playing, low enough for background noise.

Charlie seemed pleased. She followed him to the kitchen. Alastor found it both strange and fascinating to feel someone follow him around his home. He’d been alone a long, long time.

“Will you need a change of clothes?” he asked as he reached into his pantry.

“For what?”

“For pajamas, silly girl.” She seemed surprised by his question. Alastor kept his eyes on her as he grabbed a glass, filled it with water from his sink, and handed her a bottle of painkillers with it.

Charlie seemed to snap out of her daze. “Sorry,” she muttered. “Uh, um, right, pajamas. No thank you, I’ll just sleep in my work clothes.”

He seemed displeased with that answer. “I can’t imagine hustling and bustling in a dirty bar and then sleeping in the same clothes,” he tsked. “It’s really no trouble, I have plenty of shirts and pajama bottoms, if you’d prefer it.”

Charlie threw back two pills. “Okay, when you put it that way,” she said. “I just don’t want to bother you anymore than I have, is all.”

“I’m the one who insisted.”

“Well, yes! But more than that, you got in a fight with Valentino for me! I know it was stupid for me to just, well, spring myself in there. I didn’t think he would punch me! I didn’t really think, period.” Charlie gulped down the rest of her water. Her entire face was beet red. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you know, I know I was reckless and dumb, but uh… thank you. Thank you for being there.”

There it was–his heart clenched in his chest. Alastor eyed her seriously, closing the distance between them until he leaned over her smaller form with his taller one. Wordlessly, he put a bag of frozen strawberries against Charlie’s cheek, the side that Valentino had punched. He sneaked it out of his freezer when she was throwing the pills back.

“Ah!” Charlie winced when the frozen bag touched her. She didn’t shy away, instead she held herself still and stared up into his dark eyes.

“My dear,” Alastor said. His voice was low, only for her ears. “Never apologize for standing up for what’s right. Was it foolish to throw yourself at Valentino the way you did? Well, clearly. But you did it to defend your friend and that’s the definition of courage.” He was surprised to see tears spring to the corner of her eyes. She blinked rapidly to try and coax them away. She put her own hand on top of his own, the one that held the strawberries to her face. “Don’t cry,” Alastor whispered.

“No one has ever said that to me before,” Charlie whispered back. “I–thank you.”

He felt like he would pass out from dizziness. He would have blamed the alcohol, but something told him it was more than that–it was the faint feeling in his head when she looked at him like that.

Alastor stood back up and let Charlie hold the strawberries, taking his hand off of hers. “Well, um, I’ll fetch those pajamas. And I’ll show you the guest room, whenever you’re ready.”

Charlie tried to hide her sniffling but it was in vain. “Yes, thank you,” she said quickly.

He had to distract himself. He went back to his pantry and took out a granola bar and a room temperature bottle of water. “Would you like any of these to take with you?” he asked.

She seemed to brighten up. “Ooh! Are those cranberry almond? That’s my favorite!”

Indeed, it was. He grinned, slipping back into his facade, and grabbed a second granola bar. “Follow me.” She seemed to have a pep in her step as she followed him down the hall. The apartment wasn’t huge, and the space between her bedroom door and his own was only six feet, with the master bathroom in the middle between them. Alastor turned on the light to the guest room. A simple bed, his work desk, an office chair, and a small bookshelf was the only furniture inside.

“Oh, this is nice!”

“You don’t have to compliment everything I show you, darling.”

“What do you mean? I mean it, it’s very nice.”

He shook his head but his smile remained. “Very kind of you. Wait there for a moment.” He handed her the water and granola bars. Alastor walked the short distance across the hallway until he was in his own bedroom. He opened the bottom drawer of his dresser and grabbed his old pair of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt that said “Seven Rings Radio Station Charity Event 2010” on it. He smelled the clothes to be sure they were clean. A bit musty, but otherwise fine.

These clothes will smell like her when she gives them back to you, he thought.

Or, even better, she’ll smell like you when she wakes up in the morning.

“Enough,” Alastor told himself. He wasn’t going to drink again for awhile. He staggered to his feet (he really needed to sleep off this haze) and walked back in the guest room. “Here you are,” he said as he handed Charlie the clothes.

Her eyes lit up. “Thank you!” She put the strawberries down and grabbed the clothes. “I think I’m all set. I really appreciate it, Alastor. I don’t know what I would have done if you–”

“Don’t say it, it’s okay.” Alastor wasn’t a fan of interrupting people, but he didn’t want her to get herself choked up all over again. “If I see him again I’ll need someone to hold me back. He’ll never lay a hand on you again, Charlie. I promise you.”

She seemed surprised by his declaration. “Goodnight, Alastor.”

He had to swallow his sudden burst of rage. “Goodnight, Charlotte.”

Then, he had to swallow his sudden urge to brush away a strand of hair from her face. He straightened up and closed the bedroom door behind him. He lingered in the hallway, balling his hands into fists. He forced himself to walk into his bedroom and shut his door. Once he was alone, the practiced smile dropped and he grimaced. Oh, how he would love to beat Valentino to a bloody, unrecognizable pulp.

Alastor made quick work of changing into his pajamas and taking off his glasses and watch. He was in his bed in record time and laid there as still as a statue.

He had a full blown erection, his first one in quite a long time.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tomorrow was the interview. He’d ask Charlie the necessary questions, send her on her way, and they wouldn’t see each other ever again. That was show business. Hell, that was the radio business. He’d go back to how things were before he met her almost ten hours ago, whatever strange hold she had on him would die down, his ratings would shoot back up, Rosie would gloat about her idea working, and he’d go back to normal.

Alastor fell asleep thinking about Charlie’s big, bright eyes with tears brimming in the corners of them.

~*~*~*~

Charlie was more emotionally exhausted than she’d been in awhile. It took every bit of willpower to keep it together, but when Alastor shut the door, she allowed the tears to break loose and sobbed into his pillow. She was glad for his black pillow cases, that way her mascara and tears would go unnoticed. Between Angel Dust, Valentino, and being in a man’s apartment who was basically a stranger, Charlie felt like a complete fool.

How was she going to pull herself together for the big interview tomorrow?

She cried and cried, until two in the morning turned into three in the morning. Charlie sniffled, finally out of tears, and changed into the pajamas Alastor lent her. It smelled like him. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was until she downed half of the water bottle. She quickly ate her two granola bars (the best fucking granola bars she’d ever had in her life) and finished off her water bottle.

“Sleep, Charlie,” she commanded herself. As if that would work.

She crawled into his guest bed and rolled over onto her side. Finally, in the silence, she heard the rain that hit the window pane. Didn’t Alastor predict rain in his earlier broadcast? She closed her eyes and tried to forget everything. She tried to focus on the rain.

Briefly, she wondered if Alastor was asleep yet.

”Never apologize for standing up for what’s right.”

Alastor’s words played in her mind like a record on repeat. She’d never forget those words. They carried her into a listless slumber.

~*~*~*~

“Alastor! There you are, is your phone off?”

Rosie waited for him in the lobby of the station. She had her headphones off and around her neck, which told Alastor that she’d been there awhile to play around with the sound checks. If it had been anyone other than Rosie, Alastor would have seemed normal, albeit a little rushed. He was a very punctual man who was twenty minutes late, not the worst offense for most people, but for the Radio Demon it was concerning. His hair was only slightly more disheveled on his head, as if he missed a few brushes with his comb; glasses on but slightly askew, and if Rosie looked close enough, she might have seen the beginning of a five o’clock shadow on a man who insisted to be clean shaven for his entire adulthood. To anyone but Rosie, Alastor looked just fine.

However, this was Rosie. His producer, his right-hand woman, his voice of reason, and probably the only woman who loved him like he was her family.

“You’re hungover!” Rosie exclaimed in a surprised whisper.

“Hush!” Alastor hissed. “Jeez, let the entire studio know!”

“Oh, Alastor! This is so unlike you! How wonderful!” Rosie couldn’t hide her grin as she followed her boss through the lobby and to the elevators. “I’ve been telling you for years to let loose every once in a while, but I didn’t think you’d do it before your big show. What happened, nerves? Charlie made you nervous? Can’t handle being with a pretty girl across from you for a few hours?”

He gave her a menacing stare. If it were anyone but Rosie, they would surely back off. But, unfortunately for him, it was Rosie. She only grinned wider, mimicking him and all the times he grinned at others' chagrin.

“I assure you, I’m perfectly fine,” Alastor said. “I just need some more coffee, a cigarette, and quiet before the show. Charlie isn’t supposed to be here for another twenty minutes, I have time.”

Rosie decided the kind thing to do was to back off. “Coffee is already made, it’s all yours,” she said. Her voice sounded too chipper for his liking. “How does it feel to be human? Not so much better than the rest of us now, are you?”

“Hush,” Alastor repeated. He would say shut up, but this was Rosie. He’d never tell Rosie to shut up. He didn’t think that he drank that much, but the morning he woke up proved otherwise. Not only did he wake up late, he woke up alone. It was almost one in the afternoon when he woke up. He immediately looked for Charlie, only to discover her sweetly written note on top of his kitchen counter:

I owe you a new bag of strawberries! Thank you again, I really appreciate everything. See you later, Charlie

She signed Charlie with a heart next to it. He didn’t know what to think of it. He almost threw it away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

All Alastor wanted was caffeine and nicotine, his two favorite vices. However, the elevator opened on the third floor instead of the eighth, and only bad news was on the third floor.

The elevator doors opened.

“Well good morning, piece of shit.” Vox strided inside the elevator anyway without a care. He matched Alastor in height but wasn’t as lean. He held a cup of coffee in his hands and wore his usual suit with the jacket off and the dress sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Nice stunt you pulled on your broadcast yesterday,” Vox leered.

Alastor grinned. It was show time, no matter how much he wanted to frown. “I thought so, too.”

Vox scrunched his face up and took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t know how you put up with him, Rosie,” he muttered.

“No no, don’t drag me into this, boys,” Rosie chided. She’d tried already to make those two get along and she gave up long ago.

“You know what I think,” Vox began.

“I’m sure you’ll tell us,” Alastor quipped.

He ignored him. “I think you’re just having a temper tantrum because your ratings are going down. And guess what, mine are only getting higher. So enjoy the throne while it lasts, but your time is coming.”

Alastor didn’t lose his grin. His eyes only narrowed. “I think it’s so funny you used the word ‘tantrum’, Vox, I really do. Considering that your show is just you having a tantrum about sports and politics. Your listeners love to hear you lose your shit. You should get your blood pressure checked every week.”

“You son of a bitch,” Vox growled.

He pushed forward, but Rosie pushed herself between them. The coffee sloshed in the mug and nearly spilled to the elevator floor. “Enough!” Rosie exclaimed. As she said that, the elevator dinged. “Come on, Alastor,” Rosie said. She grabbed her boss by his elbow and dragged him away from a leering Vox.

“Always the displeasure,” Alastor said curtly.

“You better enjoy Morningstar’s little girl while you can,” Vox said with a chuckle. “Because when Lucifer finds out, he’ll blacklist your ass so fast yo–”

The elevator closed.

“Jeez!” Rosie nearly screamed. She practically pushed Alastor into his office. “When is your little pissing contest going to end with him? Huh?”

Alastor let his grin drop. “He noticed about the ratings,” he muttered. “Fucking great.”

“He notices everything you do,” Rosie argued.

“How did he know about Charlie coming on the show?”

“I don’t know, people talk! Vox has his claws in everyone around here.” She headed towards her seat in the producer room. “Fifteen minutes for your pity party until Charlie gets here, tick-tock.”

Alastor had a cigarette lit by the time she finished her sentence.

~*~*~*~

“I have to appear like I’m ready for this…”

Charlie couldn’t deny that her hands were shaking from nerves just like yesterday. She was going off of four hours of sleep, two lattes with extra shots of espresso, and a gas station ham and cheese sandwich. She was a mess.

Angel texted her and told her that he was alright, thankfully. She didn’t know where he was but at least he texted her and promised to tell her more later. She touched bases with Vaggie, who wanted to know how the preliminary meeting went, and who wanted her to call her the very second the interview was over. Vaggie was one of her few good friends that she trusted. Without her, Charlie would have given up on her dream long ago. But Charlie was hesitant to tell Vaggie about Alastor. Not only did Vaggie have a poor opinion about him (“Charlie, all he does is bitch about this city/he doesn’t even like your dad/I don’t see him giving a shit about New Orleans”) but she also had a poor opinion about men in general.

Charlie gave herself one more look in her compact mirror. The swelling from Valentino’s punch was long gone, although she felt a bit tender. She knew this was a radio broadcast and not a television show, but she did her best to dress up. She had a lot of time to think about her outfit on the bus ride home, after all. She wore a dress of all things, one that hugged her curves and flowed out at the skirt that went up to her knees. It was a sweetheart neckline that stayed modest, three-quarter sleeves, and cherry red.

Never mind that Alastor seemed to favor red, the dress just happened to be that color, sheesh.

Charlie pushed open the door to his studio.

She immediately shrank back, cursing herself for not knocking first. “Ah, uh, hello, it’s me,” she said meekly.

His eyes were trained on her from across the room. He was in his office chair and a cigarette was nearly gone between his fingers. “Welcome!” Alastor greeted.

“Darling, welcome!” Rosie gushed from her office. “Get some coffee, darling, it’s fresh!”

“Oh, I’m much too caffeinated it is and I wouldn’t want to pee during the show,” Charlie said. She cursed herself for saying ‘pee’ out loud. Her mother would have disapproved.

Alastor motioned for her to sit down in the same seat across from him. Charlie felt her feet move her across the room but didn’t feel like she was in her body as she sat down. She was nervous. Finally in his close proximity, Charlie allowed herself a moment to take in Alastor. This was his element, after all, his radio show and studio. This was his job.

He wore a pair of gray slacks, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and tucked in to show his smart black belt, and a red vest with a few pens tucked in the breast pocket. He looked off somehow, although Charlie couldn’t say how. Everything about him seemed normal like yesterday; same messy locks of hair that went wherever they wished, same aftershave, and same smile. Charlie decided she was projecting her nerves onto him.

“We match,” Alastor noted.

Charlie saw that his red vest was the same shade as her dress. “Oh! How about that?” she smiled.

Alastor swiveled his chair away and swiveled back to hand her a pair of her own headphones. “These are for you,” he said.

She took them and put them on and around her neck, mimicking Rosie from earlier. “Why, you shouldn’t have,” Charlie joked. She made jokes when she was nervous, whether they were good or bad. They were rarely good, according to Angel and Vaggie.

Alastor pitied her with a smile anyway. “So the format is that I introduce you, tell my listeners about your goals, you speak a bit about your organization, back and forth, and then we allow a few callers on the show to generate interest. When listeners feel like they can air their opinions, ratings go higher, and engagement stays relatively high.”

Charlie nodded in understanding. “Gotcha.”

He leaned his chin on his hand and put his elbow on the desk. “You remember what we spoke about yesterday? That I cannot put a leash on my callers?”

“Yes, I understand.” Charlie fidgeted in her seat. “Look, I just want the opportunity to tell my story. If out of your hundreds of thousands of listeners I get one person who believes in me… well… it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Alastor’s eyes burned into hers.

“Hundreds of thousands is a little generous!” Rosie laughed from her office. “You give us too much credit, darling, but we thank you.”

Charlie broke her eyes away from his. “Well… how long until showtime?”

Alastor looked at his wristwatch. It was an old school analog one instead of a digital watch, a detail Charlie found amusing. “Enough for one last cigarette,” Alastor answered. He hesitated to grab another one from his nearly empty pack. Instead, he just sat comfortably in his spot and stared at the blonde beauty before him. “You don’t owe me any strawberries, you know,” Alastor said in a very, very low voice. That told her that this was a conversation that Rosie wasn’t invited to.

“You’re right,” she agreed. “I’ll buy you fresh berries, none of those frozen ones. The biggest, brightest, juiciest strawberries they’ve got!”

She didn’t notice when it was his turn to flush a shade of faint pink.

~*~*~*~

“Thank you, Alastor. My program is all about redemption. It’s my personal goal in life to give these people–my people, your people, our city–a chance at change and growth, and I hope to give them the tools and resources through my program. We won’t turn you away no matter the problem, and our goal is to get you healthy and in the right mental space so you can live your life and be happy. We just want these people to have the opportunity to succeed and see them succeed.”

Charlie felt the nerves disappear as she talked about her passion project. She found herself sat up and leaned forward into the microphone. It had been twenty minutes already, but it felt like five minutes.

“Honorable goals, Miss Charlie,” Alastor replied, speaking into his own microphone. “Where is your program being held at?”

“Heart of New Orleans,” Charlie said happily. She gave the address. Truthfully, it was the old building add-on of the hospital and used to be a fully functioning rehab center. But with government funding shutting off their program, employees dropping like flies to find better jobs, and poor upkeep, the once thriving subsection of the hospital was one disaster away from being history. Charlie didn’t want to admit this, of course, because why would anyone come check into a facility that looked like it was used as a backdrop for a zombie survival movie? It was a building that was (mostly) up to code and Charlie had contractors coming in very, very soon.

“And how would someone join your program?” Alastor asked.

“Great question! By walking in! We’re all set up and ready to listen and help you,” Charlie answered. Herself, Vaggie, and all five of their collective volunteers.

Alastor glanced down at his paper. “Very welcoming,” he commented. “However, it does raise the question of safety.” Charlie stopped smiling. “If someone who is mentally unwell, off meds, and particularly unsafe to both themselves and the people around them… are you equipped with the proper man power to protect the other residents, as well as yourselves? Sponsor safety is critical in these programs, as you know.”

Charlie bit her lip. He didn’t have to sound so condescending about it. Of course this was a dangerous situation. “We do have security,” she answered. “We take everyone’s safety as our highest priority.”

Never mind the time Angel got so drunk and Vaggie got so upset that Charlie had to pull her off of him, her own counselor going mad with frustration.

“Excellent,” Alastor replied, rather dryly. He seemed like he thought it was anything but excellent. “It sounds as if you have your program together for the most part. And you already have a patient, that’s correct?”

“Correct,” Charlie said. “And we’re happy to accept any volunteers in our in-patient program. I really think with a little patience and we can really feel like a community who cares about our people again.”

“Oh, I think you’ll need more than a little patience,” Alastor said. He looked at Charlie as he said so. Her eyes widened and she met his challenging gaze. He continued into his microphone, “There’s a reason why programs such as yours have been defunded by the city, time and time again over the years. The lasting effect that these programs have diminished, relapse is at an all time high. The people are fed up, Charlie, and some people don’t want to be saved. Some people want to die with their vices. Their drugs, their alcohol, their porn, you name it. You’re asking them to trade their comforts for a sense of community. What makes your program different from the rest? What makes you so special?”

Charlie felt her blood boil under her skin. He sounded like her father. The question, the tone, all of it. Alastor didn’t believe in her. He thought this was a stupid venture, just like her father. She was stupid to think otherwise. It was a mistake to fool herself into thinking that coming onto his show was a good idea. He mocked her from his seat. He thought she was an absolute joke.

She used every fiber of her being not to cry.

“Because I won’t give up on them,” she answered through gritted teeth.

He narrowed his eyes and seemed to mull over her answer. “And if they give up on you?”

“I’ll be waiting for them to come back with open arms.”

Alastor chuckled. Charlie could have punched him for it. “There you have it, sinners,” Alastor grinned. “Miss Charlie won’t give up on you. Well, we’ve reached the caller portion of our show. My producer, Rosie, has some callers waiting. Are you ready, Charlie?”

She swallowed her hurt. “Ready.”

“Caller number one is a local from the French Quarter, twenty-nine year old David,” Rosie said into the mic. “David, you’re on.”

“Hey,” a man’s voice said. “Are you housing these bums who walk in here? Your program isn’t far away from my house.”

“They’re not bums,” Charlie said sternly. “And no, we’re not yet ready for in-patient programs, we’re hoping to get more funding for that next step.”

“So what, these bums just waltz in and ask for drugs to help them feel better and walk back out?”

“Sir, that’s not at all how rehabilitation works. I suggest you google it for yourself so you don’t sound so ignorant,” Charlie growled.

Alastor’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t expect that from the Morningstar woman. “Yowza, Rosie! Next caller, please,” he said. His producer was already on it. She switched the lines and David was off the air. “Who is this, you’re on with the Radio Demon,” Alastor said.

“Hi,” a woman’s voice said. “I’m a big fan, Alastor, I’ve been trying to come onto your show but I’ve never had the nerve until now.”

“Great,” Alastor said dryly. “What’s your question?”

“Can you say something sexy?”

“No.”

“Do you have a question about my program?” Charlie asked.

“No,” the woman said. “Alastor, can you tell me that I’ve been a bad girl?”

“Goodbye,” Rosie said. “Sorry folks, we had a few duds, didn’t we?”

Charlie couldn’t help but think it was because of her. She wasn’t interesting enough for the listeners to call in and ask questions to.

Another caller chimed in. “Hello, can you hear me?”

“Yes, welcome,” Alastor said. “What’s your name and question?”

The caller was a woman with a British accent. “Call me Vel, babe. My question for Charlie is how she’s getting the money for this little dream of hers?”

Charlie balled her hands into fists. Alastor sat cooly in his seat but held back from saying ‘told you so’. He knew that he should have grilled her about funding. The listeners should have known in the first five minutes that Charlie was not associated with her father and this was her own money. But instead, Alastor listened to Rosie and chose not to out Charlie’s real last name or her family connection.

Unfortunately, that meant that she was a nobody on the air. Not Lucifer Morningstar’s ambitious only-child, just some young woman named Charlie who had big dreams in a city that would chew her up and spit her out.

“I’m not funded by any private companies,” Charlie answered. “This is a passion project that has come from my own pocket.”

“I see,” Vel said with a laugh. “Sounds like you’re using daddy’s money, baby girl.” Charlie’s face dropped as Vel laughed. “You didn’t think you could fool us, did you? I know you’re Morningstar’s girl, I recognized that voice anywhere! And you could have changed your name if you wanted to be secretive!”

“I-I am not using his money! I have nothing to do with my father!” Charlie nearly screamed. Her armor was cracking. She was losing composure.

“It’s her right to use whatever name she wants, even if she wanted to keep her last name out of it,” Alastor defended. He didn’t believe it, but he had to say something.

“And you,” Vel said. “How dare you try to pull the wool over your own listener’s eyes. Here I thought you were looking out for us.”

“How have I fooled you? I’ve brought on a guest to talk about her program, I haven’t tried to shill out products like some of my fellow broadcasters.” Vox was famous for pushing Vox-Tein, the new protein packed powder for busy business men on the go such as himself.

Vel laughed. “Please, like you believe the bullshit this baby girl is trying to push. Do you really think that Charlie Morningstar can redeem these people all by herself, without the help of her daddy’s money? Go on, Radio Demon. Tell us what you really think, don’t lie to us.”

Alastor met Charlie’s eyes. Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks and her bottom lip quivered, yet she remained strong in her ambition. This was his moment to either make her or break her. He felt it once more–the clench in his heart. If he buried her, she was done for.

“I–”

Alastor did something he’d never done in his career on the air. He stopped mid-sentence.

Vel laughed mockingly. “Go on.”

Alastor grit his teeth. “I think… that Charlie’s program presents a unique and specific challenge to our city and to us, listeners. I think the question if sinners can truly be redeemed is one worth pursuing. It’s easy for us to sit on our soap boxes and preach how difficult something can be, and another thing for us to get off our asses and find out ourselves! Which is why I intend to help Charlie and find out if people can really change their ways.”

Charlie froze. She was speechless. She was a statue.

The entire room was silent. Even Vel didn’t know what to say. No one thought that Alastor would say that… even him! He just knew that he had to say something.

Rosie, thank the lord for Rosie, bounced back first. “That’s right, listeners! This is part one of Alastor’s first ever ongoing series where he tries to rehabilitate this city! Surprise! We’ll have weekly updates every Friday about the ventures, as well as updates on our blog with pictures, interviews, and all the fun in between! It’s been a blast, but I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. Alastor, go ahead and sign off.”

Now it was Alastor who was too stunned to speak. He may have gotten the ball rolling, but what the fuck was Rosie thinking?!

“Uh,” he said. “Thanks for listening, sinners. Charlie, say goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” Charlie was too stunned to say anything more.

“This is Alastor, your Radio Demon. Goodnight, New Orleans.”

Finally… they were off the air.

“What the fuck!” Rosie shouted from her seat.

Charlie snapped out of her daze and shook her head. “What the fuck,” she muttered. “Y-y-you asshole! You’re not serious about helping me! You don’t give a fuck about my program!”

Alastor was taken aback at her rage, but he bounced back quickly. He finally reached for his last cigarette and lit it up without missing a beat. “Whether you like it or not, darling, we’re partners now,” he said.

“But–”

“Didn’t you just say that you accept volunteers?”

Charlie glared at him. “Serious volunteers only,” she said through gritted teeth.

He grinned. He felt more like himself after his first drag. “Well darling, consider this my formal toss in the hat, if you will. Unless you’d like to turn a sinner such as me away?”

Charlie gave up. She sunk back in the office chair and released a heavy sigh. “Welcome to the team.”

Notes:

And there we have it! Oh Alastor, sometimes it's not what you say, but the way you say things lol. I'm still laying ground work for the characters and the story, but I am hopeful for how things are setting up for the next chapter. I know this is rated E and I'll update with the appropriate tags when I get to the spicy chapters. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 3

Summary:

Alastor shows up to his first morning of the project and meets the rest of the team.

Notes:

Wow, first things first is I'm blown away by all the support and comments, thank you all so much! I wanted to have an author note before we begin, and that is that please take what I write about rehab facilities with a grain of salt lol. It's really tough when you take a fictional world (a hotel in actual hell) and apply it to the real world. I tried to research a bit into rehab facilities and I forgot to do so incognito, and now every time I open up my browser I get suggested ads for rehabs near me LOL. I just wanted to acknowledge first and foremost that I probably don't have the system right, but I'm trying, lawd knows I'm over here trying to cook xD

Anyway, enjoy!

While an exchange of “what the fucks” and “Rosie what have you done” was being thrown around in Alastor’s studio, on the third floor of the radio station, there was nothing but thunderous laughter.

“He didn’t see that coming!” Vox boomed with a big grin. He laughed so hard that tears nearly pricked his eyes. “Fuck, that was so good. That was so good. So fucking good.”

“Oh, come off it, it wasn’t that good.”

The woman who spoke was a petite woman in her early thirties with big hair, bold clothes, and always had a phone in her hands. She was Velvette, one of New Orleans’s biggest fashion clothing designers. She was a big name in the theater scene; if you went to see a big production in the city, chances were that the actors and actresses wore Velvette Couture.

She also happened to be the third caller on Alastor’s program.

“So Charlie was that fucking bitch who jumped on my back like a fucking squirrel,” Valentino grimaced from his seat. “Meddling bitch. I didn’t know she was Lucifer’s daughter.”

Velvette scoffed. “If she had it her way, no one would know! She seems dense, if I had Mr. Moneybags for a father, you’d bet I’d let the entire fucking world know it.” She leaned back in her seat and eyed Vox and Valentino, two men she’d worked with since her entire twenties. It was bold to say they were friends; instead, they had history and owed each other favors.

Today, Vox cashed in his favor for Velvette to call into the Radio Demon’s show. She didn’t see much of a point to outing Charlie Morningstar, but she dutifully did as Vox asked. One less favor to owe the prick. Not that Velvette was much of a fan of Alastor to begin with; she’d talked to him here and there over the years. People like Velvette, Vox, and Alastor tended to get invited to the same parties, a game Velvette liked to call “mutual socialites”. Whether Alastor went to these gatherings out of obligation from his studio, or because he was actually friends with the host, Velvette didn’t have the slightest clue. She thought he was boring. Dull. Stuck in the past. A has-been. She spied his analog wristwatch three years ago at the Jazz Festival planning committee. What an ugly contraption. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, Alastor happened to get a phone call, and he answered on a fucking flip phone.

Vox was amped up. He didn’t even sit in his seat, instead he paced back and forth with his hands going everywhere as he spoke. “We’ll just see how his ratings bounce back after this!”

“You need to do more than that, Vox,” Velvette said. “I got the ball rolling, now you need to make sure we make it to the finish line. You need to bury him on your segment tonight. Understand?”

“Yes, she’s right,” Valentino chirped. “Bury him six feet deep!”

Vox seemed irritated by the two. “I got it, alright? I know what I’m fucking doing. Burying him tonight was always the plan, you don’t have to tell me the plan, I know the plan! It’s my plan!”

Velvette exchanged glances with Valentino. “What do you have against Charlie, anyway?” Velvette asked.

Vox shrugged. “She’s just collateral damage. If she has to go down with Alastor, so be it. But her program sounds stupid anyway.” Vox pitched his voice in a higher note to imitate Charlie, “‘Oh look at me, I’m cute as a button Charlie Morningstar, my daddy won’t give me money for my program, wah-wah-wah, I want to turn everyone into little angels’.”

“She needs to leave my Angel alone,” Valentino snarled. “I don’t care who her father is, she doesn’t come between me and my moneymaker!”

One of Vox’s producers, a timid young man who had worked for Vox for a total of three days, poked his head into the office room. “Sir, we’re on air in ten,” he said with a shaky voice.

“Thanks I can fucking read a clock,” Vox snapped. The producer muttered “yes sir” and scurried away. Vox put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. “Great day to be me,” he muttered. “And soon, it’ll be showtime.”

~*~*~*~

“What were you thinking, Rosie?” Alastor growled. It was his turn to pace his office. Unlike Vox, Alastor took long strides instead of short paces, and he held a cigarette in one hand and his next unlit one in the other, ready to be smoked.

“Me?” Rosie asked. She had stepped out of her producer room. “What were you thinking? You just came up with this bright idea that you’ll help Charlie and then I had to go in and rescue your ass!”

Alastor grimaced. It was true. He hit his cigarette so he wouldn’t have to answer.

Charlie sat motionless in her seat. She hadn’t moved a muscle in the five minutes that passed since the show ended. “Why did that feel like an attack?” she asked.

“It was an attack,” Alastor answered simply. “You’ve got a target on your back now, darling.”

“But why?!”

“Who knows! Because you went on my radio show. Because you weren’t upfront with who you were. Because people find your program to be just another attempt at rehabilitation that will fail and they’re tired of hearing about it. I don’t know, truthfully, I’m just guessing.” Alastor spoke harshly as he ran his hand through his hair over and over again.

Rosie crossed her arms. “We made our bed, it’s time we lay in it.” Alastor shook his head and turned his back on the two women. Charlie looked at Rosie nervously. Rosie rolled her eyes. “Whether you like it or not Alastor, if you don’t follow through with helping Charlie, you’ll be dead in the water. Say goodbye to ratings. People don’t like people who say they’ll do something and do something else entirely. If you don’t do this, listeners won’t take you seriously.”

Alastor stopped pacing. He stood still, stiff like a statue with his back still to the room. “What…” he growled. He paused. His shoulders lifted up and then sank back down in a deep breath. Then, Alastor turned and faced the two women. His grin was on; the façade was in full force. “What time do I have to be at your center tomorrow?” he asked through gritted (but grinning) teeth.

Charlie stood up and wiped off her dress. “Try for nine. And I get that this isn’t how you thought it would go, I didn’t either… but don’t show up tomorrow and bad mouth my program, Alastor. I will send you home if you do.” She gave Rosie a nod goodbye and headed to the door. Alastor’s eyes were on her when she reached for the door knob. Charlie felt them burn into her back. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She looked over her shoulder and regarded him. “You didn’t have to be such a jerk on the air,” Charlie said with a slight tremble in her voice. “And I know you probably don’t care, but it did hurt my feelings, Alastor. I thought… I thought you… forget it. Show up tomorrow and get your pictures for your blog and then we’ll part ways. You won’t ever see me again.”

With that, Charlie was out the door. She slammed the door on her way out.

Alastor felt like a balloon that deflated. He finally understood the expression “wind out of the sails” because he felt very, very flat. He took the last drag of his cigarette, threw it off to the side, and lit the second one.

The tension in the air was toxic.

“Alastor…” Rosie said. She spoke carefully.

“Not now,” he muttered.

“What happened between you two? Why did Charlie look like a lovesick teenager who just found out her celebrity crush just got engaged?”

“Oh for fucks sake, Rosie.” Alastor plopped himself down on his office chair. He didn’t sit like a gentleman, instead opting to slouch backwards with his legs stretched out. “She should have listened to me. I told her. I told her! Didn’t I tell her? She should have led the interview with her name as Charlie Morningstar and that this project had nothing to do with her father and it was all her own money.”

Rosie crossed her arms and swayed her weight from foot to foot. “Just because you were right doesn’t mean you weren’t wrong, too,” she said gently. “This isn’t a cutthroat business decision for her, this is her father.”

He shook his head, his eyes staring out into space. “I think she hates me.”

In all of her years knowing Alastor, Rosie had never heard him sound so defeated. She’d never known him to care much for other people’s opinions of him. The only person he ever talked about in high regard was his late mother. But if Rosie didn’t know any better, she’d say that Alastor was bothered about the way the Morningstar woman left the office.

Rosie offered him a small smile. “She doesn’t know you, yet. But at least now you’ll get plenty of time together.” Her smile was short-lived. “Fuck, that means I have to be up and out of bed by nine. On a Saturday!”

~*~*~*~

While Alastor wallowed in self pity on that Friday evening, Charlie was being berated by her very displeased best friend and business partner.

Vaggie was so shocked by the broadcast that she got in her car and drove down to the radio station herself. She was ready in the parking lot when Charlie left the building and wasted no time to confront her.

“Where is he?” Vaggie asked, her teeth bared. “I’ll teach that self-centered prick a fucking lesson!”

Charlie put her hands on her friend’s shoulders. Thankfully, Vaggie was petite and Charlie had the upper hand in height. “Don’t even bother,” Charlie told her. “Come on, I’ve got a shift in two hours and I don’t have enough time to take the bus home.”

“You’re still going to work? After what happened with Valentino?!”

“Who told you about that?”

“Cherri! Because you obviously didn’t plan on telling me!”

Charlie groaned. Her emotional capacity was at its limit. She needed to go cry in a dark corner and free up some space, especially before she saw him tomorrow. “It’s not like he’ll show up again, Angel already went with him. He has no reason to go back.”

Vaggie put her hands on her hips and looked at Charlie with an unconvinced expression. “Charlie… this is Valentino. Don’t you know anything about him? He’s the number one pimp around this city, he’s got ties with everyone just about. He’s a disgusting man. I doubt he’ll just ‘let it go’ that you tried to stop him from taking Angel.”

Charlie knew she was right. “But Vaggie, I need money.”

“You need a new job.”

“Ugh! Great, another job, another round of bosses and coworkers to get to know, no Vaggie, I can’t do it. I’ve gotta go to work. Do you have an extra pair of clothes I can borrow?”

As a matter of fact, Vaggie did. Charlie knew she always kept extra clothes in her car. She sighed and led the way to her car. It wasn’t much, a 2008 Altima that was halfway in the grave, couldn’t go any faster than 60mph, broken windows and broken AC, but it was a better car than Charlie’s because Charlie didn’t have a car.

“Are we going to talk about Alastor?” Vaggie asked as she popped her trunk. There was a tied off trash bag of clothes that Vaggie intended to donate for the past three years that ended up being Charlie’s backup plan.

The blonde helped herself and rummaged through the bag of clothes. “He’ll be there tomorrow, I told him nine.”

“Fuck, Charlie.”

She sighed and wished that she could hide in the bag of clothes forever. Vaggie had been using cucumber melon lotion for the past decade, so it’s not like it would smell bad. Charlie took a deep breath and straightened back up, holding an old blouse and a skirt. “Vaggie… please… I don’t have the emotional capacity for this. I gotta go to work, then I gotta meet everyone tomorrow. I don’t want to fight.”

Her friend seemed to lighten up. Perhaps it was pity, or perhaps it was the genuine distress in Charlie’s eyes. Vaggie sighed. “Alright… you’re lucky I brought some work with me, I’ll have something to do while you’re at work.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Well, yeah! Someone has to make sure it’s safe after the Valentino fiasco! But I’m warning you, if there’s anything suspicious, you’re getting a new job. Deal?”

Charlie smiled even though it was the furthest thing she wanted to do. Unbeknownst to her, she mirrored Alastor in that moment when he was with Rosie upstairs.

“Deal.”

~*~*~*~

The address that Charlie gave for the program building was close to the real hospital, just as she said on the broadcast. It was a building that the hospital built as an add on in the early eighties, and as Charlie also said, it was once a fully functioning rehabilitation center.

Alastor sat in his car, jazz music turned down low, his hands still on the steering wheel even though the car was in park. He could see the building for the glory it once was. It was a long vertical building, two stories by the looks of it, with ivy growing on the walls and weeds growing between the walls and cement. The cement walkway was cracked, some of the exterior windows were broken (some windows had bars behind them) and it looked like all the lights were off. He wondered if the place had electricity. The center had three entrances, the front entrance with two double doors, the back entrance that was accessible for large delivery trucks to drop off goods, and the third entrance that connected to the hospital. Alastor was glad for the hospital–just around the corner of the abandoned parking lot was the hospital parking lot and front entrance, which of course was always full with cars and people.

The abandoned rehab center was like a lonely island, but at least the hospital mainland wasn’t far away.

Alastor looked at his wristwatch. 8:56 and so far no other cars than his. He rubbed his eyes and kept his hands pressed into his face. All he could see was Charlie’s expression when she left his office the other day; flushed face, quivering bottom lip, and worst of all, furious eyes.

“You didn’t have to be such a jerk on the air.”

“Show up tomorrow and get your pictures for your blog and then we’ll part ways. You won’t ever see me again.”

The worst part about it was that Alastor couldn’t tell what caused his stomach to churn more; the idea of having to follow through with helping her do this rehabilitation program, or the idea that he’ll never see her again.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He’d sworn off company a long time ago. He made an exception with Rosie, but Charlie was different. Charlie caused him to feel things he hadn’t felt in awhile. Even now, as he sat in his car and waited for the inevitable, despite the dread of what the day would bring, he also felt a little elation.

He’d get to see her.

At 8:59 an old Altima drove into the parking lot and parked a few spots away from him. Alastor watched as a sour-faced young woman got out of the driver’s seat. She looked almost as miserable as he felt. The passenger door opened and out stepped Charlie. She wore her hair in a loose side-braid and wore a casual graphic tee of unicorns, ripped jeans, and sneakers.

She was also holding a box of donuts with a four-pack of coffees balanced on top.

Alastor held his breath and got out of the car. He strode as casually as he could to greet the two women. “Good morning.”

The sour-faced one gave him a deadpan glance. “You’re overdressed,” she commented. “Unless you plan on posing for pictures and then high-tailing it outta here?”

“Vaggie!” Charlie exclaimed. She looked at Alastor. The fury from the day before was gone, he would say that she looked (happy?) to see him. He tried to swallow the notion and ignore the nerves from it. “A-Alastor, this is Vaggie. She’s my right-hand on this project, as well as our licensed therapist who will help counsel and speak to our patients.”

Alastor just nodded at her. He had a feeling that if he tried to extend a hand for a shake that the Vaggie woman would just look at him like he was stupid. He felt a bit silly, now that she had to go mention his clothing. He wore a pair of slacks (not new ones, heavens no, these were at least four years old) as well as an old dress shirt that was tucked in and the sleeves rolled up. He made the mistake of wearing his nice shoes.

“It’s charitable of you to bring coffee and treats, considering that you hate me,” Alastor noted.

Charlie looked away from him. “W-well I didn’t want to be rude.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know you’re not obligated to do anything, right?”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Vaggie said. “It’s not all about you, Alastor. We’ve got an entire crew coming here.”

“Oh really? Who else?”

“Niffty and Angel,” Charlie answered. “Come one, let’s go unlock the doors and we’ll show you the place. Where’s Rosie?”

“Good question,” Alastor muttered. He couldn’t help but sound bitter. “She’s not a very good morning person. I imagine she’ll be here soon.” She had better be, because if she volunteered him to do this project then she better be there to take pictures and get the ball rolling on it. She was his producer, after all!

Alastor followed the women to the door. Vaggie unlocked it and opened the heavy double door, switching on the light.

The outside was somehow nicer than the inside. Alastor resisted the urge to run away and willfully forced himself to keep the grin on his face.

The room was lit poorly with halogen ceiling lights. The floors were old checkerboard tiles, mint green and egg-shell white in color. There was a front desk with a matching mint green countertop, a few old chairs leaned up against the walls, a glass coffee table that had old magazines on top, and a potted plant in the corner of the room that was halfway dead.

Alastor envied the plant.

“This is the lobby,” Charlie said. She set the donuts and coffee down on the counter. “We’ll have someone sitting in this seat to check in patients. There are eight rooms down the hallway and six rooms upstairs. We’re in the process of painting the rooms and getting new floors installed since the old flooring was, you know, torn up a bit.”

“I also saw some broken windows,” Alastor commented.

“Yeah, we gotta replace those, too.”

“And the weeds growing up the walls.”

“Oh yes, that has to go.”

“As well as the–”

“Okay!” Vaggie exclaimed. “We get it, there’s a lot of shit to be done. Thanks for pointing out the obvious!”

He narrowed his eyes at her but his grin remained. “You seem to be taking what I’m saying personally.”

Vaggie dared to step closer to Alastor until she was directly in front of him. She stared at him fiercely with one eye, the other one covered by her long bangs. “Look,” she growled, “this might be a publicity stunt to you, but this is Charlie’s life work. You don’t need to come in here and nitpick every little thing that’s wrong, we’re not fucking blind. Understand?”

Charlie stepped between them and handed Vaggie a sprinkled donut. “It’s okay, it’s fine,” she said, obviously trying to diffuse tension.

“No! It’s not! He’s not here to help us, Charlie! He’s here to get his fifteen minutes of fame and get the hell out!”

Wordlessly, Alastor stepped over to the coffee cups on the table and saw that one of them was marked black. “Has anyone claimed this?” he asked.

“No, ah, that one is yours. I saw you take it black the other day,” Charlie mumbled.

“Thank you.”

Alastor took a sip of his coffee. It was welcome. Vaggie’s initial burst of anger seemed to simmer down and she stood near the door to eat her donut. “I’m gonna wait out front for Angel and Niffty,” she muttered. Without another word, Vaggie went back outside.

Charlie looked nervous. She skittered to the counter and grabbed her coffee with shaky hands. “I’m uh, I’m sorry about that,” she said while looking down. “Vaggie means well, she just, well, she’s very protective of me. And she, you know, well… she doesn’t like men. And I won’t lie, she’s not really a fan of yours.”

“Really,” Alastor said. “I couldn’t tell.”

The sarcasm was welcome. Charlie looked up at him with her big, doe eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, Charlie had the courage to speak.

“I don’t hate you, you know.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Well, that’s good,” he said coolly. “Because it’s not fun to work with people you hate, just ask Vox when the radio station had its charity run and we were teamed together.” He took another thoughtful sip of his coffee. Charlie mimicked him and sipped her coffee as well. He saw that hers was marked ‘six sugars/double cream’ and he couldn’t help but smirk at how opposite she was from him in the coffee department. The two settled next to each other comfortably. To an observing third party, one might wonder why they were so close to each other, especially given how much Alastor didn’t like to be touched. It would seem he didn’t mind at all, in fact, his body language seemed to yearn for the blonde’s touch.

Not that he was aware of it, however. He just knew that this was a nice moment between them, and it wasn’t going to last. He needed to say what he had to say while he had the chance. Alastor steeled himself in his spot and prepared to speak his mind. “Charlie, I–”

“Oh!”

Charlie dropped her donut and while trying to catch it, spilled her coffee. Her mouth was a mess of sprinkles and sugar, the discarded donut on the floor between them, and the coffee was spilled all over her jeans. Luckily, only half the coffee spilled.

“Fuck, I always forget to ask for napkins,” Charlie swore. Alastor hummed as he took out his handkerchief from his back pocket. He wordlessly wiped the corner of Charlie’s chin. She looked at him in surprise. “Why are you always so prepared for every disaster that happens to me?”

“I hardly consider this a disaster,” Alastor grinned. He wiped her chin and moved the handkerchief to wipe her mouth. He did so without thinking; it was instinct for him to see a spill and want to clean it up. But when he felt the outline of her mouth beneath his fingertips, a spark of electricity shot from his fingertips to the pit of his stomach. He thought of what her lips would feel like in other places other than his fingers. The intrusive thought snapped him back to reality. He stopped abruptly and hesitantly drew his arm back. “Here, darling. Keep it.”

Charlie took the handkerchief. She didn’t seem to notice his tight voice. “That’s not how the fairytales go, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Usually the knight in shining armor slays the dragon and then it’s the princess who gives him her handkerchief, as a token of her gratitude.” Charlie smiled. It was the first smile she’d given him since the true disaster of yesterday’s broadcast and Alastor found himself returning it with a genuine smile of his own. “Instead,” Charlie continued, “You had to give me yours and I got sugar all over it.”

“I’m not sure you give yourself enough credit, princess,” Alastor grinned. “And, I think you give me too much credit. I’m the furthest thing from a knight.”

“Yes, the slacks don’t exactly scream ‘shining armor’, do they?” They both chuckled. It was small talk, it was stupid humor, but it was exactly what they needed. It was enough to make them release their pent up tension for the day. “Oh, I hear a car. The others are here,” Charlie said. She almost sounded disappointed, but Alastor thought that was just wishful thinking. He chided himself for thinking such silly notions. “Are you ready to meet them?”

He stared at her hand that rested at her side, right next to his. All it would take is him lifting up his wrist and he’d have her hand in his. Her soft skin would be his to relish.

Charlie saw that he was lost in his thoughts. She wondered what he thought about, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he thought about her. She reached out and put her fingertips on his chest to give him a small nudge. “Earth to Alastor,” she said teasingly.

They both pretended not to notice the gleam in his eyes when she touched his chest. Her fingers lingered there for a long moment and hesitantly came off. “As ready as ever,” Alastor said.

Which was another way of saying no.

~*~*~*~

When Alastor met the other two, he had a sinking feeling that this was a disaster waiting to happen. As hostile as Vaggie was, at least she was capable. The other two, not so much.

Niffty was smaller than Vaggie, almost built like a child even though Charlie mentioned that they met in college. She had a wild look about her and her movements were very sporadic and twitchy. She seemed like a lot of energy, too much for Alastor who was in his thirties.

Then, there was Angel. Tall, well-dressed, perfectly kept hair, and a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses. “Hey there, handsome,” he said when he saw Alastor. “Glad we could see each other again, usually my first encounters aren’t so messy.” Angel purred the ‘messy’ part of his word.

“Behave,” Vaggie chided.

“Did you meet my plant?” Niffty asked.

“We didn’t introduce him to your plant,” Vaggie said through clenched teeth. “Also, it’s pretty much dead, Niff.”

The small woman quickly ran to her car. “I’ve got a watering pot!”

Alastor hadn’t spoken yet. His mind was racing as he was trying to figure out what Angel meant. Under the halogen lights of the front entrance, he took a good look at Angel. The young man noticed his squinting eyes. “Like what you see?” he winked.

“You…” Alastor said.

“Little ol me?” Angel grinned.

“You’re the one who went with Valentino that night!”

Angel’s grin faltered. “Well, yeah, duh. But I’m here now, after filming two grueling scenes back to back and then back to back, get it?”

Charlie intervened. “Alastor, this is my friend Angel, the one I told you about on Thursday. He’s the adult entertainer. And he’s our first client!”

“The first and best, baby,” Angel grinned.

Alastor stiffened. “Then why was he at the bar that night?”

Charlie seemed confused. “He’s my friend, he was there to get a few drinks.”

“Didn’t you say that he’s here for alcoholic tendencies?”

“Charlie!” Angel exclaimed. “You told him I had an alcohol problem?”

She flushed. “Well, I said you had a drug problem, first.” Angel shut his mouth. He couldn’t argue with that one.

“So if he’s your client and the one you’re trying to rehabilitate, tell me why he was at your place of work, which is a bar, to have drinks?” Alastor asked.

Charlie and Angel exchanged looks that bordered on guilty. “Because…” Charlie said, “we’re friends?”

“And roommates,” Angel said. “To be fair, I would have been her ride home. Or, well she would have driven cause I was tipsy, those fruity drinks were so good, Charlie!”

“Aw, thank you!”

Alastor was very close to breaking his mask. His grin was tight, painful almost, and he tucked his hands behind his back so no one could see him ball his hands into fists. “Charlie,” he said through gritted teeth. “May I have a moment to converse with you?”

Charlie blinked at him. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Oh no, you two won’t have a sidebar without me,” Vaggie grumbled.

Alastor didn’t resist his eye roll. “Very well. If you ladies would kindly lead the way.”

Vaggie took the lead and stepped past everyone to open the room that led to the hallway. “Come on,” she said. Charlie scurried past Alastor and the three of them were shut away from the rest of the group. Angel got on his phone and Niffty continued to water her poor plant. “What is it?” Vaggie asked Alastor once the three were alone.

Alastor let his grin drop. “Look, I don’t plan on blindly following you two as this program goes on. I’d like to know what exactly is the game plan for getting this rehabilitation center up and running, but first, I need to say what’s on my mind.”

Vaggie had her hands on her hips, but remained silent to listen to him. Charlie looked at him with her whole attention. “Go on,” Vaggie said.

The Radio Demon sighed. “Charlie, if my listeners had known that the first patient of yours was also your best friend and roommate, they would have ripped you apart limb from limb. There have to be boundaries. You cannot expect anyone to take you seriously if people think that this is some organization you put together to help your friends who are down on their luck with substance problems.”

“I-it’s not like that!” Charlie exclaimed. “I mean, it is like that, yes, but Angel is trying. I get it, the bar was a bad idea, but it doesn’t happen often!”

Vaggie turned to Charlie. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. It shouldn’t happen at all.”

“What, I shouldn’t hangout with Angel?”

“Maybe not at a bar.”

“Okay, yes, I agree! That’s my fault.”

“It’s not just that,” Alastor continued, “this is your business, Charlie. You have to treat it like your business. You can’t blur the lines with friend and client, it’s going to be a train wreck down the line. Angel can either be your client or your friend.”

Charlie’s eyes welled up with tears. Her bottom lip quivered and she hid her face in her forearm. “I-I-!” she broke off her sentence and walked farther down the hallway.

Vaggie looked torn between going after her and giving her the space to get her burst out. She looked at Alastor fiercely with her one eye that wasn’t covered by her hair. “You have a point, I’ll give you that,” she said, her voice tense.

He met her stare. “I’m told I make many points, my weakness is the way I make them.”

“That’s your only weakness, huh?”

He fought the urge to sneer at her. “You don’t have to like me. I’m not here to be liked.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To help.”

“Oh, please. I’d like you more if you were upfront, Alastor.”

“I’m very upfront, Vaggie.”

“Why do you want to help? What do you get out of it? Other than ratings and a new segment for your show and blog.” Vaggie crossed her arms and leaned up towards him. “I’ve seen your show. I know what you’re about. The Radio Demon isn’t exactly known for charity, is he?”

Alastor’s grin returned. “No, he’s not. But the Radio Demon is known for doing whatever the fuck he wants whenever the fuck he wants.”

“Guys!” Charlie cried from across the hall. “Can you both get along for like thirty seconds while I have my moment?!”

Before either of them could answer, the hallway doors swung open. “You’re never going to believe this!”

The one on the other side of the door wasn’t Angel or Niffty. It was Rosie.

“Oh, finally made it out of bed I see,” Alastor said.

Rosie looked at him with widened eyes. “Alastor… you’re trending!”

~*~*~*~

The flip phone that Velvette saw Alastor use all those years ago was still in his trouser pocket. He had thirty-three contacts, seven missed calls, and his background was the default picture from when the phone was purchased. His phone even had an antenna, which he liked to flip up whenever he was taking a call.

One look at his dinosaur phone, and Rosie nearly threw it against the wall. “I told you to upgrade last month!” she exclaimed.

“And I told you that if it’s not broken it doesn’t need to be fixed,” Alastor bit back. “Now, please, tell me which little picture is my internet browser.”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “Here, watch on my phone. Charlie, you watch too. Young lady, hi, I’m Rosie.”

As sour as Vaggie was, she couldn’t help but smile at the older woman. “Hello, thanks.”

Charlie scooted closer to the group. She stood between Alastor and Vaggie while Rosie full-screened her phone. “This was posted last night on Vox News. It went viral.”

Shit, both Alastor and Charlie thought at the same time.

On the screen, Vox was sat down at his desk with a cup of coffee and a pile of papers held in his hands. “I’m tired!” he screamed. “And listeners, I know you’re tired, too! Tired of the lies, tired of the games, tired of the freaking runaround!”

“So many words, yet no point made,” Alastor said.

“Shush,” Rosie hushed.

Vox continued. “I’m talking about Alastor the Radio Demon and the passion project he announced earlier on his program. For those of you who missed it, Alastor brought on a little girl with big dreams and fake blonde hair–”

“FAKE?!” Charlie squeaked.

“Little miss sunshine if you will,” Vox continued, “who claims to want to help this city by starting up her own rehabilitation center. She claims that anyone off the streets of this city can waltz right in to get help, which sounds hunky-dory, sure, if you live IN FAIRYLAND. Let’s call it the way it is, this Charlie woman is just trying to get money for her and her friends to counsel each other and slap ‘therapy’ on it and have themselves a nice cry and go home. She’s not serious about her program, and she’s actively trying to trick you! That’s right listeners, Charlie is actually Charlie Morningstar! Daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, his only flesh and blood! And she has the audacity to say that she needs your hard earned money to fund her camp counseling session, when she has access to one of the richest men in all of the city?! No. No, no, no. I’m not standing for this, New Orleans!”

Charlie put one hand on Alastor’s shoulder and one hand on Vaggie’s shoulder. Then she squeezed. Tightly.

“Ah, Charlie!” Vaggie cried.

Alastor grit his teeth. He felt Charlie’s frustration.

Vox on the screen took a sip of his coffee. “And don’t get me started on Alastor!” he yelled. “This self-serving prick is in on the scam, ladies and gentlemen! Don’t listen to a word he tells you! He makes you think that he’s a voice of reason in this city but he’s NOT I tell you, NOT interested in your feelings, he doesn’t CARE.” As Vox screamed his words, he slammed his papers down on the desk each time to emphasize his point. He coughed into his hand. “Sorry. This is all just a scam between Lucifer’s little girl and the Radio Demon to get your money, get a building nice and fixed up, and to use the place as a fun little getaway. Do not give them your money. Do not give them your time. Do not even give them looks on the street. They’re shameless! Senseless! No scruples, damn it, NO SCRUPLES, sorry.”

Vaggie couldn’t take it, she had to shrug off Charlie’s hand. With no vice, Charlie kept her hand on Alastor’s shoulder and then gripped his bicep with the other hand. She had to have something to anchor her before her anger got out of control.

Vox cleared his throat once more. “And onto other news, I hope everyone has a water filter. If not, luckily for you, I’ve teamed up with the best brands that you can get off my website for 20% off with the code VOXWARS. If you haven’t heard the news, there are chemicals in the water that are turning the freaking frogs g–”

Rosie shut off the video.

“Wait, what was he going to say? I don’t have a water filter!” Niffty cried.

Rosie ignored her. She brought up the saved articles on her phone. “Vox went viral and that made us go viral, too. The entire city is talking about your program, Charlie, and whether or not Alastor is genuinely in this to help you or not. The city is pretty split between thinking this is a joke and thinking it's a genuine gesture. Alastor, you know we have to address this on Monday.”

Charlie looked panicked. “B-but why?! Why is Vox doing this?”

“Because he hates me,” Alastor said. “And he doesn’t care who goes down with me.”

“What do we do?” Charlie asked.

Alastor thought he heard something. He looked out the window of the hallway and into the parking lot. “Charlie, you told me in your interview yesterday that you had security.”

“Um… yes… I did tell you that.” Her guilty voice was back.

“Where is your security?”

“You’re looking at her,” Vaggie said.

Alastor thought about jumping out the window. “You’re serious.”

Vaggie shrugged. “I can hold my own.”

“And she’s free,” Charlie said in a small voice.

“Charlie, Vox just put a target on your back. My back, too. There are people out there who listen to him. Those people have one brain cell, but they listen to him regardless. This place is going to get dangerous.” Alastor looked at Rosie and handed her his phone. “Go into my contacts. Find me the H section.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know how to find your contacts?”

“It’ll take too long.”

His producer took his phone. “Jesus, Alastor.” She did as he said in two seconds flat. “It’s ready, you just need to press the dial button. It’s the green icon.”

“Yes, yes, I know that much.” Alastor snatched his phone.

“What exactly are you doing?” Vaggie asked. Her suspicious tone was back.

“None of your business,” Alastor snapped.

“It is my business! Everything that has to do with this place is my business!” Vaggie yelled. “God, why can’t you just take your pictures and get out of here? We both know you don’t want to be here, Alastor!”

The Radio Demon finally had enough. He faced the room and regarded everyone with a grin so unhinged it was a sneer. No one was safe from him; Niffty, Angel, Vaggie, Rosie, and even Charlie. “I am fucking tired of being questioned,” Alastor said. As angry as he was, the tone of his voice betrayed his full teeth on display. He held back with what little self-control he had in that moment. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to help Charlie with this project. I’m going to pull from all my resources, give it all the time I can give, and do everything in my power that it succeeds. But in return, I’d like the respect not to be doubted, and I’d like to be involved in all areas of the planning, because I won’t do this if I’m not part of the decision making. I can make this rehabilitation project succeed. But in return, for fucks sake, stop questioning me.”

There was a long pause. Eyes were wide, mouths agape, and no one dared to say anything.

Charlie was the first to bounce back. She did so with an unsteady smile but a gleam in her eyes that shined with joy. One word left her mouth that sealed her fate with Alastor’s for the uncertain future:

“Deal.”

Notes:

And there we have it! Just a quick afterthought, I actually really enjoy Vaggie as a character, this isn't intended to be anti-Vaggie lol. I think she's rightly suspicious of Alastor and hostile towards him because of his radio show where, let's face it, he's very condescending and negative.

I know we still didn't get any smut, this fiction has taken on a life of its own and I am almost 20k words into it, I'd hate to ruin what I have so far by rushing it. But I wrote this fiction because Charlastor has a fucking chokehold on me, so believe you-me, IT'S GONNA HAPPEN DAMN IT.

I also did my best to lean FULLY into Vox as Alex Jones, y'alls comments had me rolling, and writing his unhinged news bit was more fun than I thought it would be.

I'll have more up soon! As always, thank you so, so much!

Chapter 4

Summary:

The events that follow Alastor's pledge of service as Charlie's business partner.

An hour had passed in the rehab center. The donuts and coffee were all gone, the little AC unit struggled to keep the rooms 72 degrees, and the tensions in the room went from a boil to a simmer. Rosie certainly helped, although it was obvious that the producer was a bad morning person. “I either need more coffee or I need to take caffeine pills,” she muttered to Alastor.

“Caffeine pills?” Niffty asked.

“DON’T YOU DARE!” the entire room shouted. Niffty stared at the floor in defeat.

The next hour started awkwardly but ended up going in a productive direction. Alastor seemed to put everyone in their respective places with his proclamation. Charlie decided to get the ball rolling and show Alastor her master plan, which was in her office upstairs. Thankfully, Vaggie seemed to back off because of Rosie’s presence, she trusted the producer more than the radio host. While Vaggie led the team to start working on renovating the front office (new coat of paint, get rid of the chairs, sweep, mop, dust ALL the walls), Charlie led Alastor into her back office.

The two walked side by side down the hallway until they reached the flight of stairs. As he suspected, the building was two stories high. “How many sinners can this building comfortably hold?” he asked.

“I think between twenty-five to thirty,” Charlie replied. “Maybe more if we include bunk beds.” They climbed onto the second floor and Charlie led them all the way down the hallway to the last room at the end. “This is my office. It was the most salvageable room when we first started but I’ve come to like it,” she said. She opened the door.

Alastor didn’t know what to expect. The unicorn stickers on Charlie’s business folder should have given him an idea but he didn’t recall it. The room was the size of any standard bedroom; white walls, one window with plenty of sunlight streaming through, and a door leading to the bathroom. There was a blue couch that looked like it came from Goodwill, a crate upside down to serve as a coffee table, and an actual desk and desk chair. The walls were stickied with a lot of scribbled post it notes, a few blueprint drawings (done in crayon), and beside Charlie’s desk was a picture of a kitten hanging from a tree branch with the caption “Hang in there, baby!” on it.

“I see,” Alastor commented.

“You don’t like it?” she asked.

He thought about how she complimented everything about his home, even when he told her that she didn’t have to. “It doesn’t matter if I like it, this is your office,” Alastor said.

Charlie seemed bothered. “So you don’t like it?”

“Oh, Charlotte. You care too much about what other people think. It’s charming. Not the room I’d conduct business in, but it’s very you.”

She seemed to brighten up at that. “Well, this has been the room where I’ve had the majority of my crying sessions.” She smiled as she said this, like she tried to tell her own joke. He didn’t think it was a joke. “Anyway…” Charlie continued, “I work at the bar on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights and I work at a cafe down the street during the days on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I’m here during the days before my night shifts at the bar and I’m here in the afternoons after my morning shifts at the cafe.”

“You sound like a busy bee,” Alastor said. “Didn’t you mention college classes when we first met?”

“You have a good memory.”

“You are my sole focus when we speak, I remember most details.”

Charlie blushed a little pink at that. She turned away from him, as if his intense gaze on her was too much to handle. Charlie walked over to her desk and opened the drawers. She took out an old laptop. “I take online classes but I’m barely a part-time student. I’m only in one class this semester and I had to drop it because between work and this place, it became too much. I’ll get my degree, slowly but surely.”

She sounded like she clung onto hope by a thread. Alastor studied the young woman before him; she was in her mid-twenties, still very young, and this should be her fun years. She shouldn’t be stressed out and stretched so thin. He wondered how long she’d been like that. Of all the people in this city, Charlie didn’t have to live like this. Her father had money. Hell, her mother had money. She didn’t have to work two jobs and sacrifice her curricular future, she didn’t have to ride the bus, she didn’t have to share an apartment with Angel.

She chose to do this, Alastor thought to himself. Charlie gave up the life of a socialite, and for what? For this rundown building. For a dream that he didn’t think would work. For other people, crackheads that he wouldn’t give a second glance. All of this hard work and heartache, and it didn’t even directly benefit the young woman.

Alastor prided himself to be a deep thinker, a muser of his surroundings. In that moment with the soft morning light illuminating on Charlie’s face, her downcast eyes as she opened her laptop, the slouch in her shoulders–Alastor understood that there was a parallel between them that he wouldn’t have seen before. They were both lonely; although they had people they saw during the day (his coworkers at the radio station, her coworkers at her two jobs) and they had those that they were close to (his Rosie, her Vaggie) they were still lonely in their ambitions, lonely in their thoughts, and lonely in the precious times of days when they were alone.

But where Alastor told himself that loneliness was welcome, Charlie seemed to be open about the emptiness inside of her.

She’s not afraid to hide behind her frown, she doesn’t need a smile like you do.

“Alastor?”

Her soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. He blinked a few times and looked at her. She wasn’t afraid to meet his gaze this time. “Yes, dear.”

“You zoned out on me, huh?”

“I suppose so.” Alastor ran a hand through his bangs and walked closer to her at the desk. “May I?”

“Yes! Please, I wanted to show you.”

They stood side by side. It wasn’t spacious in her office and his side was brushed against hers. Charlie’s laptop was open and she had a few documents and an excel sheet running. Alastor, as hopeless as he was with technology, at least understood the principle of an excel even if he’d never used one himself. That was Rosie’s job, thank you.

“So the biggest issue is money,” Charlie said. “I’ve got everything we need categorized. So far, the money has been going into fixing up the place. We’ve almost got it to code, I’d say another three weeks of work. As far as credentials and our on hand staff, Vaggie is my invaluable team member. She’s a licensed therapist, she’s able to prescribe medicine, and her other job is actually at the hospital that’s connected to us. It’s easy for her to make it to work on time! Once we get the building up to code, Vaggie can pull her resources and bring in extra therapists and counselors, maybe even an on-staff nurse.”

Alastor nodded in approval, even if Charlie faced the laptop screen and couldn’t see him. “That’s quite encouraging,” he said. “Where are you getting your current funds?”

“From the bar and the cafe,” Charlie answered.

“You’re funding this yourself?”

“Well, duh, silly! I told you that!”

Alastor did feel a bit silly. “I didn’t think you were fully funding it, Charlie. You’re telling me that all the work that has been fed into this project has been from your pocket?”

She looked up at him. “Yes, it has. Vaggie works full-time at the hospital and helps when she can, but she has her own life expenses. Angel is a work in progress, and it’s his name on our lease, in fact he does me a favor by charging me the bare minimum in rent. Niffty is volunteering and gives time when she can, but she’s a broke college student. It’s been me. All me.”

“That’s ending today,” Alastor said. It was not a question, it was a command. “We get this place up to code, Vaggie pulls her resources, then what?”

“Well, getting the place up to code is part one, part two is furnishing it and making sure it’s a place people want to go. You know.”

“Great. You mean like an actual coffee table instead of your upside down milk crate.” Alastor looked closely at Charlie’s documents that were pulled up. He adjusted his glasses to make sure he was seeing everything right. “Okay,” he said. “Phase one, getting the building up to code. You wrote that we need new floors, patch the walls, fix the plumbing, fix the AC, paint the walls once they’ve been fixed, new fridge, new lights, replace Niffty’s potted plant, new windows, and…”

He broke off when Charlie began typing on her laptop keyboard. “There!” she giggled.

“Get rid of the milk crate,” Alastor read. He smirked. “I can knock that off your list today, darling.”

“But then I won’t have a coffee table!”

He rolled his eyes. Before he could say much more, the door to Charlie’s office opened. Niffty stood on the other side and she shifted her weight from foot to foot impatiently. “Hey, there’s a man to see you, Alastor! He’s kinda grumpy. And stinky. And when I asked him if he wanted to meet my plant he said ‘fuck off’.”

Charlie looked at Alastor. He grinned and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Charlotte! Your new security guard has arrived!”

~*~*~*~

“Why am I not surprised to see you smiling, you prick.”

“Ah, Husker, as chipper as ever.”

The grumpy man that Niffty referred to was an older man in his late forties, perhaps mid-forties but the years hadn’t been kind to him. He was a bit stockier built, some gray in his otherwise black hair, and he had a very displeased expression. Charlie found that the ‘stink’ as Niffty put it was the strong smell of alcohol at the ripe hour of 11:00 in the morning. She wrinkled her nose at him.

Alastor approached the man with no issue at all. “It’s time for me to cash in my favor, old pal,” Alastor said. He clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Husker! An old acquaintance of mine! He owes me a favor, and to repay me, he’ll be our new security guard!”

“What now?” Husk exclaimed. “Oh hell no, not happening!”

“If you calculate the money you owe me divided by the hours I see you working over the week,” Alastor said, his voice even. “Then you owe me a minimum wage job for the next three weeks.”

“You’ve gotta be shitting me!”

“Nope, I don’t think so.”

Charlie decided to step in. “Hi,” she said, extending a hand to shake. The older man just looked at her hand and made no move to shake it. She let it drop awkwardly. “Um, hi, I’m Charlie and I’m so happy to have you here! This is my project, my goal is to reha–”

“I don’t care,” Husk interrupted. “Just tell me what I need to do and how long I need to do it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Alastor said. He stepped next to Charlie and pulled her next to him. She blinked up at Husk, still shocked that he didn’t let her do her usual introduction spiel. “Here’s the situation: Vox put a hit out on Charlie and myself and now his listeners know that we’re spending time in this building. I don’t trust his listeners. Besides from you and myself, there are no men here–”

“HEY!” Angel cried.

Alastor didn’t skip a beat, “My apologies Angel, but the point stands, we need extra protection until the waters have calmed down. What did you say we were, Rosie? On the webs, your little lingo, what was it?”

Rosie put her head in her hands. “Trending,” she said between her fingers. “Because of Vox, we’re trending.”

“Trending,” Alastor repeated. “So every Saturday we’ll work here all day, which means you’ll be here all day, and you’ll need to be here in the evenings while Charlie is here on, what did you say darling, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesdays?”

Charlie blinked. She was barely keeping up. “Uh, yeah…” she stammered.

Alastor grinned. “Perfect. Four hours in the evening three days a week, eight hours on Saturday, three weeks of service. I think by the end of this, you should be nearly halfway through paying me back, wouldn’t you say so? But if you do a good job, I’ll think about dropping the debt entirely after the three weeks.”

Husk fumed in his spot. He couldn’t deny that this gig was easy, even if some psycho off the street did try to pull something. He was very confident in his ability to be a bouncer, even if he did so against his will. Husk looked at Charlie, then behind them at the other ladies. The one Alastor called Angel gave him a sultry smile and a little wave.

“Fuck,” Husk muttered. “Fine. I’m guessing I'm sitting at the desk?”

“All yours,” Charlie said.

“Alright, well let me get the case out of the car.”

“Briefcase?” Charlie asked.

“Case of beer,” Husk corrected. “I’m not doing this job sober, Alastor. I won’t get so shit-faced that I can’t do my job, but I’m not sitting here especially on a Saturday without my fix.”

Alastor lifted both hands in mock surrender. “Whatever crosses your T’s and dots your I’s, pal.” With that, Husk grumbled to himself and left to go back to his car.

“Oh great, a rehabilitation center and we’ve got a functioning alcoholic to run our front desk!” Vaggie nearly screamed from across the room.

“Let him do it!” Angel argued. “I like them gruff!”

Vaggie proceeded to get into an argument with Angel, Niffty and Rosie tried to get back to their initial job of getting the spiderwebs off the wall, and Charlie looked at Alastor like he made a miracle happen. “What did you do for him?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

Alastor grinned. “Bailed him out of a bad situation. I’m afraid he’s got a gambling issue as prominent as his alcoholic tendencies. Perhaps once this place is up and running he’ll be a patient, if his stubbornness didn’t get in the way so often. He’ll be here when you’re here so you’re not here alone. And don’t worry, he’s not dangerous. Ex-military. He follows a conduct. I wouldn’t put you in a bad situation, you have my word on that.”

Without responding, Charlie leapt up and gave Alastor a hug. She squeezed him tight, pinning his arms to the side, so he was unable to hug her back. Alastor nearly froze in his spot when she did so; the last time a woman willingly hugged him was the last hug he received from his late mother, and by then she was too weak and he had to hug her frail body. This was different, of course. This was a woman who was excited to touch him, absolutely elated to get into his space. Her perfume was sinful to his senses.

Charlie landed back on her feet. She wore a bright, beaming smile. “Thank you.”

Alastor barely heard her over the loud pounding of his heart. “Sure,” was all he could say. He needed a distraction, fast.

~*~*~*~

Alastor was exhausted by the time he returned home that evening. He couldn’t remember the last time he spent his entire day doing physical labor. Which was pathetic to think, because they barely scratched the surface of what had to be done. Charlie’s crew of misfits weren’t exactly the most efficient between the internet breaks, lunch breaks, snack breaks, water breaks, and bathroom breaks. But even he had to admit they were a close knit of friends. Weird as hell, but they were friends.

“You know, I’ve listened to the Radio Demon and Vox News off and on for years,” Niffty had told him earlier during lunch.

“That’s nice,” Alastor said. He wasn’t much interested in conversation while he ate his reuben.

Niffty didn’t seem to take the hint. She continued with glee, “I had to take English Comp in college and I wrote a fanfiction of you two if you wanna read it! Don’t worry, you’re the alpha.”

“Charlie!” Alastor exclaimed.

“Niffty, come on and eat my fries, I can’t finish them!” Charlie cried from her lunch spot.

“Oh, if you insist!” Niffty grinned. She bounced away from Alastor.

Angel, on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing. “Do you even know what she’s talking about?” he asked Alastor with a wicked grin.

Truthfully, the Radio Demon had no idea what the fuck she just said to him. “I’d rather not know, thank you. Ignorance is bliss.”

After that interesting lunch, they finished cleaning the walls and getting all the spiderwebs down, moved out all the old furniture, and had everything ready for demolition. Husk sat in his seat and dutifully drank his beer and watched the door. He had a book with him and a small rotating fan. By 4:30, Charlie had to call it. “Okay guys, great job today! I’ve gotta get ready for work tonight.”

Everyone bid their goodbyes. Niffty rode with Angel, Husk lumbered to his car, and Vaggie said a few things to Charlie before leaving. Rosie had left an hour earlier, saying she needed to get some errands done. She did her job and got her pictures of Alastor holding a broom for the first blog post.

When Vaggie drove off the parking lot, only Alastor’s car remained. He lingered on the front porch, waiting for Charlie to come out. She had told everyone goodbye and said she’d lock up and disappeared into her office. When she walked outside, she was surprised to see Alastor stuck around.

“You can go home,” she said.

“If I knew you were going to be here alone I wouldn’t have sent Husk home,” Alastor said, his voice displeased.

She smiled at him despite his expression. “Oh come on, Al, I can take care of myself. I just had to change into work clothes and freshen up a bit.”

“And I suppose that the bar you’re working at is the same bar you had your rumble-tumble with Valentino, hmm?”

Her smile dropped. “Oh no, don’t start, Vaggie already lectured me! Yes, it’s fine. I’ve gotta go catch the bus now. I’ll see you sometime next week, I’ll text you.” Before Rosie left she made sure to put Charlie’s contact in Alastor’s phone to save him the five minutes to figure out how to do it.

“Darling,” Alastor said, “do you really think I’m going to drive off and let you catch a bus? I’m a gentleman, at least I try to be.”

Charlie blinked. “Oh, you don’t have to.”

“That’s true, I don’t have to do anything. I want to. Come on, the car is on and the AC is running.”

Charlie followed Alastor to his car. It was strange to think that she’d already been in his car once, that fateful Thursday night after their first meeting. Truthfully, it was strange to think that he met the young woman two days ago because it felt like she’d been on his mind for months, years even. She slid into his passenger seat with ease. She didn’t say much as Alastor drove his car off the lot and made his way towards her job. Everything was local, Charlie’s job was only a fifteen minute drive away, although with the traffic this evening, it would take closer to twenty-five.

“So… how long have you known Rosie?” Charlie asked while they were at a red light.

“Years and years,” Alastor answered. He was too focused on the annoying driver in front of him who texted at the wheel. He didn’t pick up on Charlie’s awkward tone of voice.

“You two must be really close,” she said.

“Yes, she’s very dear,” Alastor said. “It’s people like her who think the law doesn’t apply to them!”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. The driver in front of me is texting. Infuriating. Anyway, yes, what were you saying?”

Charlie looked away. “Oh, um, just asking about Rosie. She’s sweet. You two seem happy together.”

Everything clicked into place for Alastor. The light turned green and he didn’t even notice until the car behind him honked. He lurched forward, hitting the gas too hard. “Oh no, no, no, no, no,” he said quickly. “You misunderstand entirely, Rosie is like a sister to me!”

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry!” Charlie squeaked. She was red and desperately tried to look at her lap. “I didn’t mean anything by it, you two are just close, and you know, I just wondered, haha I’ll be quiet.” Fate seemed to smile upon the two because they arrived at Charlie’s workplace. The bar seemed to be busy because it was Saturday night. Charlie unbuckled her seat belt and turned to look at him. “Thanks again, Al.”

He thought she looked gorgeous in his passenger seat with the sun setting behind her. He didn’t want her to leave. “Be careful.”

“I will, definitely!”

“How do you plan on getting home?”

“Alastor, uber never sleeps in this city.” Charlie looked past him and at the controls. “You need to unlock the car,” she said with a smile.

He sighed. Letting her go caused a feeling of dread, which caused a feeling of loathsome confusion. He had never in his life felt such a degree of possessiveness towards someone. This was a grown woman, who he met two days ago, at that! She was free to do whatever she wanted, see whoever she wanted, talk to whoever she wanted–where in this puzzle was it his business?

You’re over your head, Alastor, he chided himself.

Alastor held his breath and unlocked the car. “Be careful, darling.”

She reached forward and grabbed his hand. She did the very action that he thought about earlier that morning when they stood next to each other with the coffee and donuts. Her hand was so pale and delicate, quite a contrast to his much tanner skin. She gave him a little squeeze that caused sparks to fly up his arm and straight to his heart. “Thank you,” Charlie whispered.

Just like that, she was out the car door and gone.

And just like that, Alastor’s world began to spin.

~*~*~*~

When she got off work it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. Charlie was exhausted but the $450 in tips she made was exactly what she needed to buy the paint for the center! The thought of picking out paint colors at Lowes was enough to keep her spirits up, but her resolve was quickly diminishing. She was tired. Her body felt like it moved through sludge.

Charlie stepped into the streets. She hit the wrong passcode with her phone twice, she was so tired. Hopefully whoever her uber driver was didn’t end up being a creep like the last few. When Charlie lifted her heavy head, she thought that she imagined the vision of Alastor leaned against the hood of his car, his hands in his pockets, the small smile on his smug face. She’d been thinking about him a lot lately.

She stood there in the street and blinked slowly. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. Alastor and his car hadn’t moved. “Are you…?” Charlie asked.

“Am I?” Alastor asked with a grin.

“Are you, um, real?”

He laughed. “Depends, do you often talk to your delusions?”

She skittered across the street and put a hand on his very tangible car. “What are you doing? You should be asleep. How long did you wait out here for me?”

“Relax, I couldn’t sleep. I tried, believe me. The idea of you taking an uber home late at night all by yourself didn’t sit well with me.”

“Alastor, really, it’s okay. I’ve been doing it for awhile.”

“Yes, but as you’re aware, things have changed around here. I’m your business partner and how could I, in good conscience, allow my star player to work herself into the ground?” Alastor hummed to himself as he got into the driver’s seat. “Come on, at this hour there’s little traffic, I’ll have you home in twenty.”

Charlie wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion that caused the lump in her throat, but she swallowed it down and got in the passenger’s seat. She wanted to cry tears of joy. She wanted to reach across the car and hug the man, give him all the affection in her swelled up heart. The idea of having Alastor at the mercy of her affections made her feel jittery with joy and scared like hell.

He was the Radio Demon, after all.

~*~*~*~

Charlie didn’t stop thinking about Alastor when she went to bed. She fell asleep with the help of a melatonin gummy and woke up at 8:32 to her phone ringing. It was her manager at the cafe asking if she could cover her coworker’s shift. Sundays were the only precious day that Charlie had to catch up on rest, but she couldn’t refuse the after-church crowd. “I’ll be there soon,” she told her manager. She sounded hoarse, even to her own ears.

“Thanks so much!” her manager beamed, clearly happy about it.

Charlie forced herself out of bed. The gummy in hindsight was a bad idea because she still felt like she was dragging her body through sludge. But she just needed to work a six hour shift and then she could rest all night until her shift tomorrow.

She checked on Angel in his room. He was fast asleep. He didn’t say if he had any jobs or not, usually he’d text her and let her know. “At least one of us is resting,” Charlie muttered. She got dressed and put her hair up in a ponytail, too tired to braid it. She got a muffin on her way out the door and went to her usual bus stop without a word.

~*~*~*~

The week seemed to blur by for Charlie. She finished her shift on Sunday afternoon, couldn’t sleep well that night, up and at her day shift at the cafe, straight to the center to work until seven or so. Husk agreed to work when she did at night at the center, which worked out to be from 3:00 to 7:00 in the evening. Charlie was pleasantly surprised when he showed up that Monday at three sharp following his attitude on Saturday.

“Hello,” Charlie greeted.

Husk nodded. “Hiya.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Sure. You gonna unlock the door?”

“Uh, yes.”

Husk was there again on Tuesday. “Good afternoon,” Charlie said.

“Good afternoon,” he said back.

“I brought an extra coffee from the cafe. It’s black, but I brought two sugars and two creamer packets. If you tell me how you like it I’ll remember.”

Husk looked at her with surprise. He seemed at a loss for words but Charlie only smiled when she handed him his coffee cup. “Uh, thanks,” he grumbled. “Two sugars and two creamers are perfect.” He followed behind Charlie and sat at his desk.

She lingered by the front desk before going up to her office. “Has there been any, you know, trouble?” she asked.

Husk shrugged and propped his feet up on the counter. “A few folks poked around, caught em up here yesterday.”

Charlie’s expression fell. She was expecting him to say no. “Really?!”

“Yup.”

“A-are you okay?”

Husk gave her a look. “Do I look okay?” he countered.

Charlie didn’t think that Alastor would be right about security. She knew that Vox stirred the pot on his broadcast, but she didn’t expect anything to actually happen. “W-why didn’t you tell me?”

Husk shrugged. “Didn’t want to scare a lady. So far nothing too concerning, just curious eyes on the parking lot. I told the boss.”

Alastor. He told Alastor. “I’m a boss, too,” Charlie said. She wished that her voice wasn’t so tiny.

Husk chuckled. “I’m sure you are.”

Charlie decided to let it go. Without another word, she went up to her desk. She had money to organize and materials to order for Saturday’s work. When 7 P.M. rolled around, she was more than ready to go. She walked back down where Husk was waiting patiently. “Goodnight, Husk.”

“Goodnight, Charlie.”

That Tuesday evening, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned and thought about Alastor. She hadn’t heard from him since he dropped her off at her house early Sunday morning. Alastor had his radio show to do, anyway. She knew from what Rosie said on Saturday that they had a lot of mess to clean up after Vox’s show. She knew he was busy, yet it made her sad that he hadn’t messaged her.

Does he miss me? she thought idly in her bed.

“Gah, why do you care?” she asked herself aloud.

Because you miss him?

~*~*~*~

Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday. Charlie had little sleep and felt like a zombie but got dressed and went to work anyway. She’d seen Angel and he said he was about to work a double, so who knew when she’d see him next. Still nothing from Alastor. Charlie felt terrible by the time she got off her shift at the cafe at 2:30. It took a lot of willpower not to fall asleep on the bus ride to the center.

Husk patiently waited for her in the parking lot when she approached the building. As tired as she was, she didn’t forget his coffee with two sugars and two creamers. “Hello,” she greeted.

Husk took the coffee from her and this time he gave her a small smile. “Thank you. But I’ve got bad news, princess.”

Charlie looked at the building. It had been vandalized with spray paint. Big words read “YOU’RE A LOSER, BABY” as well as several crude drawings of penises and boobs, “CHARLIE IS A BITCH” and “RADIO DEMON CAN SUCK DICK” written along the length of the building. Charlie’s heart clenched in her chest. She wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Husk said in a low voice. “It must have happened last night.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault,” Charlie said. Her voice broke. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I-it needed new p-paint anyway.”

Husk knew she was crying and felt uncomfortable, but followed her inside anyway. “I’m gonna make sure nothing happens to you when I’m here,” he said gruffly.

Charlie wiped her tears on her shoulder. “I-I know.” She scurried to her office and shut the door behind her. Still no word from Alastor. She touched bases with everyone; Vaggie, Niffty, and Angel. But she wanted to hear from Alastor. When was he coming back to the center?

Charlie didn’t lie to Alastor when she told him that this office was where she cried. She sat at her desk and did just that.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

“Uh, Charlie,” Husk said from the other side. “Boss is on the phone.” Charlie nearly jumped out of her seat. She ran to the door and opened it. Husk stood on the other side and handed her his cell phone. “Make it quick please, I need to be at the entrance.”

She nodded. “Hello?”

“Charlie?! Are you alright?!”

She didn’t expect to hear Alastor sound so concerned. “Yes, I’m fine,” she answered.

“Were you crying?”

Damn him, he was too good at picking up details even if he wasn’t in person. “No,” Charlie said.

“Okay,” Alastor said. He didn’t buy it. “Why haven’t you answered my texts?”

“What? I haven’t received any texts from you! You didn’t answer my texts!”

“I most certainly did!”

Charlie took out her phone and went to their conversation. There was her text from Tuesday asking how things were going and no response. “Are you sure it sent?” she asked.

“Well I can’t check, I’m using my phone to speak with you. I don’t think I can talk to you and check my messages, that’s not possible.”

Charlie groaned. “Is Rosie with you?”

“Yes, we’re at the studio.”

“Give Rosie your phone.”

Alastor didn’t have time to reply, because in the background Rosie began speaking loudly. “Charlie!” she exclaimed from the phone. “Hold on, let me see what he did now.” Charlie waited patiently, although she knew that she was on Husk’s phone and he needed it back. After a few moments, Rosie’s voice was back. “Alastor, you fool! You never hit send, your text is still a draft!”

Charlie smiled. So he didn’t ignore her, after all.

“What’s the send?” Alastor asked.

“The green button!”

“No, the green button is the call button.”

“No, the green button that’s shaped like a telephone is the call button!”

“Okay,” Charlie said. “Husk needs his phone back. We’re okay.”

“Wait!” Alastor exclaimed. “Charlie, don’t be there alone without Husk.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow after my show. Will you still be there by six?”

“Uh, I have my shift at seven, but I think I’ll be here until 6:30 or so.”

“I’ll be there.”

The line hung up.

~*~*~*~

When Charlie went to the center on Thursday, she quickly ran into the building without looking at the outside. Vaggie wasn’t too pleased to see it when she saw it earlier, and Charlie had to hear about how “this is all Alastor’s fault” for twenty minutes.

“Vaggie, I don’t have the energy for this,” Charlie finally said. “I haven’t slept well all week. I feel like shit.”

Vaggie looked at her and seemed to notice it now that it was brought to her attention. “You look exhausted.”

Charlie sighed. “I know! I think I’ve had six hours since Sunday.”

“Shit, Charlie! Call out from your shift tonight to sleep.”

“You know I won’t do that.”

“You should do that.”

The young woman sighed. “Please. I just need to focus on getting these purchases made for our big projects Saturday.”

“Alright, alright.”

Vaggie left by five that afternoon. Charlie diligently typed away on her laptop. She heard her phone ring and without thinking, automatically reached to answer it. “Yes, Vaggie, I’ll remember to text Niffty.”

“Charlie?” the voice on the other line asked.

Her eyes widened. She dropped her phone.

It was her father.

Charlie scrambled to the floor and hung up the phone. She felt her entire body breakout in chills and her vision go blurry. Lucifer actually called her. Her dad actually called her!

Charlie sat on her knees and put her face in her hands. “Fuck,” she muttered. She just wanted everything to stop. She scrambled back to her desk and leaned over it, putting her face in her crossed arms instead.

~*~*~*~

Alastor couldn’t believe that he didn’t know which button was the send button in texting. He felt like an idiot when it came to cellular devices and he thought he had a good handle on his “dinosaur” as Rosie would say, but this texting business proved otherwise.

“In a rush today, hmm?” Rosie asked him when he ended his Thursday broadcast.

Today was the first day that Alastor didn’t smoke a cigarette after his show. “Gotta go,” he said. “Charlie’s shift starts in an hour and I want to see her.”

He left before Rosie could give him her two cents, let alone a knowing smirk. She still smirked to the empty room and shook her head. “Ah, to be young and in love.”

Alastor saw the vandalism with his own eyes. He felt the anger bubble up inside of him and parked crookedly in his spot because of it. Oh well, other than Husk’s car, the lot was empty. “Vox will pay for this,” he grumbled as he slammed his car door. It was 6:28 when he pulled up into the center. Alastor opened the double doors to the center with more force than was necessary.

“Hey, you didn’t say anything about having to work Thursdays,” Husk said when he walked in the building. “You told me Monday-Wednesday and all day Saturday.”

Alastor didn’t hide the anger in his tone. “Then why are you here?”

Husk frowned. “Well, I didn’t want Charlie alone.”

“Your service is appreciated. I’ll talk to Charlie about coming here alone.”

“Wait, if you’re here, mind if I leave? I got something going on. It’s just thirty minutes early.”

Alastor waved his hand at him. He was impatient to go upstairs and see Charlie. “Yes, fine. We’ll lock up. See you Saturday.”

Husk nodded. “See you then.”

Alastor wasn’t one for running, but he fast-walked his way down the hallway, up the stairs, and down the hallway to Charlie’s office. Her door was closed. He thought about knocking–it was the gentlemen thing to do–but decided against it. Instead, he opened the door and saw that she was asleep in her chair and hunched over her desk.

Oh, Charlotte.

Alastor walked around the desk and put a hand on her shoulder. “Darling, wake up.” She stirred at his touch and looked up at him with big, bloodshot eyes that welled with tears. His heart dropped to his stomach. “Charlie…”

She crumbled under his gaze. “I… I don’t think I can do this.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Of course you can.”

Charlie spun in the chair to face him more. He kept his hand on her shoulder. His heart beat so loudly that it was in his ears. Without looking away, his hand trailed from her shoulder to cup her cheek. His skin felt like fire against hers and he wondered if she felt the same.

“Alastor,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, her gaze was still burning into his.

Alastor was tired of fighting it. He needed her. He needed more than just a brush of an arm, a squeeze of a hand, a hug, more than a cup of a cheek. He needed to taste her. He needed to lose himself in her. He was tired of fighting.

So, he stopped fighting.

He surged forward and kissed her. He cupped her cheek with both hands and pulled her up to her feet so he didn’t have to lean so far forward. Charlie gladly stood up, and although he had to lean forward because of his superior height, she more than happily tilted her head up to give him access to her mouth.

Alastor did more than kiss her. He ravaged her mouth with his own. She was at his mercy. She kissed him back, and put two shaky hands on his chest. When she grabbed his vest and tugged him closer, he growled into her mouth. His tongue rolled over her own. He dominated the kiss, tasting every crevice of Charlie’s mouth. All she could do was hold on for the ride. When she let a moan slip from her mouth, he had a primal reaction.

He tore his mouth from hers. A line of spit ran from their mouths and drool spilled onto his chin. Very un-gentlemen like, he knew it, but he didn’t give a fuck. He grabbed Charlie by the hips and sat her down on the desk. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he crushed her flat into her desk, kissing her once more.

Only the sounds of their wet lips meeting filled the room. Charlie moaned again, and in response, he ground his hips into hers. She gasped when she felt his erection through their clothes. Alastor leaned back to look in her eyes. She was a mess; flushed face, bruised lips, wide doe eyes.

“You. Are. Fucking. Sweet.” Alastor told her between kisses. He captured her lips once more and she ran her hands through his hair, combing her fingertips through his scalp. He tasted her with his tongue, rolled it over hers and explored every crevice of her mouth with his. Their kiss was sloppy, desperate. She tightened her legs around his waist and he pressed his erection into her hips. He wanted her to feel him, to feel how much he wanted her.

She broke their kiss with a gasp for air. She hadn’t been kissed like that in awhile, if ever. She couldn’t remember. Charlie didn’t think she could remember much of anything in that moment. All that mattered was Alastor. His menthol breath, his body keeping hers secured into her desk, his hands on her hips that gripped her so desperately that she may have fingertip-sized bruises.

God, she hoped so.

Charlie looked up into Alastor’s dark eyes. He looked at her like she was his prey, like he was the hunter who finally caught her in his trap. A thrill ran up and down her spine. It didn’t matter that this was the Radio Demon; it didn’t matter what she thought of him before; or what Vaggie thought of him; nothing else mattered.

The only thing that Charlie cared about was the desire that gleamed in his eyes. He wanted her.

“Alastor,” Charlie whispered.

“I’m here,” he said. He kissed her once more, molding his lips to hers, and this time she was the one who bucked her hips into his. He groaned into her lips and she smiled, enjoying the feeling of hardness between her legs. God, she wanted him. She wanted him badly. He wanted her, too, that much was obvious. She couldn’t deny the pride that swelled inside of her; Charlie Morningstar made the Radio Demon hard.

“Darling,” he said against her lips. “Can I f–”

Alastor’s question was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering. It came from downstairs. Alastor reacted quicker than Charlie and picked her up, swinging her behind him so she was between himself and the wall. “Al!” Charlie squeaked.

“HEY, GET BACK HERE!” a voice boomed.

“Husk!” Charlie and Alastor said.

Someone broke into the building.

Notes:

SO MUCH HAPPENED IN THIS CHAPTER.

*ahem*

Thank y'all for reading, I appreciate it so much. Also, confirmed, Niffty in this story ships AlastorxVox LMAOOOOO. I will hopefully have more later this week! Thank you for all the kind, thoughtful comments, I appreciate them so much!

Chapter 5

Summary:

Alastor and Charlie's little moment was interrupted by a sudden intrusion at the center. What follows after?

Alastor was by no stretch of the imagination an athlete. Yet when he heard the loud crash downstairs, he practically flew down the flight of stairs. He skipped steps and nearly tripped (great, snapping his neck by falling down the stairs because he couldn’t be bothered to hold onto the railing, oh wait there was no stair railing because the building wasn’t up to fucking code yet) but he made it to the first floor in record time. Alastor looked down the hallway where the front entrance was; the double doors were swung open. He bounded down the hallway, vaguely aware of the sound of Charlie’s own footsteps following him closely.

When he got to the lobby, he saw that someone threw a brick through the front glass window. Other than the broken glass on the tile floor, nothing seemed to be out of place. Alastor hurried to the outside. “Husk!” he cried out.

Low and behold, the older man was on the ground a few feet away from the entrance. He was on his back, rolling side to side, his eyes scrunched up from pain. “Lord have mercy,” he whimpered through gritted teeth.

For a quick second, Alastor thought that Husk was shot and his stomach dropped. He was at Husk’s side in an instant. So far he couldn’t see any blood. “Husk, what happened?” he demanded.

“I got… oh God… I got–”

“Yes, what? Did you get shot? Stabbed?”

“I got a cramp!”

Alastor’s face fell. He stood back up and watched Husk writhe on the dirty sidewalk. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking? I tried to run after the perp, but as soon as I did one full stride, it tweaked in my thigh and lower back. I should have stretched first.” Husk stopped writhing side to side, although his face was still a painful grimace. “Don’t just stand there, help me up!”

Alastor did as he asked without argument. He extended a hand and pulled too roughly and caused Husk to groan as he was jerked onto his feet. The older man hunched over and put a hand on Alastor’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Is he hurt?!” Charlie screamed in distress. She finally made it to the two men. “Oh God Husk, don’t give in! Don’t go to the light, I’ll call an ambulance! Stay with me, please, you’ve still got so many years on this earth!” as Charlie screamed these promises, tears welled up in her eyes.

“He has a cramp,” Alastor stated matter-of-factly. Charlie blinked away her hysteria.

“Fuck you, it’s not funny,” Husk hissed. He let go of Alastor and struggled to stand up straight. “Yikes, I’m gonna feel that tomorrow. I was sitting in my car, getting ready to leave, when I saw some guy come onto the property. I got out of my car and questioned what he was doing, but he carried bricks with him in his backpack. He threw a brick at me first, then the building. Smashed the window. I tried to run after him, but you see what happened.”

Alastor looked at the brick that was a few yards away from Husk’s parked car. “Did you see what he looked like?”

“Young guy, long hair. Tall and lanky. Wore all black.”

Charlie looked at Alastor and shrugged. “He doesn’t sound familiar to me.”

“Yes, it appears this was another vandalism attempt. He was either brave or stupid to do it with our two cars in the parking lot, he could have waited until we left for the day,” Alastor mused.

Husk took a deep breath and stepped between the two. “Well, luckily I sat in my car for a few minutes before driving off. I happened to see him. I’ll be there Saturday, but don’t come here without someone with you, okay Charlie?”

It surprised her that Husk took an interest in her safety. She nodded. “I promise. Should we call the cops?”

Husk and Alastor seemed to have the same answer without saying so out loud. “Your call, princess, but I don’t think it’s necessary,” Husk answered. “They won’t take it seriously and we didn’t see what the perp looked like, it won’t help much at all.” Husk took a deep, wheezing breath. “Okay, I think I can drive home now. I better stretch tonight. Are you two ready to leave? What were you two doing up there by yourselves?”

The question posed was innocent enough. It was a good thing that when Husk asked this question, he didn’t look at either of them, instead he looked down at his pants to wipe off some dirt. If he had been looking, he would have seen Charlie flush a bright red and Alastor a soft pink. It was quite the contrast to see her pale skin flush so bright and his darker skin to lighten; an artist would be inspired. Husk, however, didn’t even notice and if he did he wouldn’t give much of a shit. His leg hurt.

“I think I’ll take a closer look at the brick,” Alastor announced suddenly, already walking away.

“Uh, um, uh,” Charlie stammered.

“That’s great,” Husk replied. He finished dusting off his pants. “Okay, I’ll be back Saturday.” Without another word, he hobbled off to his car.

Charlie found that she couldn’t look at Alastor without combusting into flames. “I’ll call Vaggie,” she said. “I’ll take off work tonight. Vaggie is working at the hospital, I’ll walk down and meet her.”

“Yes, good,” Alastor muttered. He felt like an idiot while he bent over to look at the brick that was thrown at Husk’s car. It was just a run-of-the-mill brick. “Do you want me to walk you over to her?”

“Oh, uh, n-no, thanks, you keep looking at the brick.” Charlie was fully turned away from Alastor. Her entire body was tense. “I’ll uh, I’ll text you! If you can’t figure out how to text me back just call me. Thanks!”

Without warning, the young woman sprinted off towards the hospital entrance. Alastor watched her run away from him unceremoniously; she looked like a gazelle as she did so. She must have ran before in her life, she had an even stride. He lingered in his spot and made sure that she entered the hospital, which it looked like she did successfully.

Finally alone, Alastor looked up towards the darkening skies above and audibly groaned. “Why did I say I’d look at a fucking brick?!” he asked the empty skies above. The cigarette he skipped after his show was causing nicotine withdrawals. He needed one badly. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip out of sheer curiosity–his lips tasted like hers.

Fuck, he thought hopelessly.

~*~*~*~

“Another five minutes and then I want you back on set.”

“Val, I’ve been here since six, fuck, just let me go home.”

Valentino was not in the mood for games with his actors. He hit a puff of his cigar and blew the smoke into Angel’s face. The rings enveloped him like a halo. “A halo for my Angel,” Valentino used to say, in his soft, vulnerable voice. That Valentino was far gone from the man who stood before Angel now. He was riled up, angry about something that was beyond Angel’s control. “Did I fucking stutter?” he asked with a raised voice. “Five minutes and then get your ass back on set. We’re finishing this promo tonight.”

Angel grit his teeth as he watched the tall man walk away from him. He hated Valentino. He hated himself, too, for thinking that he once loved him. Some people aren’t worth love; and Angel knew he was in the same boat as Val. Maybe that was why he so often lied to himself that Val wanted what was best for him–because maybe if two people who don’t deserve love deserve each other, love can be found.

He snickered to himself and shook his head. He needed a cigarette. If this were as little as a month ago, Angel would have taken the edge off with some coke. There was plenty around, it was a porn studio, after all. That was how most of the actors were able to work sixteen hour days; drugs, alcohol, and a lot of nicotine.

But Angel knew if he took a bump, even a small one, that would ruin his fifteen day streak of being clean. He had to pick one vice to drop and he didn’t want to say goodbye to booze just yet. He decided it was time to quit the drugs.

Angel thought about Charlie. She really thought he could be better than he was. Some days she was the only one who thought so. She had been stressed earlier in the week, and finally on Wednesday night, it all came to a head.

“I think I’ve done more harm than good, Angel,” she told him that evening.

“You mean the vandalism? Vags told me. It’s not your fault, you know that.” It wasn’t often when Angel was the one doing the consoling, versus being the one consoled. Not that it was ever hard to cheer Charlie up.

However, that evening she seemed to be exhausted. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that made her come off as desolate. “It’s not about vandalism. It’s us,” she said.

Angel didn’t expect to hear that. “You breaking up with me, toots?” he tried to joke.

Charlie didn’t smile. She didn’t even pretend to smile to make him feel better about his bad joke. “I shouldn’t have encouraged you to come to the bar with me while I was working.”

“Ah jeez, I’m sorry about Valen–”

“No,” she cut off. “Not him, he’s not your responsibility. I’m taking accountability for myself, Angel. I can’t call you my first ever client for my program and then hangout with you at bars where I’m encouraging a bad environment. It was selfish of me. I wasn’t thinking, I just wanted to have fun with you… but I can’t have my cake and eat it, too. I want to, believe me, I love cake. I especially love the kind that has ice–”

“Charlie, focus.”

“Right. I want what’s best for you, Angel. It makes me so happy when you use your spare time to help me with my center. And I hope if you’re ever in trouble, or you ever feel like you’re about to do something you shouldn’t, you feel like you can call me or Vaggie to help you.”

Angel was not prepared for sad Charlie, but he especially wasn’t prepared for this level of sentimentality from her. “Hey, Char, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. I deserve half the blame, yeah? I’m the one who went out to a bar and drank in the first place. If it wasn’t at your bar, it would have been any bar! I’m not picky.” Charlie looked at the kitchen floor and bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. Angel knew when the water works were close. He crossed the kitchen and pulled her into an assuring hug. “I know you want to help, but you know everything I do is my choice, right? It’s not your fault. It’s not your problem.”

She buried her face into his chest. Angel tried not to think about the fact that she would get tears, mascara, and probably snot on his favorite lounge shirt. “I’ve just gotta do better, is all,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“No babes, we’ve gotta do better.”

It was hard to believe that Angel had that conversation with Charlie as early as last night. He felt like it had been a week since then. He smoked a cigarette and hunched over the chair in the lounge area. His body ached for a bump of coke. It would take the edge off of the next few rounds of filming. It would make him numb.

“Fuck,” Angel muttered. He took out his phone and texted the only person who understood him, flaws and all.

You free tonight? I need to get the fuck out of this studio xx

Within thirty seconds, Cherri replied:

Hell yeah bitch!

“Angel! On set, now!” the director shouted from the other room.

Angel sighed and put his phone down. His entire body shook with the prospect of going out with Cherri and getting fucked up. He wanted to be numb. He wanted it badly.

However, a smaller part of him also stirred inside of him. He promised Charlie that he’d be better, didn’t he?

Now wasn’t the time to think about the Morningstar woman or her savior program. He had scenes to shoot.

~*~*~*~

Thursday night turned into Friday morning, and Friday morning turned into Friday afternoon with only forty minutes until Alastor’s final show of the week. Rosie had worked in overdrive with her blog posts about the rehab center, pictures, and writing up the blog entries for the Radio Demon. She showed Alastor her first official post about his new segment Redeem the Sinners Initiative. A name that Rosie came up with on the spot of publishing and didn’t run by Alastor.

He skimmed what she wrote (the building was abandoned in x year, blah blah, Charlie found it doing blah blah) Alastor didn’t need a history lesson. He also didn’t need to read Rosie’s work to know it was polished, he knew it was. Rosie showed him a few pictures from Saturday; one of him holding a broom and brushing the spiderwebs off the wall; one of Angel and Vaggie carrying out an old couch, and one of Charlie leaned over the front desk reaching for the last donut in the box.

Alastor stared intently at the last picture. Rosie took the shot without asking her to pose first, and Charlie looked so pleased to get the last donut in the box. She had a small smile on her face. Her hair was coming out of its loose braid and was fanned around her face in a golden aura. Her eyes, big and bright, were solely focused on the sprinkled treat before her.

“Looks great,” Alastor had told Rosie. “We’ll be sure to get more pictures Saturday.”

“I’m not getting there at nine, no way,” Rosie said. “I’ll be there at noon.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “If you insist.”

She did.

Now, with forty minutes until show time, Alastor sat at his desk and reviewed his notes for the show. Rosie was in her producer room. Her headphones were on and she mouthed along with her music. She liked to listen to music before each show, unless of course there was material they needed to speak about. They had already conversed about their show earlier when Alastor arrived around 3:00. He told her he was going to address the vandalism. Rosie agreed to turn the heat up for the listeners.

Alastor looked at the written words on his paper but didn’t comprehend any of them. He hadn’t seen Charlie since the parking lot fiasco and he hadn’t texted her, either. She hadn’t texted him. She was supposed to work at the bar tonight.

He thought about the way he pinned her body to the desk with his own. It was like she was made to fit him, like his missing puzzle piece. Every inch that her body touched made his own turn to flames. He wanted all of it. He thought about the way her lips bruised under his–he was hardly the gentleman last night, was he? The way he ravaged her, he knew he should be ashamed of himself.

Alastor had no explanation for his actions. He was ravenous for her. He wanted to take her on the desk so fucking bad. He tried not to think past that, but it was too late. Charlie was on his mind, she was his only thought. He imagined how it would feel to sheath inside of her, how tight she’d squeeze him between her folds. What he would have given to have his mouth over her own, swallowing up her moans as he fucked her into the desk.

“Alastor, I need to go make some copies.”

He jumped in his seat at Rosie’s voice. “Huh?”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Copier, second floor.”

“Right.”

“You okay?”

“I’m peachy.”

“No, you’re red.” Rosie took a step closer to him. “Feeling alright, boss?”

“I’ve never felt more blood pumping through my veins,” he said through his grin.

Rosie decided to drop it. She left the office and closed the door behind her. Alastor let out a sigh that resembled a hiss. He was hard. His erection strained his pants and although he sat down and turned towards his desk, it was a nuisance.

He lit a cigarette. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had such a chokehold on him. It was shameful for him to think such depraved thoughts, especially about someone as darling as Charlie. Nothing good would come from pursuing her–he couldn’t imagine Vaggie would be pleased, it would look bad for the studio, people would think his involvement in the project was just an excuse to get laid, and lots of respect would be lost.

Alastor could picture the VoxNews segment now:

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m disgusted! Appalled! Sick to my stomach! The Radio Demon Alastor has been asking for your money and your goodwill towards Miss Morningstar’s little project and failed to mention that he’s fucking her every chance he gets when our backs are turned! The Radio Demon just wants you to fund his girlfriend’s camp counseling idea!” Vox would say while slamming his fists on the desk.

“Except I haven’t fucked her yet,” Alastor growled to himself. He took another hit off his cigarette. The nicotine helped his nerves but it didn’t help his problem down south.

He looked over his shoulder; no one else was in the office. Rosie had to go to the second floor. She’d probably stopped to chit-chat. Another thirty minutes until show time. The hand that wasn’t holding the cigarette slid down to his hard on. He rubbed it through his pants and imagined that it was Charlie’s smaller, much more delicate hand. He thought about her perfume, the remnants of her chapstick on his lips, and the way she eagerly bucked her hips into his the night before.

“Enough,” Alastor growled. He put both hands on the desk. It didn’t matter if he had to sit in this spot all night for his erection to go down, he would do so. “Think about something that will kill the mood,” he told himself.

He thought about Husk whining about the cramp in his leg.

Miraculously, the blood started flowing north instead of south.

~*~*~*~

“Charlie? You okay?”

She looked at Vaggie. The two were at the same coffee and donut shop as last Saturday. Today was a big day for the team; patch the holes in the walls and paint as many of them as possible. Charlie dropped off the paint buckets, brushes, paint rollers, and tarps Friday afternoon. Niffty, Angel, and of course, Alastor was supposed to meet them at nine that Saturday morning.

“Fine,” Charlie smiled. “Why?”

Vaggie didn’t seem too convinced. “You seemed far away.”

“I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

“Thinking about what?”

Who is the better question, Charlie thought. But she couldn’t tell Vaggie anything about what happened between her and Alastor. Vaggie would be beyond upset if she knew that they kissed. Even after knowing him one week, her opinion on Alastor hadn’t gone up at all.

How could Charlie tell her that the Radio Demon was the only one who’d been on her mind? She hadn’t seen him since Thursday evening. That entire sequence of events left her in a whirlwind of confusion. One moment she was stressing out; her dad calls her for the first time in nearly a year; she hangs up on him in a panic; she falls asleep; Alastor is there when she wakes up; they’re making out; he tastes really good; he kisses even better; she’s like eighty-percent sure he’s gonna fuck her against the desk; there’s a window smash and Husk cries; Husk has a cramp chasing the guy; Alastor says he needs to look at the brick; and Charlie disappears to the hospital to find refuge in Vaggie.

Charlie felt herself heat up just thinking about it. Alastor was so sweet when he found her at her desk.

”I’m here.”

Just remembering him saying those words caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter. Was this really Alastor, the same man who had his radio show where he was anything but sweet on his show? All the Radio Demon did was speak his mind and most of what was on his mind was controversial.

“Here you go!” the waitress exclaimed as she brought the donuts and four-pack to go for coffee. “Thanks again, Charlie!”

“Thank you!” Charlie smiled. “See you next Saturday!”

Vaggie held the door open as Charlie held the coffee and treats. “Come on, let’s get this job done,” Vaggie said.

~*~*~*~

Niffty, Husk, and Alastor were waiting in the parking lot at exactly 9:00. The three waited outside the building and seemed to be having a fine conversation when Vaggie and Charlie pulled up. Charlie held her breath when she saw Alastor for the first time since their last meeting. He took note of last week and wore an old button up shirt and slacks, as well as an old pair of loafers. His hair was tousled as if he’d just showered, his glasses slightly askew on his face, and his hands were tucked into his trouser pockets as he casually leaned against the wall.

She thought about how he had looked when he pinned her into the desk; the way his upper lip curled into a snarl before he grinded his erection between her legs in sweet torment.

Nope, don’t do this, keep it professional!

Vaggie and Charlie met up with the group. Alastor’s eyes found hers almost instantaneously. She averted her gaze. “Uh, coffee,” Charlie said.

Alastor reached for the one that was black. “Thank you, dear.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Husk said, grabbing his cup. “Where’s your other friend? Angel?”

“He’s not here?” Vaggie asked.

“If he was, would I have asked to begin with?”

“Easy there, gramps,” Vaggie growled. “I’m sure he’s just late. I’ll try calling him. We’re patching walls and painting today, guys. I’ve got some coveralls in my trunk just in case you wanted to protect your clothes.”

“Coveralls sound great,” Alastor said.

Vaggie eyed him. “Sorry, none in your size for your height.”

Alastor merely grinned in response. “It’s okay, I’ll be extra careful.”

~*~*~*~

Charlie felt like an idiot in high school. Most days she just felt like an idiot, but this situation with Alastor gave her butterflies like she was back in high school. Maybe it was the thrill that went down her spine every time he looked in her direction, or maybe it was the electricity that shot through her bloodstream every time he touched her. His touches were nothing major–brushing his finger against her own while handing her a paint brush, putting a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she rolled out the tarp–they were small touches but they burned her up from the inside. All they did was make her think of his lips and how not so gentle they were against her mouth. Charlie thought about how bruised her lips were after Alastor was through with her.

She wanted more.

However, the day progressed rather well without any sort of incident. For that, Charlie was pleased. Every room in the center had patched walls and a new coat of paint. Even better was that as the day progressed, Charlie noticed how Vaggie and Niffty warmed up to Alastor and Husk (well, Vaggie was less hostile to Alastor, which was as good as it would get).

The only one who was missing was Angel. He didn’t answer Vaggie or Charlie’s calls and her texts hadn’t been read yet. She was worried about him but she knew that she had to focus on the center first and then resume her worry about him later. This wasn’t the first time Angel went no call no text, but usually it was after a binge of things he shouldn’t take. The idea that Angel was back on drugs made Charlie want to cry.

Vaggie could tell it bothered her. It bothered her, too, just not to the same degree as Charlie. “We’ll find him, Char,” she told her while the two were taking a break near the front desk. The front desk was the designated snack/hydration spot.

“Y’know,” Husk said from his seat. “I used to be a private investigator in my younger days.”

“Really?” Charlie asked with enthusiasm. Anything Husk willingly said about himself she wanted to know.

“Yup,” Husk said. His eyes never left his book. “But back then things were different, nowadays, you can just check his location sharing.”

Vaggie and Charlie exchanged looks. Without a word, they both checked their phones. “He has it turned off,” Vaggie growled, frustrated with her friend.

“Sucks,” Husk commented. “Too bad you couldn’t just track his phone.”

“Yeah,” Vaggie agreed. “Charlie, why don’t you go back to painting? I’ll be right there, I just need to fix my ponytail.”

“Sure thing,” Charlie said. She scampered off doing exactly as she was told.

When Vaggie looked back down at Husk, he met her eyes with an expectant smirk. “How much?” Vaggie asked, using her best business voice.

“Depends on how much gas we’ll use,” Husk answered without missing a beat. “But you can start with buying me another six pack of beer.”

~*~*~*~

Alastor was not satisfied when they called it a night after the Saturday of working. Eight hours was simply not enough to get done what he wanted done. Charlie insisted on painting the inside but Alastor felt strongly about painting the outside as well. He hated to see the spray painted words “CHARLIE IS A BITCH” whenever he drove on and off the lot; it made him grip the steering wheel and think murderous thoughts.

So, acting as Charlie’s second-in-command and business partner, Alastor took it upon himself to buy the paint needed to paint the outside (he quite enjoyed the cream color he chose) and his idea was to wait until everyone left at 4:30, then come back and paint the outside himself. He was quite confident in his ability to do it alone, and should any perps come onto the scene with bricks, he’d promptly snap their necks.

The plan was put into action quite efficiently. Charlie left the center and walked off the lot to the nearest bus stop around the block. Alastor, who had parked at the hospital lot around the corner, drove back around to the center. He grinned ear to ear. Within ten minutes, he was set up with his paint and set to work getting the outside covered.

He forgot the last time he worked alone outside. Perhaps since when he was a teenager. He hummed to himself and painted for the next hour and a half. By the time he was done, the light was beginning to leave the skies as it turned dark. He checked his wristwatch; almost 7:00 on the dot. All he had to do was finish up, clean the materials, and he could be home with leftover jambalaya by 7:30. Perfect.

However, it seemed that his plan was never meant to be put into action. He had left a paint bucket on the top of his ladder and when he moved to take the tarp, he knocked into the ladder.

The good news was that the paint bucket never fell off the ladder and gave him a concussion. The bad news was that it fell over on its side and three-fourths of paint spilled atop Alastor’s head. He held his breath and did his best not to scream.

This was unacceptable.

~*~*~*~

Alastor hated to be dirty. Every hair on his body stood up like he was shocked by electricity and he felt like he had to crawl out of his own skin. He was glad that he was alone so no one could see the grimace of sheer disgust on his face. The paint spared no mercy. It spilled on his head and covered him from head to toe. His hair, his face, his glasses, clothes, he even felt the paint squish between the socks in his shoes.

“Unacceptable,” Alastor hissed to himself. He tried to stop the panic from rising up his throat. He had to get clean, now. There was no way in hell that he would ruin his car interior with all this paint on him. Forget taking any sort of public transit home, the headlines would have “RADIO DEMON COVERED IN PAINT TAKES BUS” by that evening.

As if fate took pity on him, Alastor remembered that Charlie’s office had a bathroom with a shower. But it was all the way upstairs and he’d have to walk through the building.

Think, think he told himself. The sheets to cover the paint! He could put that on the floor and slowly shuffle up the steps. Clothes? Alastor remembered that there were paint coveralls that Vaggie got for herself that she left at the center. He’d have to cut it to make it fit, and he’d have to hear her complain about it, but it would at least cover him. Towel to dry off? Alastor remembered the roll of paper towels that they kept on the front desk for their snacks. He imagined drying himself off with the entire roll of paper towels, squeezing himself into Vaggie’s coveralls, and then driving himself home like a petulant child.

Oh, and shoes? He had no solution for that. He’d have to drive home barefoot, and the idea made him want to gag.

“Fuck,” Alastor hissed.

He made quick work of his plan because the longer he waited, the longer the paint was on him. He swore he could feel it drying in some places and it made his skin crawl. He dutifully grabbed the tarp, shuffled inside the center, grabbed Vaggie’s coverall that she left by her paint brush, the roll of paper towels (really, Alastor, how far from grace you’ve fallen) and he managed to shuffle his way up the stairs and to Charlie’s office.

If she had locked the door he’d have to pick the lock. Not the hardest task in the world. He opened the door with ease. “Charlotte! You should lock your doors!” he admonished the empty room.

With an angry huff, he stepped inside her office, careful about the paint and the tarp, and practically nose-dived to her bathroom. Heaven had mercy; her bathroom had a shower. It was hard to tell if she used it or not, but she took the time to get a cupcake-themed shower curtain, so she must have. Then again, this was Charlie. She could have gotten the shower curtain because seeing the cupcakes made her happy.

He made quick work of getting out of his paint-covered clothes and shoes. Even when he was alone, Alastor still blushed as he discarded his clothes into the corner of the bathroom. This was too weird for him to be taking a shower anywhere but in the comfort of his own home. But this was his best option and he couldn’t bear the fumes of the paint on his skin. He needed to wash this wretched paint off quickly. He turned on the shower and let it run so it would be warm.

As the shower warmed up, Alastor found himself looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He had a moment of clarity as he stared at himself–never mind the paint that covered his hair and smeared his face, but the uncomfortable gleam in his eyes. It occurred to him that he was over his head and he didn’t have a fucking clue what he was doing. And never once in his life did he ever question his own motives. He always knew what he wanted, certainly he always knew what he was doing.

But the man who stared back begged to differ.

“A tiger never changes its stripes,” Alastor told his reflection.

He didn’t really think that people would change. He was upfront about that, wasn’t he?

You pulled your punches because you knew it would hurt her feelings.

Look at you, Alastor, covered in paint because you wanted to surprise her. You’ve let her consume your thoughts and turn you into a horny teenager. She thinks you believe in her, but you don’t believe in a goddamn thing. People can’t really be saved.

Alastor groaned and stepped into the shower. It was nice and hot. He allowed himself the luxury of wallowing in his self pity as the water slowly washed away the paint.

~*~*~*~

He felt better when he stepped out of the shower simply by knowing that he was clean. He didn’t enjoy the idea of using the paper towels to pat himself dry (great, little fibers of paper towel to catch on the skin) but he knew that he just had to “dry” off, put on Vaggie’s stupid coverall, then hightail it outta there so he could go back home and take another shower.

And a drink. He deserved a fucking drink.

Alastor waited a moment to let himself drip dry before doing the unthinkable. He shook his head and pulled back the shower curtain.

“OUT, SQUATTER!”

Unfortunately for Alastor, he didn’t have his glasses on because he had to shower. If he had, he’d have seen the flash of blonde that barreled towards him carrying a large paint roller. All Alastor saw was Charlie charging towards him, a wild expression in her eyes, her arm out and ready to strike with the paint roller.

That is, until she saw that it was him who was in her bathroom, and all steam left her sails as her battle cry turned into a shriek and her ferocious eyes of a predator turned into the scared eyes of a bunny. Charlie tried to stop her momentum and in her sudden stop, she slipped on paint that Alastor dragged in from his clothes.

“Ah!”

“Charlie!”

CRASH!

He reached out to try and catch her, his arm catching on the shower curtain, and she slipped and fell in his arms. She knocked them both backwards; Alastor’s back hit the shower wall and he took most of the damage (without hitting his head, thankfully) and they both collapsed to the shower floor. Only the thin, cupcake-themed shower curtain between Charlie and Alastor’s naked body.

For one long moment, there was silence.

Then, chaos erupted.

“Al!” Charlie shrieked. She was completely on top of him and faced him. “Oh no, oh God, did you hit your head? I’m so sorry! I slipped! How many fingers am I holding up?”

“None,” he bit out.

“Right, hold on.” Charlie freed her hands from the shower curtain. “How many?”

“Four.”

“And now?”

“Still four.”

“And now?”

“Charlie, I’m obviously not blind.” Alastor was still as a statue beneath her. He tried not to think about the fact that he was naked and Charlie was on top of him and that he could feel every inch of her underneath the very thin, very cheap shower curtain. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Me?” she asked. “This is my bathroom! My office! What are you doing here?” Truthfully, she went to work without checking her schedule and seeing that she had the Saturday night off. She was filled with glee at knowing that she had the night to herself and she wanted to swing by the center to get a few more things done on her laptop. Secretly, of course, because she had promised Alastor and Husk that she wouldn't go there alone (but it was just going to be really fast, no biggie, really!).

“Touche, darling. I needed to, uh, clean up after a paint accident.” Alastor’s eyes drifted towards his discarded clothing.

Her eyes followed him. “Oh,” she said stupidly. “I thought you were a squatter. I heard rustling when I went into my office and I couldn’t believe someone actually had the nerve to use my shower. I never in a million years thought it would be you.”

“Ah, that explains why you came at me yelling, ‘out squatter’ it all makes sense now,” Alastor stated dryly. His eyes narrowed. “And let’s just pretend that it wasn’t me, that it really was some random man in your shower, your plan was really to beat him with a paint roller until he left?”

Charlie looked unapologetic. “Yes,” she said.

He shook his head. “Well, if you started locking your office, he wouldn’t have had access to your shower. You really need to start doing that!”

“Are you serious?! You’re going to lecture me while we’re in the shower together?!”

The way she phrased it put their predicament back into perspective. They were in the shower together, weren’t they? Charlie froze when the reality fully set in for her. She was on top of Alastor, fresh and wet out of the shower. He was naked.

“I should get up,” Charlie squeaked. She was filled with renewed vigor as she tried to get up and away from him.

“Wait, careful, it’s slip–”

The warning never fully left his lips. Charlie tried to get on all four and her feet slid out from underneath her. She smacked into him a second time, but at least he was already on the floor. Her face hit his bare, damp chest. This folly only made everything worse because the shower curtain slipped further down, creating less of a barrier between them. Charlie had a face full of Alastor’s chest and felt his soft skin all the way down to his hips. Her body was even more pressed into his than before.

Another silence lapsed between them.

“Your shower floor isn’t up to code,” Alastor said in a low voice. “Maybe you should get some non-slip floor stickers.”

Charlie lifted her head and stared at him. His eyes were waiting for hers; they gleamed with unadulterated desire. She swallowed thickly and wondered if he could feel her body tremble above his own. As if to answer her unspoken question, Alastor gently put his hands on her back. It resembled a tender gesture.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered.

“I’m not.” He rubbed small circles in her back with his thumbs. “You know, I think something did happen to me.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re hurt?”

“Maybe. I think something was knocked loose in my brain. Because ever since I met you, Charlie, you’ve been the only thing on my mind. I want to fuck you senseless, darling. I don’t ever want to let you go.”

Charlie saw the unspoken challenge in his eyes. The ball was in her court. He didn’t hide the predatory gleam in his eyes, much like the eyes he had on Thursday when he found her in the office. Alastor laid his cards on the table. It was her choice to hit or to hold.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She kept her eyes locked on his and kissed his bare chest to answer him. His breath caught in his throat and he stiffened as she kissed him, then ran her tongue up his chest to catch the water until her tongue was at his clavicle. He could smell her so strongly from this close.

“Alastor…” she murmured. His cock twitched when his name came from her lips. “I want you to fuck me.”

His hands moved from her shoulders to her hips where he grabbed her roughly. “That’s good,” he hissed. “Because as it happens, I want to fuck you.”

Their lips met instantaneously. It was the same as their first kiss and different at the same time. This time, Charlie was much more present, and she was much more determined to fight Alastor for dominance. He wasn’t one to give up a fight, however. Their tongues battled between desperate kisses. She had the upper hand by being on top and she scooted further up his body for leverage. His head was between her and a tub, after all.

He wasn’t one to give in easily. His hands went from her hips to grabbing a handful of her ass cheeks where he squeezed in delight. Fuck, they felt better in his hands than he could ever imagine. She squeaked at his sudden movement and he took her surprise to bite her bottom lip. “Ah!” she exclaimed. Alastor victoriously sucked her bottom lip and gripped as much of her ass as he could.

Charlie broke their kiss with a huff. She was red all over, completely flushed, and her own eyes were glossed with desire. “Not fair,” she said.

“It’s plenty fair, since I’m the one who’s naked,” he argued with a sinister grin.

She thought about his counterpoint. “Fine.” Charlie lifted her tee up and over her head, discarding it on the bathroom floor without a care. He didn’t expect her to actually do it, but when he saw her straddling him from above in a lacy bra, he was too stunned to say anything. All he could do was gape at her with big, blown out eyes. She was gorgeous; tousled blonde hair falling down her shoulders and back and her black, lacy bra to contrast against her pale skin. When he didn’t say anything for a few moments, Charlie blushed even redder, and turned her head to face anywhere but him.

It then clicked for him that she was embarrassed. “Charlie,” he cooed. Alastor reached up and grabbed her hand. He guided her hand down to his erection, and although the shower curtain was still a barrier, it left no imagination to how excited he was. “You’re beautiful,” he praised. “Fucking gorgeous.”

She tried to hide her smile. She at least looked at him. Her eyes softly appraised him. “You’re beautiful,” she said back.

He didn’t know what to say to that. “That’s nice, darling.”

Charlie leaned down and kissed his neck. He stiffened when she did so. He didn’t think that anyone had ever kissed him there. Charlie’s soft lips kissed from his neck up to the junction of his jaw. “I mean it,” she said. “You take my breath away.”

Alastor chuckled softly. “That’s what I should be doing.” He tilted her chin up to meet him and kissed her once more. This one wasn’t intended for battle of tongues; this kiss was chaste. He savored her lips against his own and ran his tongue along her lips, tasting her chapstick. She smiled against his lips and ran her hands up and down his bare chest.

He was never one for touching. He didn’t enjoy it. But now, with Charlie, he found himself craving her fingertips to dance all along his skin. She left a burning fire in her wake. He wondered if he burned her up, too.

The chaste kiss only lasted for so long before they both wanted more. They were ravenous for each other. Alastor grabbed her by the hips and lifted her up; as if reading his mind, she moved the shower curtain out from under her. He practically shoved her body back down on his own. This time there was no barrier between them. It was his bare skin against her skin, minus the skirt and panties that blocked his entryway.

He was never more pleased to know that Charlie chose to wear a skirt on this fine evening.

Alastor allowed himself the indulgence of running a hand down her stomach and under the waistband of her skirt. He lingered there to see if she’d object. Charlie wriggled her hips in response. It was his turn to grin into her lips as he dipped his fingers between her panties and her bare skin. He found her folds with ease and he wasted no time to delve two digits into her heat.

She practically mewled into his mouth from the intrusion.

“You’re wet,” he gasped. He sounded surprised about it.

Charlie couldn’t help but give a little giggle. “And it’s not from the shower, either,” she whispered playfully. Alastor forgot how to breathe. He thought about her wet folds; he thought about the way it would feel, taste, and clench around him. But to finally feel them between his fingers was another sensation entirely. He hissed out and began to pump her. She was wet, tight, and warm.

“Ooh,” she moaned. She relaxed into him and let her weight sink on him. Charlie’s mouth occupied itself with his neck, giving licks and nips, while Alastor focused on plunging as far into her folds with his fingers as he could. He added a third digit and she thrust her hips in response. “Fuck,” she moaned into his neck.

“Perfect,” he praised. He leaned up so he could have more leverage. Charlie did nothing to weigh him down and he scooted back so he was propped up against the shower wall. She leaned back up to look at him. Charlie scooted herself down so her pelvis aligned with his. She bit her lip and began to grind herself on top of him. “Oh, fuck.”

The friction was sinful. Charlie knew what she was doing when she moved her hips into his own. The only barrier between them was her panties. Alastor pulled his fingers out of her and put his hands on her hips so he could anchor her down on top of him. He pushed up into her as she ground down on him.

Alastor leaned forward and mimicked Charlie from earlier and kissed the valley between her two breasts. She pushed herself into him in encouragement, and with one quick movement, Charlie had her bra undone from the back. She shrugged the lacy article off without much care. Alastor felt his erection press painfully into her when he found himself face to face with her bare breasts. He was vaguely aware that he was salivating, but he didn’t care. He latched onto her boob and ran his tongue along the perked nipple. She moaned in response and desperately grinded into him.

As much as he wanted to suck her breasts for the next hour (or two, or three) he couldn’t ignore the growing anticipation down south. “Do you want this here, darling?” he asked with a rasp.

“What?” she asked back.

“Is this how you want it? For me to fuck you in the tub?”

Charlie understood that even after everything they’ve done, Alastor still gave her a way out. It didn’t matter to her if someone threw another brick through the window or lit the building on fire–Alastor was going to fuck her. She responded by reaching down and pulling her soaked panties to one side. She never broke eye contact, even when she lined the tip of his swollen cock with her throbbing heat.

Without a word, Charlie sank down.

They both nearly jumped out of their skins. Charlie didn’t realize that he was so big and he didn’t expect her to snap herself onto him like that. “Fuck,” Charlie said. She was trembling.

“Here, hold on,” he said. He held the base of his cock with one hand and helped her ease down onto him. Charlie bit back a whine. It had been awhile since she was filled up; and it had been even longer since he filled someone.

She finally took the entire length of him inside of her. She grimaced, waiting for the pain to subside. He was still beneath her, watching her intently. Finally, Charlie nodded. “Okay, let’s move.”

Alastor experimentally bucked his hips into her sweet heat. He groaned at the tightness of her walls. It was so much better than he imagined it would be. Alastor took it slow, watching Charlie’s expression as he carefully thrusted. When it looked like she wasn’t wincing as much, he gave her an especially deep buck.

Charlie moaned louder than she ever did before. It was sweet music to his ears. She arched her back and leaned forward to put her hands on his chest. She was such a sight above him with her mess of golden hair, her breasts swinging with every thrust, and the way her eyes screwed tight in focus. She moved on top of him, riding his cock with stuttering hips and shaky exhales.

“You take me so well,” Alastor praised. He was never one to speak during sex before, yet he couldn’t stop himself. “You’re so deliciously tight, darling.”

Charlie seemed to respond well to his praises. Her walls clenched in response around him, making him almost see stars. “I-it’s been awhile,” Charlie admitted breathily.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “However long it’s been for you, I promise, it’s been longer for me.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. This was what Charlie Morningstar looked like when she was lost in the sensations of pleasure; Alastor committed her expression to memory. He never wanted to forget this. Charlie surged forward and kissed him. He met her lips eagerly and kissed her as he pumped her. His hands were restless and didn’t stay on her hips, instead they moved to every inch that they could find. Her thighs, her back, her waist, her belly–he wanted to feel all of her.

Alastor felt her hands tremble as they dug into his chest. It occurred to him then that Charlie was using a bit of strength to stay in the top position and she was tiring out. He broke their kiss and grabbed her chin to hold her in place while his gaze burned into hers. “Are you ready for me to finish you?” he asked with a growl. His tone was serious, like this was business.

“Y-yes,” Charlie nearly whined. “Please.”

He grabbed her hips and while still inside of her, made quick work of standing up in the tub. Charlie was surprised by the change of positions but held on dutifully. Alastor’s much taller frame proved to be more than capable of carrying her as he stood up to his full height. He was much stronger than he looked; there was muscle beneath his wiry frame, and every muscle went to work as he hooked her legs around his waist and positioned himself in the shower. He had complained about the slippery tub but that worry was long forgotten, and at that point the tub was halfway dry. Alastor found his footing and not-so-gently pinned Charlie into the bathroom wall. From this leverage, he controlled the intensity, and he made sure to really drive into her heat. He wanted as much of his length inside of her as possible.

She scratched his back in response. Her skirt was flipped up over her stomach and her panties were so stretched out that they were hardly a concern. “Fuck,” Charlie hissed. Alastor was deep inside of her from this angle. She was at his mercy pinned between him and the shower wall. From the wild expression on his face, mercy was far gone. A heat pooled in her belly at the idea of it; Alastor, the Radio Demon, who would fuck her mercilessly against the bathroom wall. She wanted him so much that it ached.

The last thing she saw was his signature grin (this one wider, much more unhinged) before he made good on his promise and fucked her senseless. His hips bucked into her at a rough, erratic pace. He filled her to the hilt each time, pulled nearly all the way out, and slammed back in. The sounds of their hips meeting filled the bathroom.

It was sinful.

Charlie held onto his shoulders for dear life as her orgasm closed in on her. Alastor leaned forward and his hot breath was on the shell of her ear, his erratic breathing driving her insane. He demonstrated his full strength when he gripped her with one hand and used his other one to slide up and between her legs. Her eyes shot open when his fingers roughly danced on her clit in unison with the pounding of his hips. "Next time it'll be my tongue that touches you here," he growled low in her ear as he teased her clit. Charlie mewled. He knew exactly what he was doing when he fingered and fucked her, and with a breathy moan, Charlie found her bliss. She cried out as she came, and Alastor claimed her mouth as his prize and swallowed her sweet sounds.

He used as much of his restraint to hold back so she could come first. It was the gentleman thing to do, after all. But when Charlie clenched around him as she saw stars, she triggered him to follow soon after. Alastor bit her shoulder as he finished inside of her. He gripped her with both hands on her ass cheeks and crushed her into the wall with his full body weight as he rode out his high.

Then, he let them slide down the bathroom wall, slowly sinking to the floor together. There was silence between them as they both tried their best to catch their breath. Finally, it was Charlie who recovered first. “Well… feel like rinsing off again a second time?” she smiled.

“Together?” he breathed.

“That would save time and water!” He grinned. The idea of it already made blood rush south. He’d be ready for a second round in just a few minutes. Charlie looked towards the bathroom. “Why are the paper towels in here?”

Alastor nearly frowned. “Uh, well, I didn’t have any bath towels and I had to dry off somehow…”

Charlie giggled in glee. “Al! I have towels under the sink, silly! You didn’t look under there?”

“No.” Charlie laughed until she was out of breath. She put her hands on her face and giggled through her fingers. “It’s not that funny,” Alastor said, although he couldn’t help but grin uselessly at her amusement. When Charlie lifted her face, tears sprang to her eyes from laughter. He thought about the last time he saw tears in her eyes. It was from sadness; now it couldn’t be anymore opposite, could it?

He wondered if he’d be able to make her laugh like that again in the near future.

Notes:

AaaaAAAaaaahhhHHHhhh I cannot believe I wrote all that, oh my gosh xD That was probably my longest chapter yet (9k words) and I will say that I won't be able to post again on Sunday, it'll have to be next week for the next chapter. So sorry! Please accept this chapter as recompense, and hey, we finally got our smut lol. I'm by no means GREAT at writing smut scenes, but I am pretty pleased with how this one turned out. Thank y'all so much for the comments and support for this story! Remember how I said in chapter one that this will be 4-5 chapters long? HA! Little did I know it would take 5 chapters to get to the smut lmaooooooo

Thank you so much for reading! :)

Chapter 6

Summary:

Husk and Vaggie team up to find Angel. Charlie and Alastor finally gave in to temptation.

“I don’t think bringing the jittery one is a good idea.”

Vaggie looked at Niffty then back at Husk. His car was pulled up in front of the coffee shop where they agreed to meet at 5:00 sharp. Niffty having an espresso at this hour probably didn’t help her case, either.

“She brings a wild card energy to the dynamic that we need,” Vaggie answered. “Niff, you get the backseat.”

“Backseat all to myself, hell yeah!” Niffty cheered. She eagerly swung open the door and jumped inside. “Oh gross, beer cans!”

Husk gave Vaggie a disapproving look. “If she blows our cover it’s your fault.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes and got in the passenger’s seat. “What is this, some sort of spy mission? Huh? 00Husk?”

“Very funny,” he grumbled. “Where do you think Angel could be? Any guesses?”

“His job at the porn studio would be my first guess.”

“Oh great, off to a porn studio on a Saturday night.”

“Yeah!” Niffty cheered from the backseat.

Husk gave Vaggie his cell phone. “Punch in Angel’s number for me.” She did as she was instructed. She didn’t recognize the app or software that Husk used to track someone’s phone, but she supposed if it was simple enough she wouldn’t have needed him. She punched in the number of Angel’s cell and handed it back to him. He clicked a few buttons. “Consent? Where the fuck is that?”

Niffty and Vaggie exchanged worried glances. “Oh no,” Vaggie said with a groan. “Consent is Angel’s favorite club.”

“Old favorite club,” Niffty corrected. “Didn’t he pinky promise Charlie that he’d never go there ever again?”

“Pinky promises are pretty serious,” Husk commented, the sarcasm oozing from his deadpan tone.

Vaggie shook her head. “Only one way to find out. The night is young, it’s not even six yet. We can get him and get him home in no time.”

~*~*~*~

There was a carnal delight in Charlie going home with him, which overshadowed the embarrassment of following through with his humiliating plan of wearing Vaggie’s coveralls to drive home. Alastor didn’t plan on being seen like this; squished inside a paint coverall, barefoot, and completely a mess, but at least he didn’t have to debase himself by drying off with the paper towels.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Charlie was an absolute carefree mess and she seemed to have the time of her life. Perhaps it was her orgasm, or perhaps it was having her first Saturday night off work for the first time in months. Charlie’s skirt, panties, and sneakers got damp in the shower since Alastor had previously used it, and without much of a care, she turned the shower on with her clothes still on.

“You’ll be soaked!” Alastor objected.

“I already am!” Charlie winked, laughing hysterically at her clever joke.

He was in awe of her. This was a far cry from the woman who he met in his office (a week and a half ago at that) who was so tense and stressed from her program. He had a feeling that this was closer to the real Charlie Morningstar, and he felt pleasantly surprised to catch a glimpse of her when she wasn’t stressed out or on the brink of tears.

Do you think you’ll ever show her your real self? a voice asked in the back of his mind. The side of you that doesn’t smile all the goddamn time?

After their shower, Charlie’s sneakers loudly squelched as she stepped out onto the tile. Her hair was loose and she shook her mane back and forth like she was a golden retriever. “You’re absolutely wild,” Alastor noted with an amused smirk. He reached under her sink and grabbed the two bath towels she had. “What would you do if you didn’t have me? Ride home on the bus soaking wet?”

Charlie gave him her own smirk as she grabbed a towel for herself. “Absolutely.”

He wrinkled his nose in disapproval. “Over my dead body.”

“Well, you are practically crawling out of your skin at the idea of putting on that coverall. I don’t want to keep you from your home anymore than necessary.”

His heart skipped a beat. “You’re not coming home with me?”

Good job, Alastor, sound like a puppy dog with its tail between its legs, why don’t you?

Charlie lifted her face up from the towel. She smiled brightly. “You want me to come home with you?” she asked.

He sighed, perhaps too dramatic of an exhale, and to answer her question he bent down and kissed her lips. Just a quick peck, anymore and they would have another round on the bathroom floor. Not that he was opposed to it, but good lord, he wanted to be in the comfort of his home with her.

“As long as you’ll stay, I’ll always have you,” Alastor said, his voice low.

Shivers broke out from the top of her head and all the way down to her toes. Her arms broke out in goosebumps, although she didn’t think he noticed. “Well,” Charlie said, her voice shaky. “Sounds like a plan.”

~*~*~*~

It was funny to think that this wasn’t her first time at his apartment. The first time was random, unexpected. It felt different as he drove them home that he was deliberately bringing a woman back home. Thankfully, this time her eye wasn’t puffed up from a punch and he wasn’t using every ounce of self-restraint to stop himself from getting in a fight.

“Your clothes can go in the dryer,” Alastor said when they walked into the living room. “And I have a special dryer bag that your shoes can go into as well.”

Charlie smiled. “I appreciate it. Sorry about causing you more work.”

He waved a hand. “No issue. Those same clothes I let you use last week are folded on the edge of the bed in the guest room. They should still be clean, but I have other clothes if you’d prefer it.”

“No, uh, the clothes you gave me were great. Thank you!”

Charlie scampered off to the guest room to change and give him her wet clothes. He hoped that she wouldn’t read too into why he had just folded the clothes and left them there. Truthfully, the shirt and sleep pants smelled like her, and he didn’t have the heart to wash away her scent just yet. This was back when he figured that she hated his guts and he’d never see her again.

Alastor decided to follow suit and change into better clothes. He went into his bedroom across the hall and was more than happy to rip off the wretched coverall. He’d make sure to burn it. He changed into a pair of joggers that he liked to use as house pants and a casual three-quarter sleeved button up shirt. And shoes. Always shoes.

He looked at himself in his dresser vanity mirror. His hair was much fluffier because he didn’t use any shampoo or conditioner in the shower, but otherwise, he looked the same. Alastor didn’t consider himself particularly handsome, certainly not drop dead sexy. The idea of describing himself as that seemed silly. He thought he was moderately attractive and he took pride in his clean appearance and always being presentable to the public.

“You’re beautiful. You take my breath away.”

Charlie’s praise from earlier in the evening rang through his head like a song on repeat. He watched his reflection turn pink from what she said. Alastor shook his head and turned away from the mirror. “Alright, calm down,” he told himself.

When he went back out into the living room, Charlie was dressed in her pajamas and sat down on his loveseat. “I found the dryer and started it, if that’s okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. He’d allowed himself to get distracted for too long. “Yes, thank you. Now, what kind of host would I be without offering food? How would you like some jambalaya, darling?”

She perked up at the offer. “I’d love some!”

~*~*~*~

The distance to Consent wasn’t great, but the rush hour traffic was something to behold. “I have to pee as soon as we get there,” Niffty said from the backseat.

“Why did you get a coffee?” Vaggie asked.

“I thought it would help!”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. There was nothing to do in this bumper-to-bumper traffic except get on her phone. Husk seemed content with his easy-listening tunes and kept his eyes on the road. She wondered to herself why she, a grown woman with a mortgage, put herself in these stupid situations when she could be home watching Netflix. She tried not to get caught up in her self-loathing, it wouldn’t help anyone. Vaggie resumed her scrolling until Husk asked, “So we’re hiding this from Charlie?”

She looked up from her phone. “For now. It depends on how bad off we find Angel.”

“You don’t think the princess can handle it?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t want Charlie to feel disappointment. She really thinks that Angel is trying his best to stay off the drugs and she’s put a lot of faith into him. It would crush her if he relapsed.”

“Isn’t that how these things go? People relapse, fall off the horse. They have to get back up eventually.”

“I know that. And so does Charlie. But Angel is our friend. It’s much more… personal.”

Husk didn’t let much show from his facial expression. “And what do you think?”

“About what?”

“About him? Think he’s doing something he’s not supposed to?”

Vaggie sighed. She usually didn’t play 20/20 questions, especially not with men. But Husk was different, he wasn’t some college guy who tried to mansplain things. He’d been respectful enough thus far. “I think Angel has a lot going on,” Vaggie muttered. “He’s got a bad business contract with his boss, Valentino. If he breaks it, Val can sue him for what little he’s got. Not just that, Val is corrupt and crossing him could put Angel’s life in danger. I’ve seen it before. Angel is between a rock and a hard place.”

“Hmm,” Husk said.

Traffic slowly but surely moved. They crept along at thirteen miles per hour. Vaggie pretended to get back on her phone but she felt the unspoken question in the air. It bothered her.

“Out with it,” she growled.

He seemed amused by how curt she was. “You shouldn’t protect Charlie’s feelings. She’s a grown woman.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m aware.”

“So don’t tell me what to do.”

“Just an observation.”

Vaggie crossed her arms. She felt like a petulant teenager in the passenger seat while her dad lectured her. Husk surely wasn’t that much older than her, but he sure seemed like it sometimes. “So what if I do? Protect Charlie? She’s sensitive and she works hard and this is Angel we’re talking about! Our Angel!”

Husk shrugged. “If he relapsed he relapsed. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I can bring him home and beat his ass.”

That made him laugh. “You sure can.”

~*~*~*~

Alastor’s apartment wasn’t intended for company when he bought and furnished it. He thought at most he’d have two or three people over from the radio station to schmooze, an opportunity that only came up once in his entire career at the station. The only other person who had come in was Rosie, who was too busy lecturing him about the things he’d say on his show that she didn’t comment on his home decor.

He wondered if maybe he should have bought a dining room table and chairs, finally thinking about it after ten years without one. Charlie sat at the bar that overlooked the kitchen and gave her a front row seat to him microwaving the food. There were two seats at the bar. He could join her, he supposed.

Charlie watched him with fascination as he took out the tupperware container of leftover jambalaya and scooped a hearty portion into two bowls. “You cooked this yourself?” she asked.

“I did,” he answered as he hummed to himself. “I hope it’s not too spicy for you.”

“Oh, don’t worry! I like spicy food. I like putting those red pepper flakes on my pizza if I’m feeling extra daring.”

She was too cute. He smirked and put her bowl in the microwave first. He set it to two minutes and leaned against the counter as the food spun. “I enjoy cooking,” he said. Usually, Alastor was not one to offer information about himself. “My grandmother taught my mother who taught me before she passed.”

Charlie’s eyes got even bigger, if that was even possible. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Quite alright, darling. She passed away many years ago.”

“Do you have any other family around here?”

“No.”

“How long have you been alone?”

He paused as he thought of the exact answer to the question. “Fourteen years.” Saying it aloud really put into perspective how long he’d been the way he was. And until last week when there was a knock at his office door and Charlie was on the other side, he thought the way he was would continue until his last breath. Alastor opened the microwave, stirred the bowl, and set it again for ninety seconds. He looked at her through his messy bangs. He could tell that she debated asking more questions. “I plan on questioning you tonight, darling,” he said. “So go ahead and ask while it’s your turn. You won’t offend me.”

She looked down at her hands. “You like being alone.”

“Is that a question?”

“Well, it’s an observation.”

He smirked. “Being alone was a choice that suited me for many years. I like it.”

“Oh.” He knew Charlie well enough at this early stage to know when she was deflated like a balloon that lost helium. “Well, uh, I’ve done some digging,” she said.

“Have you? Tried to find dirt on the Radio Demon?” he grinned.

“You could say that. It’s quite impressive that you’ve been such a major figure in radio, a local celebrity, and you’ve managed to keep your personal life so under wraps.”

“That’s exactly the way I like it.”

“I tried to find out if you’d ever dated anyone.”

He knew that was where this was going. He was glad to finally hear it come out of her lips. He hummed lightly to himself as he took out Charlie’s bowl of food and put in his own in the microwave. “And what did you find?” he asked.

“You dated a woman named Mimzy when you were in your late teens?”

SMASH

Charlie shrieked when the bowl of jambalaya fell to the kitchen floor and broke into a million pieces. Alastor dropped the bowl when he heard the name of the woman he thought he had long-forgotten over ten years ago. He cursed to himself when he saw the mess and quickly wiped his hands off on his dish towel, which had steaming hot jambalaya on it. He didn’t notice the burn to his hands, he was too shocked to hear the name Mimzy.

“I’m so sorry!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Don’t get up!” Alastor commanded. “You don’t have shoes on, there’s broken glass!”

She froze in her seat, her eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Alastor made quick work to step over the broken bowl, stepped over to the fridge, and got back out the container of jambalaya. Thankfully, there was plenty more left.

“You can have my bowl,” he said as he scooped out more. A silence fell between them as he served up another bowl, stepped carefully to the microwave, and put both bowls in at once. He avoided her eyes, and he knew such actions would cause her to panic, but he didn’t want her to see the embarrassment in his eyes.

Charlie caught him off guard. Alastor was hardly ever caught off guard.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quickly. “I, uh, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no,” Alastor disagreed. He was happy to disappear into the pantry to retrieve his broom and dust pan. “Keep going. How did you find this out? I haven’t spoken to Mimzy in over ten years.” She seemed to hesitate. Perhaps she thought he was mad at her, or perhaps she was too embarrassed herself. Alastor kept his back to her as he swept up the bowl remnants. “It’s okay,” he assured.

“So, there’s a website people used to use back in the day called MySpace. Have you ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Well, it’s not as popular now, but back then it was. Mimzy had a MySpace back in those days and she had a picture of you two posed together. With an… uh… a heart emoji… and uh… she called you her sweet lil thang.”

Alastor was glad that his back was to Charlie. “That wretch,” he muttered under his breath. He took a deep inhale and exhaled. “Mimzy was my first and only girlfriend. We lasted one year, my mother liked her more than I did. I broke it off.” He went into his pantry and threw away the bowl shards in his trash can. When he came back out, he faced Charlie. She looked miserable. “It’s quite alright,” he assured. “I just didn’t expect you to say her name, is all. I haven’t thought about Mimzy in a very long time.”

Charlie was red from embarrassment as well. “I had to do a lot of digging,” she admitted. “I found it after scrolling and scrolling and scrolling through Google images and finally saw a match.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were that invested, huh?”

“I was waiting on the bus!”

“Oh, of course. That explains everything.” Alastor went to the microwave and stirred both bowls. One more round and they would be ready. “I’ll be the first one to tell you that I’m not very practiced in relationships, Charlie. I was ready to live a life of solitude, take my pleasures in my radio success and my interests, like jazz and music. I don’t think I was ever attracted to Mimzy, it was more of a relationship out of convenience. I swore that I was better off alone when I entered my twenties.”

“And that’s the only relationship you’ve had?”

He knew he’d need the help of alcohol for this. “Technically speaking, yes. When I was twenty-five I thought that maybe I’d enjoy company more if there were no strings attached. I… had a couple one-night stands. I gave it the old college try, as they say. It was useless. Those women did nothing for me. I gave up on the idea of any kind of attraction until y–”

Alastor stopped mid-sentence. Heavens above, he hadn’t even had alcohol yet and his lips were loose enough to sink ships!

He stopped talking to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. He handed Charlie her bowl of food and the water. For himself, he grabbed a glass and poured himself some whiskey. He took a drink. Then one more. It burned his throat so deliciously.

“You okay?” Charlie asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You can eat. I’ll talk.”

Charlie did as she was told. She took her first bite of jambalaya. Then a second. And a third. “Oh this is divine,” she said while chewing.

He smirked and leaned against the kitchen counters, crossing his arms. He would let his food cool for a few minutes. He took another long gulp of his whiskey and refilled the bottle. “I already planned on drinking,” he told her. “I suppose it’s rude of me to give in so readily to my vices when your whole goal is to help people resist them.”

Charlie noted the look he gave her when eyed her from across the kitchen. It was no longer easy going, something in the air shifted between them. This was some hybrid between Alastor and his Radio Demon persona. He wanted information from her, but he had to give information about himself to do it. Charlie steeled herself. Whatever curveball he wanted to throw her way, she was ready.

“I have vices, too,” she said.

He grinned. Another gulp of whiskey. “Is that so?”

“Of course. Everyone thinks that I think I’m better than them. Like I see them as charity cases.”

“Don’t you?”

“I see them as equals that need my help,” she answered carefully. “But no, I don’t think I’m better than anyone.”

“Hmm.” Alastor ran a hand through his unruly locks of hair. “So you mean to tell me that someone who’s abused drugs their entire life, who can’t hold down relationships or a job for that matter, is no better than you are?”

She leaned forward on the counter. “What good does it do them if I said I was better than them? How would that help them?”

Alastor shrugged. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit, dear. You’re so eager to give the less fortunate the shirt off your back, but have you ever stopped and asked yourself if they deserve it? You set yourself on fire to keep people warm, but they’ll happily watch you burn. They’ll always watch you burn until you’re nothing but a burnt corpse. And then they’ll watch the next person come along and burn, just like you did.”

She took a long drink of her water. “You’re very cynical of people. You think you’re better than everyone.” Her tone was serious.

“So what if I am?” he countered.

“So what if you are? Would you help those who are less fortunate than you?”

“Are they really willing to change, Charlie? Or are they just looking for a solution before they can get another fix?” Alastor grabbed his bowl of jambalaya, which was lukewarm the way he liked it. He took a careful bite. “I’ve been in this city my entire life. I’ve seen people promise to change only to go back on their word. Everything that you’re trying to do has been tried before.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But the key is that someone keeps trying. If my program helps one person out of a hundred and changes their life, isn’t that worth it?”

“You’re asking me if I think one reformed fellow out of the blood, sweat, and tears of a hundred others is worth my time?”

Charlie shook her head. “I don’t think we’ll agree on this matter, Radio Demon.”

He was thrown off that she used his stage name in his own home, but he recovered rather quickly. “You’re Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter. You could have a car if you wanted it. Hell, you could have a personal driver. You could live in your own home, you could go to any college you wanted, you could quit your shitty jobs.”

“I’m aware,” Charlie said. She was beginning to get excited and lose her composure. Alastor had years and years of upper hand about the art of debating. “And I guess that makes me stupid, huh? That makes me foolish in your eyes?”

Alastor’s grin never touched his eyes. “It makes you interesting to watch. You’re not afraid to take risks for your independence.” He took another bite of food.

“Is that why you’re helping me? For your entertainment?”

“I’m helping you because I want to, I thought I’d made that clear.” Alastor really didn’t want to go down this same path of questioning, he was tired of it. He made his next point. “You’re brave. I felt it the first day that you stepped into my office. The little girl stickers on your notebook might have thrown me, but your ferocity was impossible to miss. You know what you want, Charlie. And I don’t think anything I do or say, or your father for that matter, will change that.”

Charlie looked away from him. Alastor watched as she carefully flicked her head so that her hair could cover her face. His heart hammered almost painfully in his chest–she was crying.

Alastor put down his food and walked around the kitchen counter until he stood next to Charlie at her seat. She was curled into herself; crossed arms, eyes anywhere but on him, and a red flushed face. He felt like an intruder–he believed that when someone cried they were to be left alone until they composed themselves. But on the other hand, he had a strong desire to reach out and comfort her, a gesture he’d never done before.

“Oh, Charlotte,” Alastor breathed. Hesitantly, he cupped her cheek, only to find it was tear-stained. He bent forward so that they were eye-level and turned her face towards his so she could look at him, but she did everything she could do to avoid his gaze.

“I-it’s nothing,” Charlie said with a quivering lip. “You probably think I’m childish for crying. Huh? That I’m too s-sensitive?”

He felt awful. The whiskey burned his throat and heart. “I think you care a lot about what other people think,” Alastor answered softly. His eyes implored hers. She fought it as long as she could but his unspoken urge was too great. She met his burning gaze with teary eyes. “But it doesn’t matter what I think,” Alastor continued. “It doesn’t matter what your dad thinks. Or anyone. Fuck them! What matters is that you’re doing what you think is right, darling.”

She bit her lip. “I know…”

“For what it’s worth… I’m proud of you.”

“Oh come on, don’t say stuff just to make me feel better.”

“I’m telling you the truth. Look at me. I’m proud of you, even if I don’t agree with all of your endeavors. What’s not to be proud of? You work hard. You put your heart and soul into your passion. You have no doubt about what it is you want and you work towards it without hesitation or fear. You are a force of nature. I’m proud of you.”

Tears fell from her eyes freely, but before she buried her face into his chest, she smiled. “It’s nice to hear someone say it out loud. To feel like someone believes in me,” she said, her voice muffled.

Alastor hugged his arms around her and held her there. With Charlie sat on his bar stool, her head easily fit beneath his chin and he rested it on her golden crown. “You know you can do this even if you don't have my approval,” he whispered. “You know that, don’t you? That my opinion doesn’t mean shit. Just listen to VoxNews, my opinion is quite useless.”

She chuckled. “Maybe… but not to me.”

~*~*~*~

It was 6:23 when Husk’s old but reliable truck pulled into Consent’s parking lot. He stuck out like a sore thumb compared to all of the newer, flashier cars. “Alright guys, we’re gonna play it cool. If we see Angel we can’t just grab him and go, we need to scout out what’s going on first,” Vaggie ordered.

Niffty seemed disappointed at the idea. “I thought the goal was to snatch him,” she complained.

“I don’t wanna stick around this place longer than I need to,” Husk grunted.

Vaggie wasn’t hearing it. “We don’t know how or why he came back here, but if we corner him, we may not get the answers we need. Just follow my lead, okay? I’m the brains.”

“I must be the brawn,” Niffty said.

Husk and Vaggie exchanged glances. “Sure you are,” Vaggie said. “Okay team, let’s go.”

They were quite a trio when they got out of the truck. Two petite women, one built like a child, and an older man with a slight hunch and the beginning of salt n’ pepper hair. They looked like they were going to karaoke, not a strip club. Still, they had their ID’s ready to go and entered into Consent with no issue.

The inside of the club was the same as most clubs. Naked and half-naked men and women, lots of leather, a lot of flashing lights, the strong odor of sweat and liquor, and high-temp club music from the DJ in the corner. The party was just getting started at nearly 6:30 in the evening, but since it was Saturday, it was still generally busy.

“I just saw a boob,” Niffty said.

“You’ll see a lot of those and more, I’m sure,” Husk replied. “This club is bigger than I thought. Should we divide and conquer?”

Vaggie thought about it. “Yeah, not a bad idea. We’ll meet back here at the entrance. Remember, no intervening! Just try to find him.”

Husk nodded. He put his hands in the front pocket of his jeans and strolled off. He hadn’t been in a club since his heavy drinking days in his youth. Everyone thought that his six-pack a day was bad, but they had never seen him at the height of his drinking. The doctor told him that he didn’t understand why his liver was holding on, with the drinking he’d done it should be shot. Husk knew he was playing with fire, but he also didn’t think about that asshole doctor, let alone his liver.

He was interested to see where Angel was and what he was doing. The younger man made it no secret that he flirted with Husk, with the lewd comments and slipping “babe” in after saying things to him. Husk wasn’t much for flirtations. He didn’t mind chatting with Angel, who was intelligent conversation for 2.5 seconds until he slipped back into his shameless flirting.

Husk had to do a double take but found Angel. He was sat down on a couch in the corner surrounded by men his age who were dressed in very little clothing. Angel was the center of attention. Husk made sure to stand off to the sidelines so Angel wouldn’t see him. He tried to get a good look at his eyes and see if they were glazed over or not.

“Another drink, baby,” Angel told one of the men.

“You got it, sweetie,” he said back. He stood up and walked past Husk to the bar counter. Husk watched from his peripheral vision as the young man ordered two martinis and crushed up a white pill into one of the drinks. He swished it around until it dissolved in the pink liquid. “Here you go,” he said as he turned around and walked back to Angel.

Husk was pretty good at following directions. Military background, following orders was in his code. Vaggie was crystal clear when she said don’t intervene. But Husk didn’t take orders from anyone anymore, not his doctor, and certainly not Vaggie. He moved with impressive speed and slapped the martini out of the man’s hand. The drink went flying and broke on the floor with a loud shatter.

The man looked at Husk. “Hey man, not cool!”

Husk smirked. “Hey man, fuck off.”

WHAM!

Husk punched the young man square in the face. His hit was swift and brutal and he went down like a bowling pin. “Husk! What the fuck!” Angel cried from the couch. The other men stood up and postured up to fight.

The older man rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck left then right. “Come on fellas, give it to me.”

“Hey! What the hell!”

Husk and Angel turned towards Cherri, who approached the scene. She had two drinks of her own in her hands. A young man her age stood next to her, who was tall, lanky, and had long hair. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Husk said. “You’re the perp who threw the brick!”

“Pentious did what?” Angel said.

BAM!

The men who surrounded Angel had no time for reunions. They attacked Husk and ganged up on him with punches and kicks. Angel couldn’t just stand there and watch him get pummeled on. He was pretty sure that was elder abuse, or whatever the fuck he once read had said.

“C’mon, Cherri!”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

Five-on-one became three-on-five. Cherri and Angel were no strangers to bar brawls and they knew how to enter a fight. Once Angel pulled a guy off Husk, the older man was able to recover. It was a blur of kicks, punches, shoves, and screams. The scream came from Pentious, who stood there and dutifully held the drinks for Cherri. After all, she’d be thirsty after her fight.

It didn’t take long for the men to go down one by one. With one final punch, Husk knocked down the final perp. He was a bit bruised up, his lip was broken, but he felt pretty good. Angel and Cherri seemed to be relatively fine as well.

Before anyone could say something, let alone catch their breath, a new voice spoke.

“What the actual fuck, Angel!”

It was Valentino.

~*~*~*~

Charlie noted that Alastor had two glasses of whiskey within an hour. The bowl of jambalaya might have helped slow down the intoxication, but by the time the bowls were washed and drying, Alastor’s face was a bit red. He filled his glass a third time but sipped it slowly. Whatever drove him to drink the first two glasses seemed to have left his system.

She thought she’d feel awkward to be sat at his loveseat in the living room, but she found herself quite comfortable. Alastor’s place was inviting, comfy. The room lighting was not too bright, the jazz that played on his vinyl set was easygoing, and if she closed her eyes she felt like she was in a high end jazz club.

“Would it offend you if I offered you a drink?” Alastor asked from the kitchen.

Charlie shook her head even if he wasn’t looking at her. “I told you that I had vices, too,” she said. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn't on edge after everything that was said that evening. “A small glass, please.”

She didn’t need to see his face to know he had that stupid, shit-eating grin on it. “As you wish, dear.” He walked into the living room holding their whiskey glasses and set them on the coffee table in front of the loveseat. Charlie watched him move effortlessly across the room to his small bookshelf, where he picked out a book that had a bookmark halfway through it. “Do you read?” he asked conversationally.

“I love to, but lately I’ve been too busy. What do you like to read?”

“Nonfiction, fiction, murder mystery, history, and the occasional book on politics if I feel like riling myself up before my show.” Alastor sat down in the other cushion next to hers. He turned towards her and stretched his legs out lazily, while laying the arm closest to her over the top of the couch. It was like he was daring her to snuggle into his open arm and chest. She felt the pull of electricity, like Alastor was the fridge and she was the magnet. She peered at him and he met her glance with a knowing look through his glasses.

Charlie drank half her whiskey in one gulp. She thought about what he told her over dinner about his one-night stands when he was twenty-five. It was silly, Charlie knew it, but she couldn’t help but think of Alastor balls deep in a woman, her riding him the same way she did, moaning the same way she did just a few hours ago in the tub of all places. The idea of it made her squirm. She didn’t feel envy very often at all, but when she did, it was the worst.

“On second thought, I’ll look at your books,” Charlie muttered. She scurried off to his bookshelf and tried to ignore his eyes on her. She didn’t process what she saw when she looked at his books, she just needed to get away from him for the time being. Imagining Alastor fuck other women made her feel like she was on fire. She grabbed the book that had the most self explanatory title: Serial Killers of the 21st Century. Charlie steeled herself as she sat down at her spot on the loveseat. She tried to ignore the screaming urge to snuggle into Alastor.

He eyed the book she chose and raised an eyebrow. “I must say, that one is quite graphic.”

“I can handle it.” Charlie hesitated in her seat. It seemed that Alastor was perfectly comfortable to read his novel by the soft light of the floor lamp and sip his whiskey. She was the one with ants in her pants. She checked her phone clock; it was 9:09 on a Saturday night, the evening was still young. “Okay,” Charlie said. She finished off her whiskey and hiccuped from the sudden burn of it. “I’ve gotta ask, and you don’t have to answer.”

“Yes, darling?”

“How is it that you’ve had like, I dunno, a few sexual experiences and you’re so good at sex?”

His eyes widened slightly at her question. He reached for his whiskey and took a generous gulp. “I didn’t realize I was,” he answered hoarsely.

“Well, you are,” Charlie said. “And look, I have no room to judge or talk. I was a bit wild in my, uh, older teen years. I’ve had one serious boyfriend and maybe like three hookups that I remember. But all of that stopped when I was twenty-three.”

Alastor seemed to have regained his footing. “I see,” he said.

Charlie crossed her legs and faced him on the couch. “I’m just, you know, a little bit worried. And confused. Both, I guess. I don’t like having sex with people that I don’t have some kind of connection with, you know? I don’t want to just be, you know, your fuck-buddy.”

“Is that what you think I saw you as?”

“No! Well, I don’t know! It’s a bit intimidating to hear that you’ve gone so long without having any kind of sexual feelings for anyone and then I’m supposed to believe that you suddenly have it for me?! I’m just, you know, I’m just… me!”

Alastor chuckled at how frazzled she was. He pulled Charlie into him and she molded perfectly into his chest as she snuggled him on the couch. This was what her body wanted and once it got it, her entire being practically sang with glee.

“Imagine my surprise,” Alastor said, his voice a soft rumble in her ear. “When I thought that I was fated to a life of loneliness and solitude, and suddenly, the walls I’d been building around myself for years and years came crumbling down the moment you stepped into my office.” Charlie was as still as a statue. “My relationship with Mimzy wasn’t meant to be, and the much younger me didn’t have the fortitude to try again. Sex without feelings wasn’t for me, either. But Charlotte, don’t ever think that I don’t have any feelings for you. I adore you.”

She turned her face up and into the crook of his neck. She savored his soft skin, the strong smell of his body wash. “You mean it?” she whispered.

Alastor played with her hair and ran it through his fingertips. “I shouldn’t tell you this, because it’s embarrassing, and admittedly crude, but what better way to prove my point than to be vulnerable? Remember the first night you stayed here? After the club incident with Valentino?”

“Of course I remember.”

“Yes, of course you do. That night I had an erection, my first one in years. I thought you were some kind of enchantress.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. She sat up to look at Alastor eye to eye, face to face. “I did that?” she asked with a disbelieving grin.

He smirked down at her. “Indeed, you gave me quite the strain.”

Charlie snuggled back into him and opened the book to read it. She was grinning almost as famously as he did on his billboards. “Didn’t you say you had questions for me?”

“You just answered the majority of them, I was curious about your past as well. I think I’ll have plenty of time to pick your brain in the future, for now I think you’d appreciate the quiet, hmm?”

She resisted the urge to kiss him. Instead, she snuggled closer into him. “Sounds good to me.”

~*~*~*~

Charlie didn’t realize that she fell asleep until she felt Alastor scoop her up into his arms bridal style. The sound of the book falling to the floor made her open her eyes.

“Sshh, you can go back to sleep,” he cooed.

“Al,” she groaned as she buried her face into his chest. She didn’t care what happened, she just didn’t want him to let her go, he was so warm.

Alastor hesitated. The gentleman thing to do would be to put her in the guest bedroom and then retire to his own room. He knew that he shouldn’t assume anything, and certainly not assume that she’d want to be in his bed. Just the thought of having Charlie in his bed made him feverish with a sick mixture of desire and nerves. Maybe that much whiskey was a bad idea, after all.

He opened the door to the guest room. “Here, you have plenty of pillows and blankets.” He laid Charlie on the bed. She was limp from sleep but sighed in content when her head hit the pillow. Every nerve of his was on fire and he felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, but he left her in the room and closed the door behind him.

He felt like he had to cut off a limb. The idea was ridiculous, dramatic, overrated. But it was true. Alastor quickly walked across the hallway to his bedroom. “What the fuck is wrong with you,” he hissed to himself. Perhaps all of his years of chosen abstinence was finally catching up to him. Eight years of no sex, and now twice in one night? What was his problem?!

He brushed his teeth to try and get his mind on something else. He considered a cigarette (smoking before bedtime was a habit he’d dropped two years ago or so) but he decided against it. He checked his wristwatch before he took it off and put it on his nightstand: 11:45. Charlie was no doubt exhausted and he was, too. A good night’s rest was what was needed, even if he was frustrated beyond belief.

It was different when he only imagined what her body would feel like, taste like. But it was so much worse after he tasted the forbidden fruit, when he knew exactly what it felt like to be inside of her.

And, just like that, he was hard.

“God damn it,” Alastor muttered. He was ready to go to bed and turn off his table lamp, when he turned around and faced his bedroom door, which he forgot to shut behind him.

Charlie stood at the threshold, eyes big and bright. For a moment, they looked at each other. The world stopped spinning, time itself froze in that single second.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she said.

He let out a shaky exhale. “I don’t either.”

Charlie practically ran across the bedroom and leapt up into his waiting arms. Her legs went around his waist and he held her by the ass as their lips met in a heated kiss. They resisted each other as long as they could. The kiss was sloppy, both of them desperate to get as much of the other as possible. Alastor walked them to the bed and plopped her down. She went down with a giggle, and he looked down at her with hunger.

“This is better than the tub,” Charlie smiled.

“I’d have to agree,” he smirked. “Especially when there’s no shower curtain to get in my way.” Alastor stayed standing and bent down to kiss her again, crushing her into the soft bed instead of the hard wall of the shower. His tongue was fresh from his toothpaste and she let him have dominance over her mouth; he drank in his prize with glee. He tasted her and chewed her bottom lip, running his tongue over it as well. She wiggled underneath him.

Alastor lifted up to give Charlie enough room to take off her shirt. She discarded it towards the pillows of the bed and looked up at him with her chest bare and in sight. Alastor nearly drooled at the sight of her breasts. Their first encounter at the center felt rushed, a bit uncomfortable at the unknown scenarios that could play out. But this was his home, this was his bedroom, and this was where he was most at ease. Alastor was in control and confidence came from that knowledge. He allowed himself the luxury of putting Charlie’s boob in his mouth–as much of it as he could manage–and rolling his tongue over her perked nipple. She bucked into him and moaned at his ministrations. He circled her nipple with his tongue, gave a little bite, and with a pop he moved onto the other boob to give it attention.

“Ohhh,” Charlie couldn’t help but moan. She ran her hands up into his hair and grabbed a handful, tugging him into her.

He kissed his way down her ribcage until he reached the waistband of her pajama pants. Well, more like his pajama pants that he planned on never washing again. Alastor got down on his knees and stared up at Charlie between her legs. She looked down at him with a red face, her breaths erratic like she’d run five miles.

“Charlie,” Alastor praised. He put his face between her legs and pressed into her heat. Even through her pajama bottoms, she smelled divine. His mouth watered at the idea of tasting her, and his erection strained even more against his sweatpants.

She seemed embarrassed about it. “A-are you sure? If you haven’t, you know, eaten, uh, gosh what am I saying. It’s okay if you don’t want to because I get it if it’s been awhile for you,” Charlie said quickly, her words strung together like she was drunk. “I might not, y’know, taste right.”

He grinned. He didn’t want to laugh at her, so he just grinned. “I don’t think you understand how fucking delicious you are,” he said.

“You don’t know that.”

“Care to let me find out?”

Charlie sucked in a breath and lifted her hips up. Alastor helped her guide the pants down her creamy legs until she was bare beneath him. This was a sinful set up; Alastor knelt at the bed, Charlie’s legs hanging off the side, and he had the perfect view into her cunt. He saw the slick from her arousal and he couldn’t hide the pride that bubbled up inside of him. She was this wet because of him. Alastor leaned forward and kissed her outer lips. Charlie jumped in anticipation. He reached out an arm and laid it over her stomach to keep her in place. Then, he closed his eyes and gave her one long, languid lick, his muscled tongue plunging between her lips.

Charlie writhed at the lick but forced herself to endure it.

Alastor pulled back so he could look at her. “Just as I said,” he rasped in a hoarse voice. “Fucking delicious.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

“Charlie, would you be so kind as to let me eat that pretty pussy of yours?”

She covered her face with her hands. “You have no right to be so good at dirty talk,” she mumbled.

He gave a breathy laugh. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

Alastor didn’t wait another moment. He latched his mouth to her cunt and drank her in. Charlie’s reaction was instantaneous with a long, breathy moan. He smirked against her lips and plunged his tongue as deep as it would go. His spit mixed heavenly with her wetness and he indulged himself and moved his hands to grab her plump ass. From this angle, Alastor lifted Charlie’s hips up and angled her perfectly to receive his tongue’s assault. She cried out at the new position, her legs wiggling until she perched them over his shoulders.

Even better, he thought.

He felt like a glutton indulging in the finest wine. He slurped at her almost obscenely, fucking her with his eager tongue. She fell apart beneath him, and knowing that it was because of him only encouraged him to keep going. It didn’t matter how much his dick strained against his pants, he was going to finish his princess off. Alastor knew about the bundle of nerves even if he’d never personally tasted one. He found it higher up from her slit, and even if he didn’t think it was it, the cry that came from Charlie all but confirmed his exploration.

She reached out and tugged his hair. She was close by the way she squirmed into his mouth.

Alastor looked up at her; red in the face, hair fanned around her on the bed, eyes glazed over on the brink of pleasure. Her mouth made an “O” as she felt him. He experimentally pushed into her clit and Charlie bucked once more in response. Alastor knew that once he really fucked her in this spot, she’d come. He squeezed apart her ass cheeks, savoring them in his grip, and met her eyes.

“Are you ready for me to really fuck you?” he asked gruffly, his voice vibrating into her.

“Y-yes,” Charlie moaned. She felt like she was going to explode, she was so close.

“Then let me taste it, darling.”

He closed his eyes and hammered his tongue onto her bundle of nerves. Charlie screamed at his onslaught and he did exactly as he promised and fucked her with rapid flicks of his tongue. She didn’t last long and came on his face; she rode out her orgasm on his tongue and he lapped her through it, savoring the explosion of wetness that filled his mouth.

Charlie had to push his face. “Please, it’s so sensitive,” she breathed.

He popped off of her cunt with a satiated grin. The sight of Charlie before him with her legs spread and her sopping wet cunt glistening with spit and release was almost enough to make him come. He swallowed hard and laid his cheek on the soft skin of her thigh.

I could die happy in this spot, he thought to himself.

Charlie wasn’t satisfied with the idea of it. “Come here,” she demanded.

Who was he to tell her no?

He crawled back on top of her. She ravaged his mouth, kissing him fervently, as if to tell him thank you. Charlie tasted her release on his tongue and it made her squirm wildly beneath him. She reached an exploring hand down and slipped it sneakily between his waistband. She was too eager to find her prize and gripped Alastor’s erection in her hand. He groaned against her mouth when she found him, and she couldn’t help but smile at his reaction.

When they had sex the first time, Charlie was on top, and although she enjoyed it, it did rob her the chance to see Alastor’s dick. Sure, a dick was a dick, according to Angel anyway who also considered himself a dick expert. But Charlie wanted to see it for herself. She broke their kiss and shimmied herself lower, gripping Alastor as tightly as she could before pumping her hand up from the base to the tip.

“Whoa whoa whoa, where you going?” he asked.

She looked up at him with perhaps her biggest, doe-est eyes yet. “What do you mean?”

He swallowed hard. “There’s plenty of opportunity for that later, dear.”

“Oh come on, I let you eat me out, you won’t let me see your dick?”

His ears burned. “Fine, fine,” he said. “Sit back up, let’s not get too wild.”

Charlie laughed at how flustered he was about it. She decided to pity him and obey, plus he just gave her a mind-blowing finish. She could play nice. Alastor sat up on his knees, straddling Charlie who laid out towards the head of the bed, and he shimmied down his sweatpants. His erect dick sprang free in all of its naked, hard glory.

Charlie’s eyes were as big as the stars in the skies. She knew he was on the bigger side, she felt it earlier, but she must have been high off ecstasy because the dick she looked at in her face was big. The tip wept precum and she saw a tiny vein pop out, she hoped from strain. “You put that in me?!” Charlie nearly shrieked.

Alastor didn’t expect her to say that to him. “That’s how it works,” he said.

“Fuck, Al, you’re beautiful.”

He quickly took off his pants and discarded them on the floor. “You flatter me, Charlotte. If you don’t mind, it’s getting a bit painful…”

She knew that he was uncomfortable. She remembered what he confessed to her earlier about his very limited sexual encounters and she softened. There could be more talks between them later, and Charlie looked forward to the idea of getting him more comfortable around her when it came to his sex.

Charlie opened her arms to him. “I’m right here.” Alastor crushed his weight into her as he positioned himself on top, both hands on either side of her, bare skin on bare skin. He ran his length up her slit, silently asking for entrance. “Give it to me,” she breathed.

That was all he needed. He sheathed inside of her in one smooth stroke. Charlie moaned at the sweet, welcome intrusion. Alastor paused for a moment while he was fully inside of her. He wanted to feel every inch of her around him. With a steady breath, he pulled out, then back in, pause. She ran her hands down his back, scratching his skin lightly with her nails. He growled at the motion and lowered his mouth down to her bare neck, the junction where her neck met her shoulder. He pulled out, slammed back in, and bit her neck. She squeezed around him at the sudden burst of pain and pleasure.

“Y-yes!”

It was over for him. Alastor lost himself in her; he fucked her in earnest, out and in, and tasted her soft flesh between his teeth with his tongue. She was so tight, so warm, it was all too much. Charlie was so amped up that it didn’t long for her to fall apart and chase her second high. She came around him and the clench of her cunt drew out his release. He broke off his bite from her shoulder and kissed her sloppily as he rode out his orgasm. Their kiss was sloppy, clanking teeths and tongues, but it was perfect all the same.

Alastor sank into Charlie. He rested his head on her bare chest, both of them breathing erratically from the act. A silence lapsed between them as they both tried to catch their breaths and come down from their highs.

“Last question,” Charlie said, breaking the silence.

He smirked. “Go on.”

“The times after you’ve had your… uh… encounters… did you ever cuddle after?”

Alastor rolled his eyes but smiled in good humor anyway. He bent his head down and kissed Charlie’s chest, the spot that happened to be where her heart was. “You’re the first, darling.”

She smiled, pleased with herself. “Good.”

Notes:

Another behemoth of a chapter, WHAT-WHAT! Hahaha! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, I feel like banter between Charlie and Alastor is important especially after sex lol. I tried to give Alastor a bit more depth as a character and gave him the backstory with Mimzy (IT'S MEEEEE, MIMZAAAAAAY) because I didn't like the idea of Alastor being a sex god without SOME experience, but I also wanted to balance it with his canon character of not being sexual. This is why the tag "Charlie-sexual Alastor" is so great on here, I love that tag lmao. I wanted to bring back some of the confrontation from the first chapter. I empathize with Charlie because when I'm in a 'debate' or argument and I get fired up I also tend to cry. It's not weakness, it adds to her charm <3

Thank y'all so much for the wonderful comments and feedback, I truly appreciate it so much. I can't wait to write and post, I haven't been this excited/motivated to write in such a long time, and the old feeling coming back makes me so happy :)

Chapter 7

Summary:

Valentino confronts Angel and Husk at the club.

Husk didn’t know who this tall, feather-boa wearing motherfucker was with the heart-shaped glasses and eye-watering cologne, but he wasn’t bothered by him. He stepped in front of Angel and squared his shoulders. He wasn’t worried about their height difference, not one bit.

“Your turn to dance, feathers?” Husk asked.

Valentino sneered at him but his eyes were on Angel behind him. “Did you hire protection? You should know it’s useless against me, baby.”

Angel put a hand on Husk’s shoulder and stood side-by-side with him. “I’m off the clock, Val. Just let me have my fucking free time.”

“Oh, and what about the mess you and your bodyguard made, hmm? Knocking out five of my men, tsk-tsk.” Valentino gestured to the men that Angel, Cherri, and Husk made quick work out of by fighting.

“Did you tell em to spike his drink?!” Husk demanded. He balled his hands into fists. “You did, didn’t you? Son-of-a-bitch!”

Valentino grinned. “This club isn’t called Consent for nothing, asshole. Angel practically begs to be drugged, don’t you, baby? You love being so out of your mind that you forget your shitty life belongs to me?”

Angel grit his teeth. “Fuck you.”

“Oh, you want to disrespect me, now? I’ll show you what happens when you get smart.” Valentino lurched forward with the intention to shove Angel, but Husk wasn’t bluffing when he asked if he wanted to dance. Husk pushed Angel out of the way (it was surprisingly easy to shove him) and took advantage of Valentino’s position and tackled him like it was a football play. Both men grunted on impact when they hit the floor. There was a flurry of punches, yelps, and loose feathers that flew from the feather boa. Everything happened so quickly, the only thing that Angel and everyone else could do was watch helplessly.

“Give him a right hook!” Cherri cheered.

More of Valentino’s men arrived on scene, who made quick work to pull Husk off of their boss. Husk was aggressively thrown across the room, luckily, Angel and Pentious caught him before he toppled over completely.

Valentino stood up, his glasses bent on his face.

“Angel!” a new voice cried. Vaggie and Niffty finally found them. Vaggie grabbed Angel like he was a little kid who would wander off without her. “You’re in so much trouble,” she hissed. “You’re lucky Charlie doesn’t–”

“Of course this has to do with that fucking bitch!” Valentino jeered. “Oh, Angel, baby, you and your little friends have crossed the wrong lines. I’m going to destroy Charlie’s little program.”

“Hey! Fuck you! It has nothing to do with you!” Angel shouted.

“Oh, it does. I thought it was cute at first, I thought it would be entertaining to see you get on the horse and fall off again, like a little kid. But this has been drawn out for too long.”

Vaggie clutched Angel as tightly as she could. “Go ahead and try, bitch,” she swore.

Valentino wasn’t bothered by her threat. He snapped his fingers. “Please remove these people from the premises. They’re no longer welcome on this property.” The bodyguards nodded and began to close in on them.

“We can walk ourselves out, thanks,” Husk said.

With that, the group left Consent, with the guards following closely behind them until they reached the exit. Once they stepped out into the night air, all hell broke loose. Vaggie screamed at Angel, Niffty cried that she was barred from the club, and Husk decided now was the perfect opportunity to confront the brick-wielding perp Pentious.

Chaos erupted.

“Why the fuck did you come here?” Vaggie demanded.

“None of your fucking business!” Angel replied.

“I took him here to let loose!” Cherri defended.

“Oh sure, take him to his favorite club where he used to get fucked up every night, good idea!”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I didn’t take any drugs!” Angel exclaimed. “She took me here because their special was watermelon vodka and you know how much I love melons.” Vaggie shut her mouth. She did, in fact, know how much Angel loved melons. “And besides, how the fuck did you find me? Huh?” Angel demanded.

Vaggie didn’t do so well when she was the one being questioned. “Uh, ask Husk.”

Angel, Cherri, and Vaggie turned their heads to see that Husk had Pentious in a headlock. “WHY DID YOU THROW THAT BRICK?” Husk demanded as he bared down on Pentious.

“What the fuck, let him go!” Cherri shouted.

“Pleassssseeeee I’m sorry!” Pentious cried.

“The chair! Hit him with a chair!” Niffty cheered.

It was chaos. Absolute chaos.

Finally, Husk took pity on the young man and let him go. Pentious stood to his full height before slouching forward. “Your hands are so dry, you should use lotion,” he muttered.

Vaggie stepped between Husk and Pentious. “Were you the one who threw the brick at Charlie’s center? Yes or no? You broke a window!”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Cherri exclaimed.

Vaggie eyed the other woman. “Oh, I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Bringing Angel to Consent, taking him out on a night of drinking knowing we’re trying to reform him.”

Cherri threw her hands up. “Newsflash, bitch! He doesn’t want to be reformed! He wants to drink until his liver gives out and get fucked up with me! He wants to have fun not sit around in an AA meeting and tell everyone what second grade was like! Isn’t that right, Angel?”

All eyes fell upon the man in question. Angel, who stood there in his rhinestone crop top, leather pants, his hair all gelled up, just coming off a sixteen hour shift, who had brand new rings under his eyes from exhaustion. “I… I want to go home,” he said. “I don’t want to deal with this.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ve had enough myself,” Vaggie said. Poison dripped from her voice. “C’mon guys. Birds of a feather stick together, and if you wanna stick with Cherri, I can’t stop you.”

Husk, Niffty, and Vaggie headed back to Husk’s truck. It was going to be a long night home.

~*~*~*~

When early Monday afternoon arrived, the radio station employees noticed a certain glow about Alastor when he walked into the building. Mondays were busy with lots of hustling to get ready for five days of shows. Most of the employees were free to move about through the lobby and the floors of the building without much care, so long as they got their work done. As it happened on that Monday, most people were in the lobby conversing about their weekends.

“What the hell is up with Alastor?”

“Did he cut his hair?”

“No, it’s the same. What did he do?”

Alastor was too involved in his own thoughts to pay much mind to the gossip surrounding him. Not that he ever paid attention to his coworkers, anyway. He looked the same; a nice pair of slacks, shined shoes, a quarter-sleeve dress shirt tucked in, and a red vest over the top to give the ensemble a color pop. He walked in wearing a small smile in typical Alastor fashion.

There was no difference in his appearance, it was true. However, the difference came from the thoughts that occupied his thoughts with no eviction notice in sight–Charlie. Alastor used to go to work thinking about his show (Great, Rosie wants this asshole to come on and argue with me/Did I ever mention the construction protest?/I hope that caller from Tuesday comes on, I want to rip him a new asshole). Now, his thoughts were very singular:

Charlie.

Her timid laugh, the way she fell asleep next time to him last night, the delicious heat her body emitted, the look of absolute joy on her face when he offered to make her breakfast (by the way you need to buy chocolate chips for her pancakes next time, Al), the absolute carefree way she laughed at something he said, and of course, the butterflies in his stomach when he said something that made her laugh so musically.

Perhaps Charlie’s happy demeanor seeped into him without her even needing to be next to him. The people of the radio station noticed.

“Maybe he finally got laid?” one of the newer interns asked.

“Nah, that’s not it,” everyone else said. That was a stupid, this was the Radio Demon!

Alastor reached the elevators and hit the button for floor eight. When the doors opened, Vox was inside. Alastor’s feverish thoughts of Charlie’s supple thighs were interrupted by Vox’s shit-eating grin. “Well, good morning!” Vox chirped.

“You may exit the elevator,” Alastor said. He didn’t hide his annoyance as well as he would have liked. He really let himself get lost in the thoughts of her, and he needed to focus.

“Oh, I think I’ll stay right here,” Vox said, still grinning. “Come on, pal. Floor 8?”

Alastor didn’t like his tone. Something seemed amiss, but to directly ask Vox was to admit that he was suspicious. With proper posture and a puffed chest, Alastor stepped into the elevator next to Vox. He hit the 8th floor for him, still grinning.

“How was your weekend?” Vox asked.

“Satisfactory.”

“Oh, I bet.”

Alastor didn’t like this one bit. Vox knew something, probably had to do with work, and he thought it gave him the upper hand. This was his version of gloating. Unfortunately, Alastor had known him long enough over the years to know when this was his smug mockery. The elevator reached its 8th floor and the doors opened. Alastor wasn’t a fool, he knew the reason Vox rode up with him was to take his digs in and create uncertainty.

With his best grin, Alastor turned to Vox. “Thanks.”

Vox’s grin was wide, but it had nothing on Alastor’s. “Sure,” Vox said.

The doors closed.

Alastor dropped his grin. “Great, what the fuck is wrong now?” He fast-walked to his office. Rosie was already there, the office light was on. Alastor opened the door to his office. “Rosie! Did Vox say anything to you or is he just being a fucking weirdo to me only?”

“I beg your pardon.”

Alastor froze in his spot. The one in his office was not his producer. It was the target of the majority of his show’s criticism, the city’s most talked about politician, the third richest man in New Orleans, and most of all, the father of the young woman Alastor slept with.

Lucifer Morningstar.

For once in his life, Alastor was speechless. He stared at Lucifer with big, bulged out eyes. “What the fuck,” he finally said with a sharp whisper. “Who let you in?”

Lucifer merely smirked in response. “Your friend Vox got a custodian to unlock the door so I could wait for you. It’s been awhile since we’ve met face-to-face, Radio Demon. Tell me, have you seen my daughter recently?”

~*~*~*~
Rosie was one of those people who rolled her eyes whenever she heard someone say “God, I hate Mondays.” Mondays were the first day of the work week, a chance to start out strong with good work ethic and planning. She was glad that her job as a producer didn’t require her to be in early morning traffic to be clocked in at 9am. Her “9-5” was actually 12-7, sometimes 1-7. Rosie was a bad morning person, she knew it, everyone who knew her knew that about her.

So, when Rosie received a text at 10:30 in the morning, it was the equivalent of receiving a text at 6am for her. She had a crazy weekend that involved a lot of wine, a rodeo show, and more wine. When her phone went off with a series of ding!ding!ding! Rosie grumbled and lifted her heavy head from her pillow.

“Fucks sake, mom,” she muttered.

The texts were not from her mother.

They were from Alastor. There were five red apples in a row.

Ding!

Six red apples in a row.

Rosie stared at the apple emoticons with blurry eyes. She repeatedly blinked to clear her vision and thought in her sleep-addled brain what the fuck Alastor could be talking about. Then, it hit her. Once she had to explain to him what red flags meant, because in the comment sections of one of his articles, users kept using the red flag emoji.

“You’ve never heard of someone say that expression? That they’re a walking red flag?” Rosie had asked him.

Alastor, of course, was clueless. “Not ever. So it’s a signal?”

“Yeah, it’s a warning. Red flags are bad.”

“I see.”

Despite herself, Rosie couldn’t help but smirk at her boss. He was so clueless, sometimes! Of course he’d send a red apple, question is did he do it because he couldn’t tell it was actually an apple, or was he too incompetent to scroll through the emoticon list and find the red flag icon?

“He’s such a grandpa,” Rosie muttered. She sat up in bed. Whatever problem was happening, Alastor didn’t opt to call her instead. His go-to was calling so he didn’t have to bother with texting. It was peculiar that he texted her the apples instead.

Which means he may not be able to call you at the moment, Rosie thought.

Something was off, alright. And she was going to get out of bed and investigate, after a quick latte from Starbucks.

~*~*~*~

Charlie finally understood what it meant to have her head in the clouds. She felt like she floated through the cafe during her Monday morning shift. The only thing to keep her grounded was the espresso but when the caffeine really hit her, it felt like she was gliding.

“You looked like you had fun, hon!” One of Charlie’s coworkers, Mable, told her with a smile.

“I really did,” Charlie gushed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had it this bad for someone. The taste of Alastor’s menthol breath never quite left her taste buds, jazz music played in the back of her mind on repeat, and her limbs felt like playdough from Sunday. It seemed to her that Alastor liked her, really liked her. He told her as much, both to her face and with his lips pressed against her skin.

Charlie felt dizzy. She quickly plopped herself in an empty diner chair and exhaled. This was ridiculous. Giddy joy that zipped up and down her spine. For once her thoughts weren’t about her dream project. She didn’t even think about Angel, who she hadn’t heard from or seen in nearly four days.

All Charlie thought about was the Radio Demon. The finger-sized bruises she had on her thighs from how hard he held her, the hickeys all along her collarbone and chest, and the look of pure lust in his dark, brood eyes.

She’d never tire of that predatory fixation of his. Never, ever.

“You alright?” one of the waitresses asked Charlie.

“Yes, sorry! Had to sit down, I got a bit dizzy,” she smiled. She jumped back up and made her way to a new table that sat down. “Hi, my name is Charlie and I’ll be your server for today. Can I get y’all started with anything to drink?” Charlie was so lost in her own world that when she saw who sat down at her table, she nearly fell over. She screeched but pulled it back in just the last second, resulting in a high pitched shriek. “Angel!”

“Hiya, toots.”

Charlie grabbed him from his seat and hoisted him into a hug. She didn’t notice his hoodie or dark sunglasses even indoors, she was too focused on reuniting with her best friend. “Oh, Angel! You’re gonna make me cry!”

“I’ve said two words to you.”

“I missed you!” Charlie pulled back to get a good look at him. It was then that she understood that something was wrong, that this wasn’t Angel surprising her at work. She reached up and took off his sunglasses. He had circles under his eyes almost as dark as hers. “What’s up?” she asked. “Where were you? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Are you okay?”

Angel didn’t want to talk. Instead, he leaned his taller frame down and buried his face in Charlie’s shoulder, the opposite side of her braid. “I really wanted to get fucked up,” Angel muttered. She put her hands on his shoulders and held him the best she could. She knew he’d say more, she just had to be patient. “Val worked me sixteen hours and I wanted to let loose, you know? But I couldn’t do it. I just drank myself into a black hole over the weekend.”

Charlie hugged him tighter. “It’s okay, Angel. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah? For what? Going overboard on drinking to compensate for the drugs?”

“For trying. I’m proud of you for trying, even when you don’t want to try.” Charlie guided Angel back to the seat and sat down across from him. “Do you feel like telling me what’s going on? I got a text from Vaggie saying she found you and you were safe, but she didn’t want to talk to me when I called her. She seemed pretty tired.”

Angel shrugged. “I guess so. She’s probably tired. And she’s mad at me. We had an interesting Saturday night to say the least.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. What about you? What did you do this weekend?”

Charlie couldn’t help it. She smiled. It should have been no big deal, she was Charlie Morningstar, she was born with a smile! But this smile was guilty, this smile was wicked. And if it was one person who knew when relationships got messy, it was Angel. He caught on instantly.

“No you didn’t!” he gasped.

Charlie stopped smiling. She turned red. It was all over for her.

“You did!” Angel gaped. He waved his hands back and forth as if to fan himself. “What the fuck, what the fuck, you’re so bad, what the fuck!”

“Hush, not so loud!” Charlie shrieked.

“Is he even any good in bed? Or did you have to teach him how to do stuff? Did he know where to put it?”

Charlie felt like she was on fire. She nearly fell out of her seat. “Angel!” she cried. “This isn’t about me, this is about you! For God’s sake, you were on the brink of tears like a minute ago!”

Angel shrugged. “I’ve moved onto bigger and better things, babe. What best to keep my mind off drugs than juicy gossip? I mean really, Alastor? HIM?!”

She knew better than to fight it, so she surrendered. With a smile Charlie said, “Yes, him.”

Angel sat back in his seat with his arms crossed. “You tell me about it, I’ll tell you why Vaggie is upset with me.”

“Deal,” Charlie grinned. Before she could start to speak, her phone went off. She quickly answered it without checking the caller ID, she was so distracted. “Hello?” she asked.

“Hi, hon!” Rosie chirped from the other line.

“Rosie, hi! What’s up, everything okay?”

“Um, I think you should try and come down to the studio as soon as you’re able to. Alastor and your fath–”

“YOU TACKY PIECE OF SHIT!” a voice boomed in the background.

Charlie nearly dropped her phone. “Was that my dad?!”

“Sure was,” Rosie said quickly. “I gotta go, please come down here, Alastor don’t you do it!”

Click.

Charlie looked up at Angel. “I gotta go,” she said abruptly.

Angel smirked. “Oh no toots, we gotta go. I ain’t missing this.”

~*~*~*~

Rosie didn’t have a clue what chaos awaited her when she walked into the studio with a latte in her left hand and her clipboard in her right hand. Her boss was a mixed bag; he either found the most ridiculous things to be an emergency, or he thought the building would have to be burned down to be of concern. There was no in between. If she had to guess, she would think that Alastor saw some kind of article about himself trending that he needed her to decode for him.

It didn’t take long to figure out that his “emergencies” revolved around his neurosis. The one time there was a brown recluse in the corner of the room? Overreacting, Rosie, honestly stop screaming. The fan letter that came in the mail for him with a lock of hair taped to the paper? What in the actual fuck is wrong with people holy shit.

After all, the Radio Demon completed one week of his Redemption Project and it's been a hot topic ever since. Everyone in show business knew that bad publicity was good publicity all the same. There were the skeptical comments on the blog, the users who thought that Alastor was just pandering to the Morningstar daughter to get in better graces with her father, or the users who accused Alastor of compromising his own morals for the sake of ratings.

Which was a peculiar thought, if you asked Rosie. Before Charlie Morningstar walked into the Radio Demon office, Alastor was dead set that this was a bad idea and it would never work. In all honesty, the only reason why he did this was to boost his ratings because Rosie strong-armed him into doing so. In that regard, those commenters were correct, weren’t they?

Rosie wasn’t so sure anymore. She’d seen the change in Alastor the past week. He seemed chipper, focused on the project that he so adamantly believed would fail. She’d hear him on the phone with contractors to fix the AC, plumbing, and electrical wires, arguing with them over prices and time to do it (“What do you mean it’ll take two weeks? I thought you were the best, do you not have a team?”)

And he wondered why he’d gotten a drink thrown in his face not once, but twice in his life.

The fond thoughts of her boss (who, at this point, was more like her brother) quickly dissipated when Rosie stepped foot inside the building. Unlike Alastor, she noticed when all eyes were on her. Knowing, smug eyes.

“Good morning, Rosie,” Vox greeted by the water cooler. His shit-eating grin couldn’t get any bigger.

Rosie knew then that something was wrong. Very wrong. She didn’t bother with the elevator, too many people. She bounded for the emergency stairs, Vox cackling as she did so, and she began to track up the steps. Her latte spilled on her hands so she had no choice but to stop on the second floor and guzzle it down like fresh spring water. Rosie knew the caffeine would hit her like a freight truck (“double shot of espresso, please”) she foolishly thought she’d have the chance to drink it over the entire shift. Little did she know she’d have to reconnect with her high school track days.

Rosie finished the latte in four impressive, consecutive gulps. “COME ON, ROSIE!” she cheered to herself to hype herself up. Rosie bounded up the emergency stair steps, skipping two and three steps at a time. One foot in front of the other, hustle! Rosie was by no means in bad shape, but she wasn’t exactly in her prime and Alastor’s office was on the eighth floor. She imagined that her ex-husband was chasing her up the stairs–she was on the eighth floor in no time.

Huffing and puffing, Rosie busted open the door to the stairs and ran down the hallway. She didn’t know what to expect to see on the other side of Alastor’s office. He could be in trouble, some kind of danger. It would be super fucked up of Vox to know Alastor was in physical harm and laugh anyway, but she wouldn’t put it past the freak. From the outside of the office, Rosie heard strangled grunts, like someone was under strain.

“I’m here, Alastor!” she cried. Rosie burst through the door. Her eyes widened from shock and she was too stunned to scream anything except, “What the fuck?!”

One of the side tables that Rosie had in her office was placed in the middle of the room. On one side was Alastor, on the other side, Lucifer Morningstar himself. Both were leaned over with one elbow on the table engaged in none other than–

An arm wrestling match.

“You’re lifting your elbow! You’re cheating!” Lucifer exclaimed.

“Am not!” Alastor growled.

From what Rosie could tell, the two were neck and neck, both their arms evenly in the middle between them. “What the actual fuck,” Rosie said. The two men didn’t seem to notice her presence. They were so focused on beating the other in the match. “Alastor!” Rosie nearly screamed.

His head twitched in her direction briefly before facing Lucifer once more. “Rosie, quickly, reach into my pocket and grab my handkerchief. Wipe the sweat off my face.”

“No fair!” Lucifer protested. “If she wipes yours she’s gotta wipe mine, too!”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I let you use my hand-sewn Egyptian cotton handkerchief,” Alastor growled.

Rosie rolled her eyes. She took her phone out and dialed Charlie. “Hi hon! Um, I think you should try and come down to the studio as soon as you’re able to. Alastor and your fath–”

“YOU TACKY PIECE OF SHIT!” Lucifer hollered.

Rosie saw that the two tried to swat each other with their one free hand, and Alastor had grabbed Lucifer’s hat in the process. Alastor began beating Lucifer with his own hat, using his longer limbs to their advantage. “I gotta go, please come down here, Alastor don’t you do it!” Rosie exclaimed before hanging up the phone.

The producer had done her share of roughhousing in her youth and was no stranger to manhandling, especially when it came to Alastor. She grabbed her boss by the shoulders and used all of her strength to heave him away from the table. It turned out that Rosie possessed both beauty and brawn, because Alastor was torn away from Lucifer and flung nearly across the room.

Lucifer threw both his hands above his head in victory. “I won!”

“You did not!” Alastor hissed, quickly standing straight up.

Rosie stepped between them. “Enough!” She turned to Lucifer, who was only the city’s most notable politician. Here, inside of her office, she didn’t even have the chance to clear off her desk. “Uh, hello sir,” Rosie said nervously. The latte was hitting her hard and her hands shook from both caffeine and nerves. “Can I offer you a beverage?”

When in doubt, offer a beverage.

“Apple juice if you have it,” Lucifer answered with a smile.

“Oh, we’re just gonna let him make himself comfy?” Alastor asked with a sneer.

Rosie glared at Alastor over her shoulder. “As a matter of fact, we’ve got some in the lounge room fridge. Alastor, would you be so kind as to go with me to get Lucifer’s juice?”

He stared daggers into her. “No.”

Rosie snatched Alastor by the wrist (his thin frame made it easy for her to get a solid grip) and she jerked him with her towards the door. Her quick actions were similar to a mom snatching her toddler by the hand before crossing a busy intersection. “We’ll be right there, Mr. Morningstar, please make yourself comfortable!”

“Thanks!” Lucifer said.

The door to the office slammed shut. If it weren’t for the fact that two temps walked past them in the hallway, Rosie would have beat Alastor much like he beat Lucifer, except with her fists instead of a hat. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you,” Rosie hissed under her breath. “Look at you! Acting like a teenager!”

Alastor knew she was right, even in the midst of his rage. He straightened up and adjusted his vest which had been untucked. “He started it. He came into my office and demanded to know where Charlie was, said something smart about my show, and what was I supposed to do? Just let him fire shots without some of my own? So I criticized him back, and then it was a back and forth. It turned into a fight about who was stronger, so Lucifer had the idea that we settle it with an arm wrestling match.”

Rosie blinked in utter confusion. “Well it looked to me like there was no clear winner on that one, Al.”

“Oh, I assure you, I won.”

“Sure you did.”

They reached the vending machine at the end of the hallway. The fridge in the lounge was all the way on the fourth floor and neither of them felt like taking the elevator down. Instead, Rosie got Lucifer Morningstar a purple gatorade. She figured he’d need to replenish his electrolytes after his arm wrestling match.

“Are you prepared to have a civil conversation with him?” Rosie asked as they walked back.

“If he is,” Alastor grumbled.

“One more thing, I called Charlie.”

“You did what?!”

Rosie smiled guiltily. “C’mon, don’t you want to see the father and daughter reunion?”

~*~*~*~

Thanks to Rosie’s intervention, the tension between Alastor and Lucifer went from a boil to a simmer. They glared daggers at each other from across the table. To say there was bad blood between the two was a bit of an understatement. Lucifer, like most politicians, was scrutinized in the public eye. The Radio Demon did more than scrutinize, he tore the Morningstar man apart limb by limb almost every day on his show. Not that everything Lucifer stood for Alastor was against, in fact, the irony was that they had the same ideas on a lot of topics. But Alastor didn’t like the way Lucifer said something, he didn’t think he made his point efficiently, he thought Lucifer’s choice of loafers for the debate was in poor taste.

Sure, the Radio Demon criticized other politicians in New Orleans. There were plenty of them. But this was Lucifer Morningstar, the superstar of the political world. There had been a lot of speculation over the years on why Lucifer was as popular as he was. He wasn’t by any means old, early forties and had been in the political game since his twenties, although he looked mid-thirties at most. He was short, which was a common attack used against him, but Lucifer took his short jokes with grace and even admitted to liking his height. Women in the 25-50 demographic liked Lucifer’s vulnerability and ability to accept himself, and #ShortKing trended on social media for nearly a year, making Lucifer’s popularity grow even more.

Rosie never put much thought into how or why Lucifer was as popular as he was until that afternoon. As she sat at the table with him in the office (keeping a constant eye on Alastor, of course), she saw him for who he really was:

A big fucking dork.

But what a sincere dork he was. He had a good sense of humor and a genuine smile, not to mention he wore a top hat and made it look good. It was easy to see where Charlie got her moxie from.

“Why did you decide to come here?” Rosie asked Lucifer conversationally.

“I’ve read your blog about Alastor fixing up the rehab center,” Lucifer answered. “I tried to go to the center first and see if she was there, but it was a ghost town. It made me uneasy to see the broken glass through the front window. Does Charlie go to the center by herself?”

“Of course not,” Alastor answered. “I’ve hired security for her.”

Lucifer eyed Alastor. “Huh, well I have security at my disposal that I could have there in no time flat. My guards have been working for me for years.”

“My guard is one of the best,” Alastor lied. He thought about Husk writhing on the ground nearly throwing up from the cramp in his leg. “Not only that,” Alastor continued, “I’m sure Charlie would have asked you by now if she wanted your help.”

“Oh, and you’re helping her?” Lucifer challenged. “That’s one of the funniest jokes I’ve ever heard. You don’t help people, Alastor. You say whatever you want to get whatever you want.”

Alastor grinned in response. “And what if I want to help? Hmm?”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “You don’t. How does it benefit you? Other than the obvious boost in your ratings. As soon as your show reaches its former glory you’ll just drop Charlie like a hot potato.”

A pain went through Alastor’s chest. He winced but he didn’t think that Rosie or Lucifer noticed. Just the idea of leaving Charlie made him have a physical reaction. “And what about you?” Alastor asked. “Charlie’s project has been around for sometime. You’re only interested now, when I’m involved? Why didn’t you offer a hand sooner?”

Lucifer turned a little red. His skin was the same pale white as Charlie’s, and his red flush was a stark contrast. It was impossible for him to hide his fluster, just like with his daughter. “S-she never asked me,” he muttered.

“She still hasn’t asked you, yet here you are.”

“Well, yeah! Because she’s teamed up with an absolute demon like you! I don’t know what got into my sweet Charlie, but she would never ever have anything to do with trouble like you! She wouldn’t give you the time of day!”

Whatever rebuttal Alastor had on the tip of his tongue was ruined by flashbacks of his weekend with the Morningstar young woman. Her thighs clamped around his head while he ate her out, the way her nails scratched down his back while he fucked her, and the daze in her eyes when she woke up Sunday morning.

Oh, Lucifer had no idea that Charlie would, in fact, give Alastor the time of day.

Right on cue, there was a quick knock at the door before it swung open. Charlie practically charged inside with Angel close behind her. She saw Lucifer for the first time in nearly two years. “D-dad!”

Lucifer stood up from his seat and scurried out from the desk. “Charlie!”

He enveloped his daughter in a big hug. She was taller than him by a good four inches, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t strong as he pulled her into a bear hug. “Dad, I can’t breathe!”

“You take my breath away, too!” Lucifer laughed. He let Charlie go and looked at Angel. “You must be Vaggie!”

Angel did his best to keep a straight face. “No dad,” Charlie said with a nervous smile. “This is Angel.”

Lucifer put his hand out. “Nice to meet you!”

Angel shook his hands. “Back at ya, short king.”

“Dad,” Charlie began, “What’s this all about? When Rosie called it sounded like you were upset.” Her eyes darted to Alastor across the room. He met her gaze instantaneously. “Hi Al, hi Rosie,” Charlie greeted.

Lucifer didn’t notice the look between Charlie and Alastor.

Rosie did.

“I heard that you were working with him on your project,” Lucifer said. “And I tried calling you and you hung up on me. Is there any way we can talk in private? I just don’t think teaming up with the Radio Demon is the best idea.”

Charlie didn’t expect him to say it. She didn’t know what to expect from her father, but his input in her work wasn’t it. “Dad, don’t be silly. Alastor has been nothing but helpful! Him and Rosie both!”

Lucifer made a face. “Charlie, sweetie, you are nothing but sweet, innocent, and nice–”

“Sin,” Angel said. No one got his joke.

“And you’re teaming up with a man who’s notoriously selfish and has never lifted a finger to help this city,” Lucifer finished. “Why don’t you let me help you instead?”

Charlie was in disbelief. Her father went from not speaking to her for months at a time to suddenly offering his assistance? “Y-you don’t believe in my program!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Well not exactly, but I don’t have to believe in it to help you! I can give you security for the building and you can fire whoever the fool Alastor brought in,” Lucifer said.

“Whoa now, let’s not get crazy,” Angel said.

“Nothing has changed!” Charlie cried. She brought her hands up in the air. “You still don’t believe in my project! You don’t think people can change their ways!”

Lucifer stopped smiling. His expression turned serious. “Everything you’re trying to do I’ve tried before, Charlie. It’s not going to work out the way you want it to.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Charlie said. She stomped out of the office in an angry exit. For a moment, everyone remained in the studio, unsure of what to do or say.

Then, Alastor stood up from his seat and followed after Charlie. “Hey, we’ve got notes to go over before our show!” Rosie said.

“We’re running re-runs today,” Alastor said briskly.

“Where are you going?”

“After Charlie. And after that, probably the center to do some more work.” Alastor was out the door and gone.

Lucifer sighed and shook his head. “This isn’t over,” he muttered.

~*~*~*~

He caught the elevator before it shut. Charlie didn’t look at him, instead she eyed the floor. She wrapped her arms around her torso and slumped against the elevator wall. Alastor wordlessly stood beside her as the elevator doors closed. He let it go one floor down before he hit the emergency button and stopped the elevator dead in its tracks.

Charlie looked at him with big, confused eyes. Alastor merely shrugged, “I think you need a moment to compose yourself.”

She gave him a ghost of a smile. “You can see why I get so defensive,” she said in a low voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Saturday night, when we were discussing my program. I get defensive because I’m so used to hearing criticism from my dad.”

Alastor didn’t know what to say. Lucifer said the same things he’s said to her, didn’t he? They both didn’t think the program would work, they both didn’t think people could change, and they both offered to help her anyway.

“Well… with your dad it seems personal,” Alastor noted. “Whereas with me, it’s cynical. He’s right about me, you know. I’ve got a bad reputation, Charlie. Maybe teaming up with the Radio Demon will hurt you in the long run, not help you.”

She looked more hurt after he said so than before. “You don’t want to work with me?” she asked.

“Fuck, no,” Alastor hissed. He couldn’t stand the hurt expression on her face. “I’m not trying to get out, I’m trying to give you the out. In case you don’t want to work with me. I’d understand.”

Charlie shook her head. “You’re part of the team now, Al.”

He couldn’t stand it. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a kiss. She met his lips with shared fervor and they tasted each other after spending the entire day apart. She was his new fixation, his replacement for cigarettes. Charlie was a hit of dopamine.

Alastor knew that they couldn’t stay in the elevator long without bringing unwanted attention to themselves. The idea of fucking her in an elevator crossed his mind and he bit the inside of his lip so the pain could distract him from the idea. You’re such a horny teenager, Al!

Charlie seemed to be in better spirits after their kiss. “I think you should go back and do your show,” she said.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to do my show. I want to go with you to the center.”

Charlie smiled and hugged him. Her face curled into his chest and she squeezed him tightly around his waist. “You can see me after your show, Al. Please, don’t sacrifice your show on my account. I’ll be alright.”

It won’t be long before you go to hell and back for her, if that’s what she asked you to do, Alastor thought to himself.

Despite this, he hugged her back and gave her a squeeze of his own. So many years of no touch, and suddenly, he can’t get enough of Charlie’s embrace. “Fine,” he relented. “Just try not to get into any trouble, and don’t you dare go in there if Husk isn’t with you. I should be over there by 6:30.”

Charlie stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his chin. “Deal. By the way, what was happening in the background when Rosie called me? It sounded like you were fighting with dad?”

Alastor nearly stopped smiling. Suddenly, he didn’t know how to explain to Charlie that her father brought out the worst, pettiest side of him and the two engaged in an arm wrestling match to determine who was stronger.

“I think your dad saw a spider,” Alastor muttered.

“Oh,” Charlie laughed. “Yeah, he’s scared of spiders!”

Notes:

And there we have it! I didn't think I'd have this chapter done but thank heck I'm still on schedule lol. There was a lot of banter and I feel like this was a set-up chapter for a lot more to resolve in other chapters. I thought about tying off some ends in this chapter, but I felt like this was a solid place to stop. In regards to Cherri, this is my take on how she seemed in the show where she's more concerned with Angel's wants and needs and trying to be a good friend to him, versus caring about what he really needs which is to get clean, etc. I don't at all find Cherri to be a bad guy, she just cares about Angel to a fault. I also didn't think that I'd put Lucifer in this story AT ALL yet here he is! I didn't think I could write him effectively, but after re-watching his Hazbin episodes, I felt like I could truly capture his dorky nature lol

Thanks so much for reading, I truly appreciate y'all!

Chapter 8

Summary:

The show must go on for Alastor. Charlie has to deal with her own drama.

Husk was a gambling man. That was the most innocent way to say that he had a gambling addiction, but that was beside the point if you asked him. He was trying to quit, which is why his drinking was turned up a notch (or three). It was easier to gamble if you didn’t have any money. “Just hold out until you can collect your social security,” Husk would tell himself to try and scratch the itch. It never did. The only thing that came close was alcohol, because Husk didn’t believe in drinking and gambling. Therefore, if he always had beer nearby, the desire to gamble would take a back seat.

His wallet would thank him for it. His liver, not so much.

Husk needed a clear mind when he gambled. He took it very seriously. He watched everyone and everything, took in every detail, filed it away in the catalog of his mind. The young guy in his twenties tried to hide a smile when he reached for a new card in poker–he’s got a good hand. The woman keeps eyeing the deck and then her hand–she’s one card away from winning. Sunglasses with finger tattoos just slouched back in his seat–he’s feeling confident enough to relax.

He was good at reading people and the room. However, there were times when he was dead wrong, and that cost him money. A lot of money. So much money that he had to reach out to his old acquaintance, the only man he knew who had the money to bail him out and wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Alastor.

Husk still remembered that day like it was yesterday. It sat like a fifty pound weight on his shoulders that he carried around every day until he drank, then it was thirty pounds, twenty, ten, etc. The weight of his mistake was always heaviest when he first woke up in the morning. Some days, it was so heavy that he couldn’t get out of bed.

It was the feeling of being so behind, in so much crippling debt, and yet he couldn’t stop. He was a man possessed; he had to hit it big at the table. He was too big to fail. He got sloppy and stopped reading the cues, he was too laser focused on winning. Fueled by the panic that he was really fucked and too blinded to see that he was well past that point.

The money that Alastor paid off for Husk was by no means a small amount. He did so without hesitation, apparently he had the money in his bank account ready to go. Alastor didn’t question Husk that night. He didn’t berate him, mock him, he didn’t even have disappointment in his eyes. Husk couldn’t meet his eyes, anyway. He was too ashamed of himself.

“I uh, I owe ya,” Husk muttered.

Alastor shrugged. “I’m sure the day will come when I need you, Husker. You’ll pay your debt to me some way or another.”

The way he said it sounded ominous in a way that nearly gave the older man goosebumps. “Right,” he said. What else could he say? He had no right to disagree.

There were no thank-yous or goodnights exchanged. Alastor left as swiftly as he entered and was gone. Husk was left alone to feel the full weight of his shame.

Years later, he still felt it.

When he woke up that Monday morning, he felt it.

However, there was something that woke up inside of Husk along with the shame, and it didn’t weight nearly as heavy on his shoulders:

Conviction.

He was good at reading people. That skill never dulled, it just took a backseat to drinking. Husk read that spindly fellow the night at the club. Peter? No, something weird. Pentious, that was it. He was practically a kid, even if he was in his twenties. He was twitchy, nervous. When Husk had him in a headlock, he also happened to get his phone info copied into his tracker app.

Sure, there was shame when he woke up that Monday. But instead of drinking his morning beer, Husk got up and got dressed so he could get a head start on tracking that punk’s whereabouts. That little prick was going to pay for the brick he threw.

Husk would make sure of it.

~*~*~*~

It felt like an eternity since Charlie walked into the rehab center. She realized this as she walked up to the front door that when she left the center with Alastor Saturday night, she hadn’t returned all of Sunday, and here it was 3:00 on Monday afternoon. Charlie thought about that delirious Saturday evening when she thought she’d just “stop by really quick” to get on her laptop. Never mind she ended up taking a ride on the Alastor train.

“Jesus, Charlie,” she chided to herself.

Focus, she had to focus. The reason why Alastor was in the shower to begin with was because of paint, right? He said he got paint all over himself. Charlie knew it wasn’t inside the building, they had painted all the walls on Saturday afternoon.

She ran away from the front door and down to the side of the building. All of the graffiti was gone. Alastor painted over everything and the building was a nice cream color. Charlie stopped and stared with a big, goofy grin on her face. He did that for her. He painted the entire side of the building, just for her!

Charlie inspected closer at the paint set up that Alastor had left. She saw the culprit paint bucket that had spilled on him from the ladder, as well as the paint footprints that suspiciously matched his shoe size leading to the building. Something else caught Charlie’s gaze–a small notebook that was upside down and left on the ladder steps. She walked over to it and picked it up. The paint miraculously missed it, probably because it hit Alastor first. She inspected the pocket-sized notebook and saw Alastor’s scribbled handwriting:

Get the AC looked at

Get the plumbing looked at

Get more paint

Even Alastor’s hastily scribbled writing was nice and proper compared to hers. Charlie stared at the notebook in a stupor. She knew he cared about helping her, but she didn’t expect him to take such a lead in everything. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like everything was on her to figure out.

“I didn’t know you were so sweet,” Charlie said, still smiling.

She knew that she couldn’t linger and she had to get a move on. Vaggie was on shift next door at the hospital and agreed to take her fifteen minutes at the center so they could chat. Charlie walked back to the front door right as Vaggie walked down the sidewalk from the hospital’s direction. “What were you doing?” Vaggie asked.

“Looking at the side of the building, the graffiti is gone!” Charlie beamed.

“Is it?”

“Yeah! Alastor painted it!”

Vaggie raised an eyebrow. “When did he do that?”

“After we left on Saturday. He did it to surprise me.”

“Uh-huh.” Vaggie was not nearly as enthusiastic as Charlie. The door to the rehab center opened and the two women stepped inside. “Shouldn’t Husk be here?”

“He texted me and said he’d be a little late. I promised him I wouldn’t go in by myself, and it’s true, I’m with you.”

Vaggie smirked. “You know he won’t like it.”

“It’ll be fine.” Charlie turned on the front room lights. “So, you’re not too happy with Angel, huh?”

Vaggie crossed her arms. “We’re just not speaking at the moment.”

“How come?”

“Well, that’s kind of a long story. I, uh, went looking for him on Saturday night after we got done painting.”

“Oh, did you?”

Charlie Morningstar had many strengths. Punctual, thoughtful, always positive, always striving to do better. But she had many weaknesses, too, and one of her most glaring weaknesses was her inability to be subtle.

Vaggie knew where this was going. “He’s here, isn’t he?” she asked.

“Damn, she’s good,” Angel said. He stood up from his hiding spot under the front reception desk. “Hey, doll,” Angel greeted Vaggie.

Charlie made a shocked face. “H-how did you know?! I was being super duper subtle!”

“No you weren’t,” Vaggie and Angel said at once. They looked at each other, then Charlie, then the opposite direction of each other.

“What exactly was the plan, huh? Waiting for me to shit talk Angel and then he’d come up and ‘gotcha!’ me?” Vaggie muttered. She didn’t seem upset, just annoyed.

“Come on Vaggie, I’d never set you up like that,” Charlie said. “I just wanted you two to work it out! Angel told me everything.”

Vaggie narrowed her one eye that wasn’t covered by her hair. “Oh really? He told you about Cherri taking him to Consent?”

Charlie nodded. “Yes, the watermel–”

“YES, that’s not the point! Did he tell you about Husk getting into a fist fight with Valentino? And about how Valentino swore to do everything in his power to destroy this place? We’re probably not safe in here, Charlie, even if Husk is here. If Valentino has a bunch of goons at his disposal, which he does, then we’re fucked.”

Vaggie cared, too. It wasn’t just Alastor. She’d been there since the beginning. Charlie knew this, and she swallowed spit to ease the dryness of her throat. “My dad came to see me today,” she said. Vaggie’s armor was chipped at the proclamation and her shoulders slumped. “He offered to bring in security,” Charlie continued. “I said no, but… I don’t know… it would be smart. Valentino may target us now, but if he targeted Lucifer Morningstar…”

Angel and Vaggie eyed each other. “I don’t think Val would be that desperate to take on the short king,” Angel said.

“But do you want your dad involved?” Vaggie asked. “You’ve been so adamant about the exact opposite!”

“I know,” Charlie said. “Look, what I really want is for you two to get along. I want to feel like I have my team again. We missed you on Saturday, Angel. Really. I know you’ve got work and you’re in a complicated situation with Val, but whatever happens to you, you can tell us. You know that, right?”

Angel sighed. “I know.” He walked around the counter and held his arms out to Vaggie. “C’mon toots, give me a squeeze.”

Vaggie couldn’t resist one last eye roll before she hugged Angel. She had to give it to the spindly son-of-a-bitch, he gave good hugs. Charlie couldn’t stand it when people hugged without including her, so of course she had to join in. “I’m so glad we ambushed you!” she gushed to Vaggie.

They pulled away.

“Listen Char, I’ve been thinking about this since Saturday night when everything went haywire,” Vaggie said. She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You have to quit your bartending job.” Charlie made a face. Before the protests could even form, Vaggie beat her to it. “You know Val has eyes and ears everywhere, especially in bars! And the last time Angel pulled a stunt he came to your place of work and hit you! It would be incredibly stupid to keep your job knowing that Valentino owns the night life.”

Charlie’s bottom lip quivered. Angel and Vaggie mentally braced for the water works. Charlie’s “let it out” sessions could last as little as ten minutes and as long as four hours, but the latter only happened when an animal died in a movie. However, the young woman proved to be more adaptable than her friends thought. She bit her bottom lip and nodded in agreement. “I get it.”

Angel and Vaggie looked at each other to make sure they both saw the same thing. “Wait, what,” Angel said.

“I get it!” Charlie repeated. “B-but just know that my manager really relied on me and told me that I was a valued member of the team.”

“She calls you Chastity,” Angel said.

Charlie couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah, she’s kind of a bitch. Okay, I’ll quit. This place is very close to getting up to code, I’ll just work harder here and worry about a second job later!”

“That’s the spirit,” Vaggie smiled. “One more thing, why are there footprints leading up to the do–”

“Princess!” a new voice from outside boomed. It was Husk.

Charlie made a face. “He sounds pissed.”

“Yeah, like the only thing he told you not to do you did anyway,” Angel commented. “Let’s go say hey.” He sauntered out the door and the two women followed closely behind. “Well hey, sweet tha–aaaayyyng!” Angel hissed.

Husk, as it turned out, was not alone. There was a tall young man next to him who was handcuffed and hunched over next to Husk, who looked scared out of his mind.

“Pentious?!” Angel asked.

“The kid who simped for Cherri?” Vaggie asked.

“Who?!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Yes to all of those things,” Husk confirmed. He patted Pentious on the back and pulled his shoulders back so he’d stand up straight. “This young perp was the one who threw the brick at your window, princess,” Husk explained. “And now, he has something to tell you, don’t you?”

Pentious was a bright pink. He looked at the ground in what appeared to be embarrassment. “Ehm, it was a misssundersssstan–”

“Don’t you dare,” Husk snapped.

Pentious made a face. He sighed and dared to look at Charlie. “I’m ssssssorry,” he said.

“Don’t care,” Angel and Vaggie said at the same time.

“Cool,” Pentious said. He turned to Husk. “Can I go home now?”

Husk laughed. It was strange to see him do so, given that he usually wore a deep-set frown. “Do you think I went through all this trouble just so you could apologize to Charlie?” he asked between laughs.

“Um, yesssss?” Pentious replied, unsure.

“Well, you’re wrong. You’re gonna help pick up the place, you little punk ass. Start by washing my car, the hose is around the back.”

“B-but my hands are still cuffed!” Pentious cried.

“You can hold a hose with handcuffed hands.”

“Hang on, how does Pentious washing your car help our project?” Vaggie questioned.

Husk shrugged. “It’ll put me in a good mood to know my car is clean. C’mon, let’s go. Charlie, I’ll have a word with you later about the concept of waiting on me to arrive, huh?”

Charlie didn’t expect the heat to get turned up on her. “Y-yes sir,” she muttered. Funny how she just saw her father earlier, yet now she felt like she was disciplined.

~*~*~*~

“And that, sinners, is why I don’t think the new bill for the city’s bridge is going to be effective. Disagree with me? I’m sure Vox would bring you on as a caller. Haha! I jest, of course. Thank you for tuning in on this fine Monday, I’ll be back at the same time tomorrow. This is your ever-dandy Radio Demon signing off.”

The on-air button went off.

Alastor took off his headphones and set them on the desk in front of him. He lit a cigarette and had his first drag in record time. “Not bad given how little we prepared,” he said to himself. It wasn’t often that Alastor found himself having to fly by the seat of his pants, but he thought he did a fine job. There was a good bit of excitement going on in the city and around the country, he had a lot of topics to choose from and went from there. He never spoke about the project and the callers never asked. He also resisted bringing up Lucifer, who had a big press conference with five of the other politicians at the City Hall.

The fact that Alastor didn’t bring up Lucifer Morningstar bothered him. He should have brought him up, he knew it. His listeners expected him to bring it up. One caller towards the latter half of the show even asked him if he’d seen the conference.

“I’m afraid I had a bad stomach bug this past weekend, I’ll have to watch it in full to give you my complete take away,” Alastor had answered.

It didn’t matter that the Morningstar man himself had been in his office. Thanks to Vox, who thought he was so fucking clever. It was the Morningstar daughter who made Alastor pull his punches. He knew that pursuing…whatever it was they had… would complicate things. A lot. He didn’t think about how her father, the Radio Demon’s punching bag, would implicate him until he saw them together in his office.

He took another long drag off his cigarette and watched the smoke evaporate into the air in front of him as he exhaled. He made his career off his witty commentary and his ability to tear people apart limb from limb. It just so happened that Lucifer Morningstar was his victim more often than not, given his insane popularity. Alastor never thought that he’d end up smitten with Lucifer’s own daughter for fuck’s sake. But now he was, and he knew that if he dug in with claws that it would hurt Charlie.

Didn’t she already know before all this mess happened? Why stop now?

You know why.

Alastor put his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand that wasn’t holding the cigarette. He knew he’d have to reflect on his actions eventually, he just didn’t think Lucifer’s presence would jumpstart the notion. How the fuck was he supposed to have a romance with Charlie when he made a career out of targeting her father? Alastor didn’t see Christmas with the Morningstar family going well…

Already thinking about Christmas with Charlie? Easy there, tiger!

He took another hit of nicotine. There were other politicians to bully, surely. Adam Evans was running against Lucifer, wasn’t he? And there were other major figures in New Orleans.

But Lucifer Morningstar is your hot topic that everyone is invested in, and if you drop him, your ratings will drop even faster. All for what, a woman you’ve known less than two weeks?! Wasn’t the reason you agreed to bring her on your show in the first place because of the ratings to begin with?!

“Fuck,” Alastor muttered.

“You okay, boss?” Rosie asked. She was finally out of her office and had shut the door behind her.

“Fine.”

“Deep in thought?”

“Something like that.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just stuff, Rosie. Dumb stuff.”

“Will you tell Charlie I said hi?”

“Sure.” Alastor snapped out of his daze. He sat up in his seat and swiveled his chair to face Rosie, who smirked at him. This was what it was like to be caught red-handed. There were very few times in his life where he was the prey with the red dot dead center on his forehead; he was usually the predator, the one holding the gun.

“Gotcha,” Rosie grinned.

“You don’t have anything,” Alastor growled. “You should go home, you did good today.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me, boss?”

“I just need some time to think.”

Rosie put her hands on her hips. She’d been in a weird mood ever since Lucifer left the office, but Alastor didn’t have much time to think about it before she disappeared into her office for the show. “Look, I want to know what exactly is going on between you and that sweet girl. Because I think I know the answer, and I don’t like it, Alastor.”

He didn’t expect her to confront him so directly, but then again, this was Rosie. “Nothing is going on,” he said dismissively.

“Bullshit. I saw the look she gave you earlier. And I saw the look you gave her in return. In all of the years I’ve known you, and the hundreds and thousands of hours we’ve spent together, I’ve never seen you look at someone like that before.”

He felt the flush creep up his neck that was bound to give him away. “Th-there was something in my eye, I was trying to blink it away.”

“Alastor!”

He snarled one side of his upper lip, revealing his front fang. “Fine! Fine! What do you want me to tell you?”

“The truth.”

“The truth is I can’t get enough of her! There! Happy? She’s been like a goddamn drug from the day she stepped into my office and she’s turned me into a desperate addict. I can’t… I don’t… I didn’t plan this, okay?” Alastor laughed despite himself and ran his hands through his hair. He felt like he’d gone crazy just by listening to himself speak about it, yet he couldn’t stop. The floodgates opened and there was no closing them. He'd gone absolutely manic. “And I know I’m an asshole, okay? I know she’s too good for me, and I shouldn’t have given into temptation, and this will probably end up hurting more than helping, but… fuck… I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but indulge, Rosie, and I know that makes me the fucking bad guy, I know it. Just when I thought that it was manageable, that it could work, her father shows up. I don’t think he’s leaving anytime soon, do you? Of course not!”

Rosie stared at him, unsure of what to say. Her icy exterior seemed to have melted, just a little bit. She’d never seen Alastor lay himself so bare before her before. Sure, over the years together they’d shared personal sentiments (her divorce, his mother’s death) but it was always past events, it was never issues that happened to them in the here and now. Rosie didn’t know what to say, so she said what her heart told her, not her head. “Oh, Al,” she said. “This is worse than I thought. You’ve got it bad for her.”

He turned his chair away so he didn’t have to face her. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m telling the truth!”

“Well how the fuck is that supposed to help me? I think I know that, Rosie.”

Rosie walked over to his desk and leaned against it, arms loosely crossed. This way she was next to him instead of across the room to interrogate him. He lingered in his spot, hunched forward in his chair, and an unlit cigarette was between his long fingers. Rosie couldn’t remember the last time she saw her boss this distressed. It tugged at her heart. She loved Alastor, he was family. “Look,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m not trying to beat you up over this, I just wanted the truth.”

“Well, now you have it, congratulations.” His tone was bitter.

“Do you really think you’re such an irredeemable asshole, Al? Do you think if you were that bad of a guy that Charlie would have gone for you?” Rosie asked. He peeked up at her through his messed up bangs. Rosie continued, “Isn’t this a two-way street? She agreed to pursue this with you, too. She’s not stupid. Naïve, a bit, but not stupid. She obviously sees more in you than just a, what was it you said, fucking asshole. Don’t you think so?”

Alastor seemed to stew on her words. “Maybe,” he finally admitted.

Rosie chuckled. “I didn’t think the day would ever come, Alastor. Are you seeing her tonight?”

He jumped in his seat, his sudden actions making her jump a little. Alastor checked his wristwatch. “Shit! It’s almost 6:30 and I’m not over at the center. I don’t want her waiting around for me, I’ve still got a lot to go over for the shows.”

“Why not just text her and tell her you won’t make it?”

He made a face. “No, I don’t think so.”

Rosie leaned in closer to him, eyeing him harshly. “Al,” she said through gritted teeth. “Whether you like it or not, you can’t just think about yourself. You’ve got someone who’s waiting on you, it’s the courteous thing to do to text her.”

Alastor knew a losing battle when he saw one. “Fine,” he growled. “You act like this is such a huge deal.”

“Trust me, it’s a huge deal.” Rosie watched as Alastor flipped up his phone and began to type out his message. His eyes squinted at the screen as he slowly tapped away at his keyboard. Rosie waited fifteen seconds and then snatched his phone from her.

“Hey!”

“Done.”

Rosie handed Alastor back his dinosaur. He saw that her text to Charlie (posing as him) said:

Hey, can’t make it to the center, too much work. Dinner instead? ;)

“R-Rosie!” Alastor nearly screeched. He was embarrassed. “I-you-I-she! You invited her to dinner?!”

“Well yeah!” Rosie exclaimed. “Are you or are you not a gentleman? You’ve got to take her on a proper date! I’m not sure how far this crush of yours has progressed, but it’s not too late to wine and dine her.” He sat in his seat, beet red. Rosie eyed him suspiciously. “Exactly how far has this tryst gone?” she asked. “Have y’all kissed?”

Alastor grinned. It was his Radio Demon grin.

“Okay!” Rosie cried, stepping away from him. She threw her hands up in the air. “I shouldn’t have asked! I shouldn’t have opened Pandora’s Box, that’s on me!”

Alastor checked his phone. “She replied! She said she’s on her way back to her apartment and wants to know if I’ll meet her there.”

“Well, tell her yes!”

“Fine, yes. Y-E-S. What was that weird symbol you put at the end of my first text?”

“A wink emoji.”

“Hmm.” Alastor stood up from his seat. “I’ve gotta get home if I’m going to meet her soon. Where should I take her?”

Rosie couldn’t help but smile. “Jeez, Alastor, it’s not hard. Just take her out somewhere nice and fun! And have her home at a decent hour.”

“Right, yes.”

“And Alastor?”

“Yes?”

Rosie couldn’t believe that Alastor was smitten this bad with a woman. She would have never put it on her bingo card, that was for damn sure. “Have you ever… you know… do you know what you’re doing? You’re being sweet to her? Have you ever even said I love you to a woman who wasn’t your mother?”

Alastor seemed to have regained his footing from his pitfall earlier. He knew that Rosie had his best interest, both for the Radio Demon and his personal life. “I love you, Rosie,” was all Alastor said.

It was her turn to flush. He caught her off guard with that sentiment. “Very funny,” Rosie said. She headed for the door. “Call me if anything goes wrong. Don’t stay out too late. Be sure to open doors for her. Laugh at her jokes even if they're not funny. Loveyoutoo.”

Slam!

And just like that, it was Alastor all alone in his office. He figured he had time for one more cigarette.

~*~*~*~

Lucifer sat in the spacious backseat of his personal car. His driver waited patiently in the after work rush hour. That was fine with Lucifer, he wasn’t in any hurry. He looked out the window and watched the sun go down on his city. As much as he hated New Orleans some days, as much as it drove him absolutely crazy, he still knew deep down that he loved the city. It would never leave him. No matter where he was in the world, his heart would always be in this city.

His daughter seemed to share the same sentiment. Lucifer smiled to himself. Charlie was so grown when he saw her earlier that day. She was truly the spitting image of Lilith. Lucifer caught himself thinking such thoughts and leaned back in the seat, tearing his eyes away from the window. “Don’t start going down that path,” he told himself. His estranged wife was not a topic he wanted to think about, not today, not ever. It took awhile for him to be able to look at his wedding band without the crippling sadness clenching him.

Of course, the sadness was still there. It never left, oh no, never completely. But it was a dull ache, thanks to pills that he had to take twice a day and distracting, beneficial thoughts, as his therapist put it.

Charlie was a beneficial thought. Always!

Well, except for the fact that she got upset with him. And stormed out of the radio station. And didn’t answer his calls. And probably hated his guts. And why shouldn’t she? He didn’t believe in her passion project and that made him a “bad dad” in her book. What was Lucifer doing lately that proved he was a good dad, exactly?

Never mind that he had his reasons for not supporting her project. Never mind that he’d done the exact same thing she’d done twenty years earlier. Was that old bastard Zestial still in charge of the medical board? The one who made the executive decision to shut down Lucifer’s rehabilitation program because it couldn’t get enough funds. Everyone followed his lead, they didn’t care about the good the program was doing.

Charity meant nothing to them! Never mind that Lucifer tried to advocate for the people of the city more times than he could count over the span of his career. It never ended well. People didn’t want to help other people, they only wanted to help themselves.

How long would it take for Charlie to see the truth? How many rejections would she have to face before she understood that people just didn’t care?

He thought about his daughter, upset and crying.

Lucifer felt like he couldn’t sit in his seat any longer. He unbuckled his seat belt and moved to the opposite side of the backseat, then to his original spot, then settled himself in the middle. “I need you to change destinations!” he announced loudly.

His driver turned his head towards him. “You don’t wanna go to the park?”

“No, not today. The ducks will have to feed themselves. I’d like you to take me to Charlie’s place. I think she lives with her roommate, Angel. My assistant should have the address.”

“Whatever you’d like, sir. Please put on your seatbelt.”

Lucifer did as he was told. Safety first, after all.

~*~*~*~

Charlie didn’t think much of Alastor’s text, although she did wonder why he put the wink emoji and if he fully grasped what that meant. She didn’t mean for Angel to find out about Alastor, but now that the truth was out, she felt a bit relieved.

“Alastor texted me. He wants to take me out tonight,” she said conversationally from the passenger seat. Angel was driving them home where he’d drop her off and then go have a script reading with some cast members (no Val involvement, thankfully).

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you two never made it out of the apartment,” Angel replied.

“Angel!” Charlie squeaked.

“What? I can see it now. You’ll be like ‘hee hee want to sit down?’ and he’ll be like ‘sure’ and then you’ll complain how tired you are and he’ll offer to give you a massage, and suddenly the massage isn’t so innocent, and the next thing I know, there’s a brand new stain on my couch when I get home tonight.”

Charlie smacked Angel in the arm and he laughed. “Y-you watch too much porn!”

“No, babe, I star in too much porn. Help me Radio Demon, I’m stuck!”

“Stoooooop!” They laughed for the next two lights. Charlie recovered first and nearly wiped tears from the corner of her eyes. “I’m glad you figured it out,” she said. “I can finally talk to someone about it all. I don’t know where it’s going between us, it all happened so fast.”

Angel enjoyed it when he was the one giving relationship advice. He spent his entire adolescence listening to podcasts, following love gurus, and watching shows specifically for drama. He loved it. It was a guilty pleasure that he indulged in daily. “Where do you want it to go?” he asked.

“Uh, I mean, hopefully it goes well.”

“No babe, like do you want him to be your boyfriend?”

“Oh, yes! I’d love that!”

Angel was glad that Charlie looked forward and not at him, that way she couldn’t see his small grimace. Alastor the Radio Demon as her boyfriend. That was… well… interesting was one word. “And what would you say you are right now to him?” he asked.

Charlie thought about it. “Well, we’re business partners. I guess we need to figure out if we’re dating or if we’re already boyfriend/girlfriend.”

“You’re lovers at least.”

“D-don’t say it like that!”

“What, it’s true! Alastor is your lover.”

“Oh my God…”

“It’s very respectable, Charlie. Better than fuck-buddy, side-piece, booty call, hook up–”

“Okay I get it, yeah, lover. He’s my lover.” Charlie couldn’t help but giggle when she said it herself. She felt like she was in high school again when she was with Angel. Sometimes that was a bad thing, like when they both had not-so-great ideas and then Vaggie had to bail them out. But most of the time, it felt like it did in the car; both of them talking, laughing, and sharing. Charlie knew it couldn’t always be this carefree because they had their lives to deal with. Angel with his contract with Valentino, a problem that wasn’t going away any time soon, and Charlie with her mess. But in the car, in that moment, none of that mattered. It was exactly what she needed.

“So, if ol Radio Demon asked you if you’d be his sweet-thang, would you accept?” Angel asked.

“Of course!”

“You barely know him!”

“Isn’t that the point of dating, to find out more about each other?”

“For fucks sake. Yeah? I guess. You really fall hard when you fall for someone, you know that?”

Charlie made a face. “I’m aware.” She fell hard and then when they broke her heart she was a wreck for at least three months. Seviathan, her senior year/first year of college ex, lasted the longest. She cried over him for the entire year she was twenty-one.

“Alright toots, last question. If this fairytale goes the way you want it: Alastor asks you to be his girlfriend, you accept… does that mean you’ll go public with it? You’ll have to tell Vaggie and your dad.”

Charlie’s heart sank. “Oh shit, you’re right. Oh fuck, Vaggie will have a meltdown.”

“What about your dad? Alastor is his nemesis!”

“He’ll be fine. I’m more worried about Vaggie.” Angel didn’t agree with this statement. He found Lucifer’s reaction to be much more volatile. The discussion was over because he pulled up to the apartment. It was 7:00 sharp. Charlie looked at Angel. “Thanks for the ride and thanks for listening. Text me, okay? Keep me updated.”

Angel grinned. “You keep me updated too, babe. Let me know what outfit you wear. Y’know, if you even have a chance to put an outfit on.”

“Angel!”

“At least make sure you wear a good pair of lingerie, you can impress him then.”

Charlie opened the car door and was thankful for the outside air to hit her flushed face. “Goodbye!” she proclaimed.

“Later, toots.”

Charlie stood on the apartment steps and watched Angel drive off. She felt like she had a lot to think about, but she also felt like she could do this. Whatever “this” was between herself and Alastor, she felt like she could do it. She was never one who hooked up with random people just for the satisfaction of sex. Sure, in her younger days she was known to get drunk and have trysts, but the people she slept with did genuinely like, it just turned out that they didn’t like her as much as she liked them. That was her pattern. She always liked them more than they liked her. She was the romantic, the one falling head-over-heels, the one who wore her heart on her sleeve.

With Alastor, it didn’t seem like much had changed. He was the reserved one. Charlie did worry that history was repeating itself yet again, and Alastor’s interest in her would wane. Just like Seviathan’s. How much could Alastor really like about her, anyway? He didn’t really know her, right?

She thought about the first night they spent together. Not when they slept together, but when Alastor rescued her from Valentino’s assault and took her to his home. The way he held the frozen strawberries against her swollen eye. The expression of care on his face. He barely knew her, and yet, he was willing to do anything to make her comfortable.

Charlie smiled to herself. “Oh, Al.”

She went inside the apartment.

~*~*~*~

Alastor found the apartment with relative ease when she texted him the address. Not because he clicked the link and used Google Maps, heavens no, but because he had lived in the city his whole life and recognized the street name. Alastor parked one block over because he wasn’t sure which spot was reserved for residents. He didn’t think about where Charlie might have lived, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she stayed in a cardboard box to save money for her project. The apartments seemed fine from the outside, nothing fancy like the ones he lived in, but then again, his budget was much larger than hers.

He crossed the street and walked up the steps leading to apartment K34. Alastor wished that he bought flowers for Charlie, that would have given him some gentleman points, surely. Rosie had him thinking that he needed to be on his best behavior, and he was more than ready to show Charlotte Morningstar the romantic side of himself.

Nevermind that you’ve never actually romanced anyone in your life.

How hard was it? He’d seen the chick flicks that Rosie would put on in the background before their shows.

“Except this isn’t a chick flick, this is your fucking life,” Alastor said to himself. He took a deep breath and knocked on Charlie’s front door before he lost his nerve.

“It’s open!” Charlie exclaimed from the other side of the door.

“Haven’t I already gotten onto you about locking your doors?” Alastor asked, fully aware that she couldn’t hear him. He opened the door and saw her apartment for the first time. Truthfully, it was the first time he’d set foot inside someone else’s house in a long, long time (not counting Rosie). It felt strange to be the visitor for once instead of the host.

The house wasn’t just Charlie’s, he knew she shared it with Angel. The apartment itself wasn’t big, one big living room and kitchen, a hallway, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. The couch was old a leather and tearing in multiple places, Alastor suspected that was why Charlie put so many blankets on the couch to hide the worst of it. The blankets were bright, colorful, and happy. The coffee table was glass, which was a nice choice, except for the very visible fingerprints and (other?) prints that seemed to cover it. The walls were covered with various art prints, photographs of Charlie and Angel and their friends, as well as a trippy mushroom tapestry that was hung up directly behind the couch. The TV was wall mounted. A bright blue rug was in the middle of the room, a few floor lamps, and a bean bag chair with a few Playstation controllers on them.

If Alastor didn’t know Charlie, he’d say this room was hideous. But he did know Charlie, and everything made sense. It was still a bit hideous, but he liked it all the same, because this was Charlie Morningstar in a nutshell. Alastor stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He smelled her sweet perfume scent and felt his heart flutter a bit in his chest.

“Was it a good day today?” he asked. Alastor regretted asking the question. He felt like a sitcom husband who came home after a long day of work and announced "Honey! I'm home!" He felt a bit out of place to stand in the middle of her living room, but he had no idea what she was doing and he didn’t want to intrude on her.

“It was okay!” Charlie called from one of the bedrooms. “You can come back here if you’d like!”

Alastor felt like his feet were cemented to the floor. Was Charlie being some sort of temptress? This was his attempt to take her out on a proper date and be a gentleman, but he didn’t know how strong his convictions would be if she were naked.

“O-kay,” Alastor said. He took small steps to the hallway. Angel’s bedroom door was closed and the light was on in the other bedroom that had to be hers. “Here I come,” Alastor announced at the hallway.

“Come on, silly!” Charlie giggled.

He braced himself. When he walked into her bedroom, he was glad to see she was dressed. She sat down at her vanity and brushed her long blonde hair. She looked at him in the reflection of her vanity mirror. “Hey!” she grinned when she saw him.

Alastor wondered if he’d ever tire of her enthusiastic greetings. “Hello, darling,” he smiled. “It was a good day?”

“It was fine. I think all in all it was better than I thought it would be. Come on, sit down, I’m almost done.”

Alastor hesitantly crossed the threshold into her room and sat down on the edge of her bed. Charlie wore a pair of white jean shorts and a casual blue v-neck tee. She was barefoot and her hair was wet, meaning she had time to get in a quick shower. Her room was much more mild than the living room. Charlie kept the pastel theme with blues, whites, and pinks and it was a lot more cohesive than whatever eye sore was out there.

Still, he felt uncomfortable to be sitting on the edge of her bed like this. He was out of his element and way out of his comfort zone. “Are you referring to seeing Lucifer today?” Alastor asked.

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, that was kinda unexpected.”

“For you and me both, I assure you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, by the way. He only went to the station because I didn’t answer his call and I’ve been avoiding him, so he took it to the next level. It’s my fault, I should have answered him back.”

Alastor held up a hand. “Don’t take responsibility for his actions, it’s quite alright. I’m sure we’ll see more of him in the near future.”

Charlie frowned. “Yeah…” She spun in her seat and looked at him face to face. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was decent. I put my show on without much issue.”

“Oh yeah, I thought about that. I’m glad you did. I… uh… I missed you.”

Why was she so good at this? His heart clenched at her sentiment. She made it look so easy. Did she have any clue what she did to him? The way she made him feel?

Alastor looked somewhere else in her room. “I missed you too.”

Charlie smiled and stood up from her seat at the vanity. She crossed over to him, her footfalls silent on the carpet, and leaned down to hug him. Alastor was trapped in her sweet embrace, drowned in her sweet scent, and he thought that he could die happy in her arms. He hugged her back, of course, it was natural for his arms to snake around her waist and pull her into him. Charlie put her knees on either side of him on the bed, and somehow she ended up straddling him off the edge of the bed with her arms around him and her face buried in the crook of his neck.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply held each other. The elevator gave them a taste of each other, and now, they had the freedom to do whatever they wished.

Alastor felt his dick come to life at the touch of her. He groaned to himself; so much for being the perfect gentleman. “I, uh, I wanted to take you out tonight,” he confessed. “On a proper date.”

“Oooh, dinner on a school night?” Charlie asked back playfully. She leaned back so she could look him in the eyes. Their faces hovered a few inches away–just a nudge away from a kiss. “I think we have things to discuss,” Charlie whispered.

Alastor was transfixed on her lips as they moved when she talked. He'd never looked at her lips from this close. “Do we now?” he asked.

“Yeah, uh, nothing bad. But you know, important stuff.”

“About what?”

“Shouldn’t we talk about it over dinner? Alastor? Al? Hello?”

He couldn’t take it. Watching her lips move and hearing her low voice was too much for him to handle. He kissed her, just as he did in the elevator, except this time he knew he could be selfish without interruption. He kissed her deeply and took advantage of her small gasp to slide his tongue into her mouth. She moaned immediately at the sweet intrusion and he tightened his grip on her waist.

Charlie was prepared to fight dirty. All she had to do was sink down onto Alastor’s lap and she had her prize between his legs. He grunted at her impact and she began to grind her hips into his erection. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Alastor broke their kiss and hissed sharply, “Vixen.”

She grinned. “If we’re gonna play games, we should at least talk in between.”

Talk? Alastor looked up at her incredulously from behind his glasses. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Charlie laughed. She lifted her hips. Just like that, the sweet friction was gone from him. “Hold on,” Alastor protested.

She eyed him with a smirk playing on her lips. “Alastor, what am I to you?”

He didn’t realize how difficult it was to think when all of his blood left his brain and ran south. “Perfect,” he said without thinking.

Charlie resisted to gush at his answer. “No, like, are we dating?”

“Do you want to date?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, me too.”

She liked his answer. She rewarded him by sinking back down on his erection, rolling her hips wickedly into him. Charlie knew exactly what she was doing. Alastor grunted and leaned forward to bite Charlie’s neck. He wanted her to have the biggest purple hickey that he could give her, so she’d know it came from him. “Hold on, hold on,” Charlie protested. As much as Alastor didn’t want to, he unlatched his mouth with a pop. He eyed her impatiently. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this while we’re horny,” Charlie said.

“My dear, I don’t think I’ve spent a moment with you without being horny.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to tell me what I want to hear so you can get off!”

That seemed to snap him out of his lust-filled daze. He looked up at her seriously. His eyes sought out hers and held her captive. “Do you think I’d lie to you?” he asked, his voice somber.

She didn't expect him to become so serious. This wasn't a lighthearted banter anymore and the whiplash from it made her head spin. “Um, well, not quite. I don’t know," she admitted with a low whisper.

“Charlie." Alastor lowered his hands and grabbed her by the bottom, easily hoisting her up as he stood up from the bed. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked her backwards until her back was against her bedroom wall. “Do you think,” Alastor began. He kissed her chin. “That I.” He kissed her cheek. “Don’t want to date you?”

She felt like her head was spinning faster than any merry-go-round. “But more than date me, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

He grinned. “I was hoping to be the one who asked you the question, thanks for ruining my chance to be a gentleman.”

Her eyes widened. “Ah, I’m sorry! Disregard that!” Alastor chuckled at how red Charlie turned. She turned her face so she didn’t have to look at him directly.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he offered. He nibbled on her chin and kissed down her jawline. “You can tell me anything you want, you can ask me anything you want. I’ll answer honestly, I promise I’m not telling you what you want to hear.”

She still didn’t face him. “Well, the main issue was whether or not you wanted to date me,” she said. “Because I don’t, you know, sleep with people I don’t see myself dating. I’m not a hookup kinda gal.”

“Well, you’re aware of my sexual past. I don’t think I would have slept with you unless I really found you attractive, darling. I’m surprised you want to date me, to tell you the truth.”

His confession worked. Charlie faced him and their noses nearly touched from their close proximity. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “Why would you say that?!”

He looked at her like the answer should have been obvious. “I don’t have the best track record.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“How much of it do you know about?”

Charlie didn’t respond. He had her there. “The main issue was whether or not you saw a future with me,” she said. “I just didn’t want to be a hookup to you. We’re kinda business partners, too. And if you only saw me as someone you could sleep with while we had the project going… like I get it, but I’d have to shut it down. Because I really like you, Al. I don’t want you to be casual.”

He didn’t reply. He kissed her again, this time much more aggressively. He wanted her to taste the desperation in his lips, he wanted her to have no doubt that he wanted her badly. Surely she didn’t think that she was something casual to him. The absurdity! Alastor swallowed Charlie’s moans; he drank from her, consumed her, and she surrendered herself completely to his sweet onslaught. Her hands tangled in his hair and he crushed her into the walls with his hips, his erection painfully obvious against her. Charlie was like his drug, and with every nip of her lips and swipe of his tongue on hers, he had his fix.

Finally, they broke apart when they had to breathe. A line of spit ran between their parted lips. Charlie felt dizzy in the best way. “Charlotte,” Alastor rasped. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Fuck yes I will.”

Whatever doubt they felt leading up to this moment dissipated. Alastor didn't feel like a failure for avoiding Lucifer on his radio show. Charlie didn't feel like an idiot in love. They had each other to quell their doubts and quench their lust. She rolled her hips into his to try and get the friction between her legs and he gladly obliged by rutting his clothed erection into her.

She knew it was over if he captured her lips once more. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “Alastor,” she whispered breathily.

“Yes,” he said.

“Would you please fuck me?”

He smirked. “Well, it’s not very gentlemanly of me, but whatever my girlfriend wants, she gets.”

Charlie shimmied down her jean shorts and tossed them aside. She wrapped her legs around his waist once more. All Alastor had to undo his pants to let his erection spring free. He was in no hurry to do so. He reached a hand down and ran it over her slit. She sucked in a breath at his touch and he indulged himself and dipped two fingers up and into her slick heat. Fuck, he’d have to taste her again soon. Maybe not this session, but soon. She was wet for him in the most delicious way. Alastor didn't think he'd ever get over the amazement of how wet and slick he made her. He was always in disbelief when he felt it, like he couldn't believe that he did that to her, that he made her excited. It made his chest swell with addicting pride.

“How thick are your walls?” Alastor asked with a devilish grin. He was revved up and ready to go. She wasn't going to be able to walk straight tomorrow if he had it his way. “I have yet to make you scream for me, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so hard that your neighbors will say–”

“CHARLIE!”

Alastor almost dropped her. They both shrieked at the new voice. There was banging on the front door.

“Dad!” Charlie squeaked.

“Lucifer?!” Alastor exclaimed.

The front door opened. “Sweetie, are you home? I’ve got Chinese food, I got you those egg rolls you always liked!” Lucifer called. “I hope you don’t mind that I came in, the front door was unlocked! You really should start locking your doors!”

“I’m, uh, coming dad!” Charlie called out. “Just sit down, give me a few minutes!”

She eyed Alastor with a mixture of panic, frustration, and surprise. “Fuck, fuck! What do we do?”

Alastor’s brain said to put her down and let her put her shorts back on, but his body wanted to fuck her senseless into the wall. He walked backwards and sat back down on the bed, the position they started in. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

Charlie seemed to think about his posed question. “No,” she said harshly. “I want you to walk your ass out there and have dinner with me and my dad. Then, once he leaves, and when we’ve watched his car drive off the lot, I want you to make me scream.”

Fuck. His dick twitched at that.

“Fine,” Alastor said. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather go out and meet your father when my raging erection has calmed down.”

Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. “Good idea.”

Notes:

If this were a chaotic Alastor, he wouldn't wait for his erection to go down and just waltz out in the kitchen like he owned the place LOL. God, imagine poor Lucifer's face xD Also lol Alastor always getting onto Charlie for not locking the door but look who didn't lock the door behind him and LOOK WHAT HAPPENED xD

I started to hit a bit of a writing wall, but as soon as I got to the Charlastor scene, the words just flew on the page! Good news is that I've pretty much got the rest of this story drafted out, with general ideas of where the chapters will break up, the scenes, etc. With some creative liberty for the scenes when things get FREAKY lmaoooo

The scene that stuck in my mind going into this chapter was the Rosie/Alastor talk. I'm still getting in the swing of writing Lucifer, but I hope with future scenes I'll finally hit my stride with him. He ruined our sex scene, THANKS A LOT hahahaha.

More to come! I cannot believe I've stayed so consistently on schedule with updates xD My goal is to write a couple chapters ahead that way I'm not up against the clock when it's next Friday. I know it doesn't *have* to be updated every Friday, but I enjoy the challenge of consistency.

Once again sinners, thank you for the thoughtful comments and support. If it weren't for the other fucking AMAZING Charlastor fictions on here, I would have never been inspired in the first place! <3

Chapter 9

Summary:

Alastor and Charlie's evening was interrupted by an unexpected guest.

Charlie was proud of herself for her record time of going out into the living room to meet her dad. She left Alastor to handle himself (and yes, the fact that she was leaving him alone in her room knowing how hard he was for her made her ache) but she had damage control to do. All Charlie did was put back on her jean shorts and pull her hair into a loose ponytail. She didn’t have to worry about it looking messy because she just got out of the shower and her hair was still damp. It was uncomfortable for her to walk out in the living room in her soaking wet panties (her pussy practically screamed in protest when Alastor’s deft fingers left her) but she’d just have to deal with it. This wasn’t the first time she would have to ignore how horny she was, but fuck, it never felt so torturous before.

The only thing she worried about was her flushed face. She didn’t know what she’d say to defend that. Luckily, when she stepped out into the living quarters, Lucifer seemed to have busied himself with the food. He had opened the containers of food and left them on the kitchen counter for Charlie to choose from.

As inconvenient as it was that he was here, to put very mildly, Charlie did feel happiness when she saw her father. She wasn’t so blinded by her sexual aggravation that she didn’t recognize the kind gesture her father put forth. They didn’t end things on a good note earlier that day in Alastor’s office. It already felt like a million years had passed since then, but it was just that afternoon. Lucifer didn’t want to end things on bad terms with her, and Charlie appreciated his attempt at reconciliation. It was just the timing why couldn’t he wait like twenty minutes?

“Hey dad,” Charlie greeted. Not too enthusiastic, but she made sure her tone was chipper.

Lucifer spun around and put his arms out. “Charlie!” It was as if their fight from earlier had never happened. He pulled her into a hug and squeezed her tight. “I know I came over unannounced, I tried calling you but you didn’t answer.”

Did he? Charlie recalled that her phone was still in the bathroom on the counter. She never took it with her in the room after her shower. “I’m sorry, dad,” she said. “I’m not trying to avoid you, I promise. I’m just very busy and things have been, well, kinda crazy.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s been off the chain insane,” Lucifer said. Charlie internally screamed. He picked up that lingo when she was in middle school and here she was in her mid-twenties, and he still thought that it was relevant. “About earlier…” Lucifer continued. “Look, I haven’t seen you in so long, sweetie. I don’t want to fight with you. Can we please pause our conversation and enjoy the evening catching up?”

This was his version of a truce. Charlie was pleased to hear it. Lucifer wasn’t asking to sweep the issues under the rug and pretend they didn’t exist, but he was asking that the subject could be avoided. She was inclined to agree; she didn’t want to talk about her project, she wanted to find out what her dad had been up to since they last saw each other. What shows he watched, books he’d read, and if he got any more rubber ducks for his collection.

“That sounds fine, dad,” Charlie said with a smile. “Did you stop by the park to feed the ducks?”

Lucifer laughed. “Ah, unfortunately not! There was a good bit of rush hour traffic and I wanted to get the food and get over here in a timely manner. The ducks are good though, very healthy.”

“Are you still feeding them bread?”

“Well actually, Char, it’s not good to feed ducks bread. I read a very fascinating article on their digestive systems, bread doesn’t have much nutritional value. So I’ve started making my own trail mix for the ducks, isn’t that fun? They get their own little trail mix to give them energy before they start swimming.” Lucifer beamed as he spoke about his troop of ducks at the park. Once, when Charlie was much younger, she envied the ducks. But now, as she looked at Lucifer’s big grin, she couldn’t help but be amused.

He’s more supportive of the ducks at the park than you.

“That’s great, dad,” Charlie said. She ignored the negative thought she let slip past her mental barrier.

Lucifer grinned. “Is Angel home?”

“No, he’s out for work, I don’t think he’ll be back until late.”

“Well, shoot. I got plenty of food, please feel free to dig in! Plenty to go around!” Lucifer put his arms out to show his display of to go containers of food. He did, indeed, buy plenty of food.

“Looks delicious,” a new voice said.

Lucifer’s grin instantly vanished. He turned his head to see that Alastor was standing in the kitchen, all casual like with his hands in his trouser pockets. It was like Alastor was comfortable to be inside of Charlie’s home, like it was no big deal, whereas Lucifer had never been inside his daughter’s home. Alastor had no right to be more at ease than him! In fact, Alastor had no right to even be here!

Without warning, Lucifer “sneezed” and flung his arms and entire body dramatically over the kitchen counter, effectively knocking over three containers of food. The Chinese food unceremoniously dropped to the kitchen floor, spilling all over the tile.

“D-dad!” Charlie shrieked.

“Oops, sorry Char, I get so spastic when I sneeze,” Lucifer said. He regarded Alastor with a hostile glance. “Looks like there’s not as much food as I thought.”

Alastor wore his Radio Demon grin, although his eyes narrowed at the Morningstar man. “That’s quite alright,” Alastor said tightly through his smile. “Fast food can be quite unhealthy, you know, lots of hidden fat and sugar. They say your metabolism really drops when you’re over forty.” Alastor made sure to emphasize forty.

Lucifer sneered. “Yes, well having good habits going into your forties helps combat it dramatically.”

“Yes, but no one can escape the hands of time.”

“Well, maybe the hands of time tick faster when you smoke! I wonder what color your lungs are? Perhaps the same shade of black as your heart?”

“Okay!” Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I need to get a broom and paper towels to clean up this mess. Alastor, if you’d like some of my lo-mein, you’re more than welcome.”

“Why thank you, Charlotte. That’s very kind of you to offer.”

“I’ll clean the mess I made,” Lucifer growled. “Why don’t you get your food and sit down, I’ll join you in a moment.”

Alastor felt Lucifer’s eyes on him as he stepped around the mess and helped himself to a plate that Charlie retrieved from the cupboard. As Charlie spooned herself some rice and noodles, Lucifer made quick work of sweeping the food into the trash bin. “You’ll have to wipe the food off the bin otherwise you’ll get maggots,” Alastor said.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Lucifer said through gritted teeth.

“You also missed a spot.”

“I’m not finished yet!”

“Let’s sit down!” Charlie chirped. “Al, this way!”

There was no dining room table in the house, that was too fancy for Charlie and Angel. The two preferred to eat on the couch while they ate so they could watch TV. Charlie patted the couch for Alastor to sit and pulled the glass coffee table closer to them for the food. Alastor wondered if all three of them would squish together on the couch, and if that was the case, he really considered making an excuse to leave dinner. Charlie would kill him for leaving her, he knew it, but who’s to say he couldn’t wait in his car until Lucifer left and then come back inside? He didn’t doubt that he could find a way to apologize to Charlie (“Do you want my fingers first or my tongue, darling?”).

His thoughts of escape were short-lived when Charlie took the bean bag chair and scooted it to the opposite side of the coffee table. “Dad, do you mind the bean bag chair?” she called out.

Lucifer walked out with his plate of food. “That’s great for me!” he beamed.

“Great!” Charlie plopped down on the couch and nodded towards the seat next to her. Alastor sat down next to her. He was stiff and uncomfortable with his plate of two egg rolls and a heaping spoonful of lo-mein. Lucifer sat down in the bean bag chair, sinking down comfortably while balancing his food. “Thanks again, dad,” Charlie said.

“Anything for you, angel,” Lucifer replied. “You are so sweet and so cute and so precious and you only deserve the best, don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise, no matter how charismatic they might seem.”

Alastor white-knuckled his chopsticks. Lucifer was not a subtle man, he knew exactly what the unspoken words meant. It was a bit ironic, although Alastor was too wrapped up in the moment to recognize the irony. He worried about how little he knew about Charlie, and here was her father, a man that Alastor knew very well. Not personally, but professionally.

“Eh, thanks dad,” Charlie stammered. She wasn’t blind to the bad blood between her father and her (very recent, like as of ten minutes ago) boyfriend. She wasn’t prepared for the level of hostility that emanated from both of the men. Charlie wished that someone else was here to cut the tension, like Niffty, who would surely be a welcome distraction with whatever thought popped into her sporadic mind.

“So,” Lucifer began. “Why are you at Charlie’s place, Alastor?”

The Radio Demon wished that he and Charlie had a bit more time to discuss the disaster they were walking into. Perhaps if both of them hadn’t been so lust-filled they would have thought to do so. Alastor guessed that Charlie wasn’t ready to tell her father about the new status of their relationship. He didn’t know much about the dynamic between them, but he knew enough. It was tense. It didn’t take intelligence to know the truth would make matters worse.

So, Alastor answered the question without hesitation and flowed into conversation like the professional he was. Years of radio to thank for that skill. “We were finalizing our plans for this coming week regarding the center,” Alastor said. “We’re very close to getting the building up to code. Charlie, that reminds me, tomorrow I have someone coming out and inspecting the plumbing. On Wednesday I’ve scheduled someone to check the AC and gas lines. I think we should also have someone come out and inspect for termites and give it a treatment, I’m sure it’s been awhile.”

Charlie’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She was so worried that Alastor would fumble his posed question and reveal their relationship, but he answered the question with flying colors. He was perfect, absolutely perfect. “Th-that’s so sweet, that’s wonderful!” Charlie gushed. She so badly wanted to reach out and hold his hand and give it a squeeze, but she had to force herself to stay in her own space on the couch.

It won’t be long until everyone knows about us, Al, Charlie thought to herself. I can’t wait to scream it from the fucking rooftops! She looked at him and tried not to let herself get carried away, but it was a futile battle. He was so hopelessly handsome, and he didn’t even see it! She stared at his side profile and thought about kissing along his jawline. Would she feel any stubble from the beginning of a beard? How often did he need to shave to stay so clean-shaven, anyway? There were so many details about him that she wanted–no, needed–to know about him.

After all, he was her boyfriend.

Charlie didn’t realize she was grinning until Lucifer grinned up at her. “I’m glad that things are going so well at the center,” he said.

“Thanks dad. I-uh-to be truthful, I wouldn’t be able to do this without Alastor. He’s been very helpful.”

Lucifer’s grin shrunk down to a small smile. “Well,” he said, “I’d like to help, too. Anyway I can help, sweetie, please tell me. I want you to be safe.”

A lot could be said about Lucifer as a dad, but one thing he always took seriously was his only child’s safety. The sincerity wasn’t doubted. His offer made Charlie think of her conversation with Vaggie and Angel earlier at the center. If there was ever an opportunity to enlist her father’s resources, now was the time.

“Well, uh, there’s a bit of a problem,” Charlie admitted.

Both pairs of eyes instantly fixated on her. She shrank under the gaze of her father and her lover. “What kind of problem?” Alastor asked. His voice had an edge to it. Charlie knew that he didn’t enjoy being blindsided, and he certainly didn’t like finding out new information at the same time as her father.

“Yes, what kind of problem?” Lucifer echoed.

Charlie looked down at her plate of food. She wished she could disappear into the couch. The scrutiny of her father was one thing, but the scrutiny of her father and Alastor? It was unbearable.

“Weeeeell,” she began. “So my friend Angel, who is like an older brother to me, has had it rough. He works for a man named Valentino, who basically runs the porn industry down here in this city, and he has his claws in pretty much every nightclub, bar, and anything sex-related. He’s powerful. And Angel has been, you know, sorta-kinda-maybe pissing him off because he’s been trying to get clean off the drugs and he’s helping me with the project and that sorta-kinda-maybe pissed Valentino off and he sorta-kinda-maybe swore that he would take down my center brick by brick.”

Both men didn’t speak at first. They processed the information. Charlie swore that she could feel the heat emanating from Alastor. He knew more than Lucifer, that was for sure. Lucifer had no idea that Valentino hit Charlie at the club that fateful night, but Alastor knew, and Alastor wasn’t one to forget or forgive such an incident. The Radio Demon hadn’t forgotten, oh no, if anything he’d thought about Valentino from time to time and thought about finishing the job of thoroughly beating his ass into the ground.

One look and Charlie knew that this wasn’t over between her and Alastor. He would have a word with her about this, and it wouldn’t be her sweet Al speaking to her, oh no, it would be the Radio Demon. She imagined it would be a series of “Why didn’t you tell me about this?!” followed by “I would have handled Valentino myself if you had told me!” and perhaps a “Don’t blindside me like that!” for good measure.

She had a taste of Alastor’s ruthless nature the second night she spent at his place. But this was personal. This was Valentino potentially posing a threat at her. When Lucifer drove off the lot, she was in for it.

“I’ve got more than enough resources for security,” Lucifer said. He sounded enthusiastic. “I’d be happy to use them at your disposal. I’ll call and have them first thing tomorrow morning.”

Charlie smiled nervously. “Thanks dad. But I don’t want you getting rid of Husk. I still want him there.”

“Yes, Husk will remain,” Alastor affirmed. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. Alastor would be damned if he lost his eyes and ears. He’d need to have a chat with him about keeping him informed, because clearly Charlie wasn’t keeping him up to date. “I doubt Valentino would be stupid enough to try anything if he knows that your father is involved,” Alastor mused. “This is a good thing.”

Charlie perked up at that. “You think so?”

“Of course. Your father is useful.”

Lucifer wasn’t sure whether or not Alastor was being sarcastic or genuinely complimenting him. “Ehm, thanks,” he said. “I am quite useful.”

“Well, your security team is useful,” Alastor said dryly.

Lucifer sneered. “Because they work for me.”

“I’m sure you pay them very well.”

“I do pay them well! And I’ve brought them banana bread on multiple occasions!”

Charlie clapped her hands together. “Well! I’m finished eating! Does anyone want dessert?”

Alastor eyed her. “I prefer to have dessert after I know that every issue has been handled,” he said with an edge to the tone of his voice. “And, unfortunately, it seems a few more issues have come up that I was unaware of.”

Charlie swallowed hard. How was it possible that Alastor made her feel so timid yet so excited at the same time? When Lucifer left she’d be all alone with the predator, and he would be on the hunt for her, the gleam in his eyes said it all. She was in for a lecture, but at least she’d be all his to devour.

Jesus Charlie, get a grip.

She doubted that was possible. She was in for the ride, and all she could do was strap on.

~*~*~*~

Goodbyes followed soon after dinner. It was 8:30 in the evening when Charlie called it and told Lucifer she needed to be up early in the morning for her shift at the café. Which was true, but she already knew that she wouldn’t get much sleep. It was going to be a three-cup of coffee with double shots of espresso day.

Alastor excused himself for the evening and announced that he needed to get home. One shared look with his dark eyes and Charlie knew that it was a ruse, he simply didn’t want to draw attention to their situation. She bid Alastor a fake farewell and waited a few minutes before telling Lucifer that she was tired. Her father didn’t keep her any longer than she wanted.

He stood at her front door and reached his arms out for another hug. “Goodnight, sweetie,” he said warmly. “I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s okay?”

Charlie hugged her father. Four hugs in one day, that was a record! “Sounds good,” she said. “I’ll be sure to answer.”

“You better!” Lucifer grinned. He squeezed Charlie tight and held on for nearly ten seconds. “I love you, Char,” he whispered softly.

“I love you, too.”

Charlie watched Lucifer walk down the steps of her apartment floor. She enjoyed the night breeze on her skin, it set every nerve on fire. She knew better than to believe it was the wind, however, she knew exactly why every cell in her bloodstream practically sang.

She counted to twenty-nine before she heard his approaching footsteps. Alastor walked around the corner of the apartment building and waited until Lucifer said his goodbyes. The two were alone for another few hours at least, Charlie had texted Angel and he said he wouldn’t be in until midnight or so.

There was a distinctively dark aura that emanated off of Alastor as he approached Charlie. He was cross with her, she knew that much. She didn’t have to be a psychic to know why. She was trapped by his heady gaze as he stalked towards her. Everything about him was different; his body language, his eyes, and the way his jaw set.

“Let’s talk inside, shall we?” he asked. His voice was a hard shell. Charlie nodded and stepped inside. Alastor followed closely behind and shut the door behind him. He locked the door. “I assume Angel has a key."

“Yeah,” Charlie whispered. She didn’t know why she was whispering, but at that moment, she didn’t think she could project her voice even if she wanted to.

“Good, let’s make sure it gets put to use for once.” Alastor nearly towered over her, using his superior height to every advantage. His eyes never left hers. “Darling, I hate surprises…” he began.

She was backing up without realizing it until the back of her legs hit the coffee table. “Look, I know,” Charlie said. “I didn’t have time to tell you! I shouldn’t have blindsided you, I know, but it was important for dad to know that I needed his help with security.”

“Oh, I don’t disagree with you on that,” Alastor said. He grinned as he said it, but it held no joy. He showed his teeth like a predator. “You had a very good idea to enlist your father’s resources.”

Charlie didn’t expect a compliment. “Thanks,” she squeaked.

“The problem,” Alastor said, his voice deepening. He reached out and held her by the hips, effectively trapping her in place. He leaned down until his nose was just a hair apart from hers, and his eyes burned into hers. “Is that you didn’t tell me sooner that there was danger. I want to be the first person to know when there’s a crisis, Charlotte. I want to know the moment it happens when there’s even a whiff of trouble.”

Fuck. She forgot how to breathe. That same ache returned between her legs, but it came back with a vengeance and hit her much harder. She felt like she physically ached for him. The eye contact and alluring smell of nicotine didn’t help, either. Alastor smoked a cigarette while he waited for Lucifer to leave, Charlie knew he did.

“I understand,” Charlie whispered. She put her hands on his chest and tugged the shirt material. She felt his heart beat against his chest through her fingertips.

“When did you find out about Valentino?” Alastor asked.

“Well, I officially found out this morning when Angel went to the café during my shift.”

“You could have told me in the elevator.”

“I was distracted by my dad. And by your kiss.”

“Hmm. Why didn’t you call me? Text me? Or tell me when I first arrived this evening?” he asked. Alastor rubbed circles in Charlie’s hip with his thumbs. He had a tight grip on her hips. She wondered if she’d have bruises in the shape of his fingers in the morning.

“I-I just didn’t think about it,” Charlie stammered. “I don’t think very clearly when you’re here, Al. I just think about you.”

He seemed to like that answer. Alastor leaned down and captured the flesh of the junction between her neck and shoulder. Then, he bit down. Charlie shrieked in surprise and grabbed his shirt in response. He hummed into her exposed skin and ran his tongue along the bite.

“You have to promise me,” he hissed in a gravelly voice. “That if there’s ever danger, ever a problem, that you’ll tell me. Promise me, Charlotte. This is one of the most important requests I’ll ever ask of you.”

“I promise,” Charlie whined. She longed for their bodies to be pressed together. She cried out in relief when Alastor hoisted her up by the hips and picked her up the same way he did earlier when he put her against the wall. Just like earlier, her legs eagerly wrapped around his waist. She hugged him tight as he walked them out of the living room and into her bedroom.

Whump!

“Oomph!”

The next thing Charlie knew, Alastor plopped her down on her bed like she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. She bounced on the bed–her own bed–and looked at him with incredulous surprise. He smirked at her as if to acknowledge that yes he had the audacity to throw her on the bed.

The smirk on his face was answer enough. Alastor kept his distance from the bed and stood in the middle of her bedroom. He closed the door behind them. He undid the first few buttons of his shirt. Charlie sat up on the bed but didn’t dare move from her spot. This wasn’t like him to start undressing first. They hadn’t had many sexual affairs, but from what Charlie gathered, Alastor wasn’t one to undress until after he ravaged her.

He stopped undoing the buttons halfway down his shirt and she deflated like a balloon. She enjoyed seeing his exposed chest, but she thought he’d take the damn shirt off. He knew it faked her out and his smirk deepened at her visible disappointment.

“Tease,” Charlie remarked.

“Darling, this is business. We’re not discussing pleasure,” Alastor replied. He sounded so fucking amused.

“You have my word, Al. I won’t keep anything from you and if anything dangerous comes up, you’ll be the first to know.”

“That’s good, baby. Because if anything were to ever happen to you, I would more than likely end up in prison.” Alastor shimmied down his trousers and kicked off his loafers before Charlie realized he did it. He stood there in his boxers and half-buttoned dress shirt. His full-blown erection returned from earlier in the evening. “If Valentino ever harms you again, if he ever attempts to… I’ll fucking kill him,” Alastor uttered. “I thought about it that night I found you at the bar. If I hadn’t driven you home and made sure you were okay… I don’t know. I probably would have gone looking for him. I wanted to pummel him, Charlie. He would have been unrecognizable when I was through with him.”

Alastor was showing her a side of himself that he never let come out. It was dormant in him most days, hell, most of his life. But it was there, his lust for violence, his complete disregard for doing what’s right, instead the sick indulgence of doing what he desired. Charlie could see it now, this side of Alastor, this side of the Radio Demon. He loved chaos.

She wasn’t scared. Sure, perhaps a part of her was scared, and maybe it was the part of her that made her hands tremble from nerves. But Charlie knew that this side of him could be tamed. This wasn’t really Alastor, this was merely a side of him. It spoke volumes that he let her see it, did it not?

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m not in danger, Al… I’m right here.”

He took slow, agonizing steps towards the bed. He was only inches away from her, yet he made no move to close their gap. Charlie sat up on her knees and dared to reach out and finish unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes followed her hands and he stiffened when she touched him. She sensed his hesitation. Despite it, he allowed her to finish what he started, and with careful precision, Charlie had his shirt fully unbuttoned. Alastor shrugged his shirt off and discarded it to the floor.

She looked up at him with her big, doe eyes. He stared down at her, silently challenging her to make the next move. Charlie felt a stray tear roll down her left cheek. She leaned forward and gently kissed Alastor’s chest. She mirrored her actions from the first time they made love, when she straddled him in the bathtub. He exhaled in a hiss when Charlie looked up at him, her chin rested on his chest.

If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn that there was a look of fear in Alastor’s eyes. This was more than anger, brutality, and promises of violence… it was all brought on because of her because he thought she was in danger.

Charlie tore her eyes away from his and held her breath. She’d need to do this swiftly. She grabbed the waistband of his boxers, pulled it down, and licked her prize hidden underneath. Alastor made a choked sound the moment her tongue touched his cock and it sent a volt of electricity through her entire body.

His hands immediately went to her hair and he grabbed himself a handful. Charlie gripped his dick by its base and stared at his length. She practically salivated at the sight of it. The thought occurred to Charlie, not for the first time, that Alastor may have never had a blow job. That could have been why he was so reluctant the second night they spent at his place. She used restraint from taking him fully into her mouth and instead gave his length another long, languid lick.

In response, his hips bucked forward into her face. “Fuck,” Alastor groaned.

Charlie didn’t want to smile in case he took it the wrong way. It’s not that they were competing, not that she was winning, but she did feel like she won. She gripped the base of his cock harder (he felt so fucking good in her hands) and took him into her mouth. He tasted divine, his precum coating her awaiting tongue. Alastor bucked into her mouth once she took him. It wasn’t voluntary, neither was how hard he gripped her hair. Still, Charlie persisted. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to be him and to never have done this before. She wanted to make this good for him. She nearly took him fully in her mouth but stopped just before he hit her gag reflex.

“Ch-ar–ah–arlie.”

Alastor moaned her name. She made him do that. Delight swelled in her chest and only made her squeeze her eyes shut and suck him harder. Charlie took him as deep as she could go while holding the base of his cock.

However, just as she started to get a good rhythm, the hands in her hair loosened and her prize was pushed out of her mouth with a pop. Before Charlie knew what was happening, she was picked up and slammed back on the bed, this time in the middle of the bed, and Alastor was the one who knelt in front of her on the bed. He had no right to move so fucking fast.

“Wait!” Charlie exclaimed.

“I’m done waiting,” Alastor growled. He yanked her shorts down, grabbing her panties with them, and Charlie lifted her hips so he could undress her below the waist fully. She took her top off and discarded it in record time. He gave her just enough time to do so before he grabbed her legs and parted them in the air. Alastor stared at her exposed pussy with nothing but carnal lust. Charlie felt so exposed like this–legs up, on her back–and yet she was so on edge that she felt like she’d combust.

He let go of one leg long enough to give himself a few hard strokes, which almost made her finish just by the sight of it. Alastor’s strong, deft hands grabbing his cock and stroking himself was definitely going to be burned in her mind forever. He grabbed her by the hips (now he grabbed her hard enough to leave bruises, she was sure of it) and he sheathed inside of her in one forceful stroke.

Charlie screamed. Son-of-a-bitch, he did exactly as he promised, he made her scream. It was a cathartic cry of finally getting filled, the rush of pain when he bottomed out in her in one go, and the pleasure of her nerves finally getting stimulated. It was everything–pain and pleasure–and it was both too much and not nearly enough. Another tear rolled down Charlie’s cheek. She wanted this. She wanted it so badly.

Alastor was going to give it to her. He was going to give it all to her.

He grinded into her with his cock fully inside of her, stretching her out, feeling her walls come alive around him. Then, he eased out until only the tip was in, and slammed back inside of her. The loud slap of their hips meeting was depraved but felt so fucking good. Charlie could only lean back in the bed and surrender herself to Alastor. She didn’t want to think about anything. She just wanted him to fuck her. She needed him to fuck her.

That devilish grin was back as he continued his ministrations. Slam inside of her, grind himself into her hips, pull all the way out, and slam back in. He reached down and grabbed her boob, massaging it in his hand. She liked that and heaved her chest up into his grip to encourage him. He settled into a rhythm of thrusting her and kneading the soft flesh of her breast. But he wanted more, and as satisfying as it was to see Charlie reduced to a writhing mess, he had other plans. Alastor fully unsheathed from her and Charlie sat up. “Why’d yo–”

The question died on her lips when he consumed her. He crushed her body with the full weight of his and he pinned her to the bed to kiss her. She wondered if he tasted himself on her tongue, just like she tasted herself on his tongue. He won this round, but she wasn't going to quit. She'd show him what a blow job to completion could really feel like. For now, Charlie was happy to moan approval into Alastor's mouth and he drank it up. He bit her lower lip and she tasted blood. The pain didn’t even register, not like the sweet pain of her neck bite. He ran his tongue along her lip and sucked it between his teeth. Alastor was aggressive, impatient. He wanted as much of her as he could get.

Charlie roamed her hands down his body while he had fun with her bottom lip. She tried to focus on the feel of his skin. Before she could really touch him, Alastor had already moved on. He used his speed once more and sat up enough to flip Charlie over onto her stomach. She didn’t fully register that Alastor managed to successfully flip her over until his teeth grazed her shoulders and worked down her back. It had been a long, long time since Charlie was in this kind of position with a lover. It was always intimate to her because she was face-down and at her lover's mercy. Electricity zipped up and down her spine with anticipation. Any protest that she may have voiced died in her throat when Alastor bit her bare ass cheek. He sat back on his knees, hunched over her, and took as much of her ass cheek as his mouth could fit. Charlie squealed in absolute delight.

They both knew there would be a hickey there. A big, purple, mouth-shaped hickey. “Yes,” Charlie moaned as he sucked her.

Alastor let her ass go and inspected his work. She wasn’t looking at him, instead her face was buried in the bed. If she had looked at him, she would have seen an absolute feral grin on his face. Drool dripped down the corner of his chin. He salivated at this close proximity to her. Alastor’s eyes were glued to her perfect, bare ass. He smacked the other cheek and watched it bounce. He didn’t use nearly as much force as he wanted, just enough to make it jiggle. He smacked the cheek again, this time a little harder. Her white skin turned a light shade of pink. The idea that her white skin could have a red mark the shape of his hand made his cock twitch almost painfully.

“Fuck, Charlie, fuck,” Alastor muttered.

He was manic with lust that he resorted to just cussing. He imagined what it would be like to have her on her stomach and ass up, but to actually have it come to fruition was another thing entirely. Alastor buried his face between Charlie's cheeks. She squealed in surprise. She didn't expect him to do it. Charlie gripped the bed sheets tighter as Alastor explored between her cheeks with his tongue. He pried her ass as far as it would go with rough hands. She mewled when his tongue dipped into her tight hole. "Please, Al," Charlie begged. She needed release.

He took mercy on her and lifted his head, finally letting go of her ass. He gave the left cheek one more quick bite before he changed positions. He positioned himself above her and lined his dick up to her slit. They both couldn’t take much more; they both knew that this would be all between their sweet release. Charlie looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. She parted her legs on the bed and he rested his hips on top of hers and thrust inside of her.

The new position from behind made her see stars. He hit her at a different angle. She moaned incoherently and he groaned as he fucked her. He watched her beneath him; being pressed into the bed at his mercy as he fucked her. It was an addicting sight to behold. Alastor leaned down and bit her shoulder, not nearly as hard as the first bite, but he got a decent bit of her skin in his mouth. She shuddered beneath him. She was so close; he felt so good inside of her. She'd never been fucked quite like this, not with an emotional connection like this. She swore she felt every twitch inside of her.

Alastor snaked his hand around her hips and found her clit like a moth to a flame. He used quite impressive strength in holding himself up on the bed with just one arm, while the other hand circled aggressively into her bundle of nerves. Charlie buried her face into the bed and screamed; her orgasm came without warning.

“Oh, Charlie,” Alastor choked out. Her walls clenched around him tightly, he knew he was close to chasing his release after hers. Charlie looked over her shoulder and met his lust-dazed eyes. He would have sworn that his heart exploded in his chest at the sight of her–she had never looked more beautiful before than in that moment. She came down from her climax, her mouth parted and her lips in an “O”, cheeks flushed pink. But what made his heart wrench in his chest was the look in her eyes. She looked at him like she loved him.

He surged forward and kissed her as he came. She accepted his lips eagerly and he released himself in her wet heat. Alastor’s kiss was sloppy, teeth and spit and nips, and Charlie welcomed all of it. He pulled out of her and made quick work of collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her into him. She accepted his embrace and wiped his sweaty bangs off the side of his forehead.

They would have to clean up, but for now, Alastor’s only intention was to hold her in his arms. That was fine by Charlie, she planned on listening to his heart beat.

~*~*~*~

Rosie fully endorsed the saying “keep your friends close but your enemies closer” especially when it came to show business. The other producers at Seven Rings Radio Station weren’t her competition, they all played on the same team. However, air time and slots were coveted, and Rosie would always protect Radio Demon’s prime time hour of 5-6PM Monday-Friday. They would have to take her time slot out of her cold, dead hands as far as she was concerned.

Thankfully, Alastor was the radio station’s biggest money maker. Ever since this intrigue with Charlie Morningstar, his ratings have risen, although the numbers aren’t quite where Rosie had hoped. He was on his way back to the top, but he had yet to really break through. It would take time. These things didn’t happen overnight.

Rosie didn’t have to socialize with the other producers if she didn’t want to, but she was eager to get to know everyone in the radio station. She made friends relatively easy with the other producers. Some of them absolutely hated their bosses; the producer for Twister Johnny, the weather forecaster, said that Johnny was an absolute shit-head to work for. Gossip and love advice Ask Mia was actually having an affair with two other people, according to her producer. Rosie knew that she had it lucky that she had a healthy relationship with Alastor.

Still, she liked to find out the inside scoop amongst the workers. Seven Rings Radio was a breeding ground for drama, and as long as Alastor wasn’t a hot topic, it wasn’t Rosie’s problem. Not her problem meant that it was free entertainment! Her favorite person to chat up was Frank, Vox’s newest producer. He lasted twenty-six days, a record for producers who work for Vox.

That Monday evening, after discussing serious dating affairs with Alastor, Rosie went to her favorite bar in the city to wind down. Frank met her at 6:30, and despite how tired he looked, he smiled at her. “Frank! How’s it going?” Rosie grinned from her seat.

Frank sat down and sighed. “Busy, really busy. I don’t know how you do it, I really don’t.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

Frank shook his head. “I got my boss a guest speaker like I’m supposed to do every week, you know? And the guy I booked ended up being a bigger prick than Vox!”

Rosie grinned. “Oooh, who is it?”

“Adam Evans! He’s a prick in real life!”

“I could have told you that. Sorry to tell you, Frank, but you’ll have a hell of a time when Adam comes onto your show.” Rosie sipped her wine and leaned back in her seat. “I’m assuming that you’ve brought him on because he’s running in the upcoming election? Mayor, right? He’s going up against Morningstar.” As Rosie spoke, she couldn’t help but think about her own show. Alastor loved it when it was election year in the city. The candidates were running for mayor and Alastor was sure to be glued to the screen to watch all of the debates and press conferences.

She stopped herself. Actually, Alastor may not be as involved as she thought. He may very well have a girlfriend soon. Rosie sighed. Of course she was happy that Alastor was finally pursuing a relationship. But there was still work to be done, bills to pay, planning for shows, etc.

Frank tapped his fingers on the table. “Don’t ask Adam on your show,” he warned. “It’s not worth it.”

“Oh, I doubt he’ll go on the Radio Demon’s show. Adam Evans and Alastor don’t exactly see eye-to-eye,” Rosie smiled.

“He kept telling me that he looked forward to speaking to Alastor.”

“He said what?”

“Yeah, he said when he comes over to the studio he would meet everyone. I told him it wasn’t necessary and he told me to suck a dick. Adam wants to get as much exposure as possible, he’s going up against Short King.”

Rosie found it a bit comical that even Frank referred to Lucifer by his fan girl nickname. “Right,” she drawled. “Well, I don’t blame him for trying to fight back against Lucifer’s popularity. We’ll just have to see. What day is he coming over to the studio?”

“Wednesday.”

“I’ll give Alastor a heads up. Thanks Frank.”

“Sure thing. And Rosie?”

“Yes?”

Frank leaned forward as if he was sharing a secret. “I know Vox is an asshole. And y’know, Alastor is a bit of one, too. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“But Adam? He’s worse. He’s so much worse. He called me an egg-head.”

Rosie feigned a gasp. “No, he didn’t!”

“He did!”

Rosie felt a little guilty. Frank, without a doubt, had an egg-shaped head. She was glad that she agreed to meet Frank for drinks. She got her wine, got some gossip, and knew to brace herself for whatever Wednesday would bring. She wasn’t scared of Adam Evans. Not one bit.

~*~*~*~

When Charlie got up that morning she felt like her bones melted inside of her body and she was a moving mass of slush. She made quick work of getting up, getting dressed, and left the apartment by 6:30 in the morning. Alastor kissed her goodbye around 5:00, she wasn’t entirely sure when he slipped away, she just knew that he smoked a morning cigarette and the menthol taste was strong on his breath when bidding her goodbye.

Charlie was glad for the mornings that she had to take a bus to work. She had time to sit and think instead of driving herself and focus on the road. The morning transit was busier than usual but Charlie found a seat before all the spots were taken. She texted Alastor a heart and let him know she was on her way to work. She forgot how nice it was to have someone to tell where she was; it made her feel that much less lonely.

The bus ride blurred by and Charlie was at work on time for her shift. She hustled inside the cafe and grabbed an apron. “Morning, everyone,” she greeted as she entered the building.

“Charlie!” her boss exclaimed. The older woman was smiling. “You’ve got a surprise table in your section.”

She was confused but peered across the room to see who her manager referred to. There, in the corner booth, Lucifer sat down with a cup of coffee and a book. It was no secret that Charlie was his daughter, but she never brought it up, and the cafe buzzed with joy that a celebrity came to eat at their establishment. “It’s the short king!” one of the waitresses giggled from behind Charlie. “He’s even cuter in person!”

“I see,” Charlie said. Her enthusiasm paled in comparison to everyone else’s.

“Well go on, go ask him what he wants! Tell him if he wants lunch, he’s got it!” her manager encouraged.

Charlie felt like she floated over to her father’s table. Lucifer grinned when he saw her. “Good morning!”

“Morning, dad. You’ve got this whole place starstruck.”

Lucifer shrugged. “I know I’ve got that boom-boom-pow.”

“Dad, please. What would you like to drink?”

“Just coffee, sweetie. I came here to say good morning and give you some information that you might find interesting.” Lucifer reached into his briefcase, which sat next to him on the booth, and handed Charlie a business card. “Her name is Carmilla Carmine. She’s one of the biggest funders of the city and is one of the richest families in New Orleans. Richer than us, probably! If anyone was going to back you, it would be her.”

Charlie stared at the business card, dumbfounded. She blinked a few times to snap out of her daze and took the card. “Dad, I, uh… I don’t know what to say. Thank you. Is she a friend of yours?”

Lucifer chuckled. “Oh no, I don’t think she likes me. Never RSVP’d to my 2017 Christmas party, her message was loud and clear. You don’t have to be friends in my line of work, you just have to have mutual respect. But she’s just the beginning, Char. If you get a meeting with her, she could open the door to other financial backers who can donate to your foundation.”

This wasn’t the first time that the thought occurred to Charlie that she could use her father’s resources and contacts. She always denied the idea because at the end of the day she didn’t have his moral support, and she’d be damned if she asked him for his help. Lucifer may not believe in her idea just yet… but he was handing this contact over to her without asking. All on his own accord.

“Thanks, dad,” Charlie said.

He smiled. “I’ve got a big day today! Got some press conferences to do, gotta clean up any mess that Adam Evans threw at my name yesterday. The security team has been notified of your center and location. They’re there now, just two of my guys watching the building, and once you go over there we can send in more. If you have any issues with them, give me a call.”

An entire fleet of security at Charlie’s disposal, free of charge!

“I will,” she assured. “This uh, this Adam Evans guy… is he the same one who ran against you all those years ago? Back before mom le–”

“He is,” Lucifer said, cutting her off. He chuckled and shut his briefcase. “Yup, sure is. He’s a prick, but who isn’t in politics?”

“You’re not, dad.”

“Thanks, Charlie. A lot of people would disagree with you.”

“I wouldn’t!” a waitress squealed from a few tables away. She waved at them and made a heart symbol with her hands. “Love you, Lucifer!”

The Morningstar man simply waved. She was his third fan girl this morning alone, he’d have ten by lunch. As long as he could get through the day with no panties thrown in his general direction, he considered the day a success. “Anyhoo,” he said. “Just coffee, Char.”

Charlie nodded and went behind the bar. Her coworkers buzzed around her as she poured a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee. She noticed that the coffee nearly spilled in her grasp because her hands shook so badly. Nobody else seemed to notice. Charlie sighed, setting the cup of coffee down on the counter. She took a deep breath.

Your nerves are just shot is all, Char. You haven’t seen dad in so long and now you’ve seen him three times in less than twenty-four hours. And now he apparently wants to help you as much as he can even though he thinks you’re wasting your time. Chill.

Something else bothered the Morningstar daughter, and it was more than the usual song and dance of “my father doesn’t believe in me” that usually plagued her. No, this was different. Lucifer seemed on edge. She wasn’t blind to the criticism that surrounded her father, day in and day out. Being the most popular politician was a double-edged sword; criticism and fame went hand in hand. Lucifer had to deal with a lot of criticism and downright dirty words said about him, but after all these years, he never let any of it affect him.

That was what bothered Charlie–something affected Lucifer. She didn’t want to see her father so shaken up. She had a feeling that it had to do with Adam Evans.

Alastor probably knows about him, it’s his job to be informed in all things politics. And all things your father does, apparently.

Yes, she would ask Alastor about Lucifer tonight. They never agreed when they’d meet up next, but he told her to call him after her shift and when she got to the center for work.

“Just get through the shift,” Charlie muttered. She mustered up her conviction and took Lucifer's fresh cup of coffee.

~*~*~*~

Charlie knew she had to rush to the center before Husk so she could explain the security situation. She was in such a rush to leave the cafe by the end of her shift that she nearly forgot Husk’s cup of coffee. She made it to the bus stop with five minutes to spare. “Phew,” Charlie exhaled. Today was a big day; Alastor arranged for professionals to come out and check out the building. She didn’t want to ask who was paying for it, she certainly didn’t, but she would find a way to ask Alastor how much he ended up spending for these people. She couldn’t let him take up the expense all by himself.

A black SUV pulled up beside Charlie like it was a bus. The passenger window rolled down. “Miss Morningstar?”

Charlie got up from her bench seat. “Dad sent you?”

“He said to offer you a lift. You’re free to decline, ma’am.”

Once upon a time, she would have declined the offer that her father outstretched to her. But she had already asked him for help with security, what was the harm in accepting one more resource? It would put her at the rehab center nice and early.

“Sure,” Charlie said. She opened the passenger door and plopped into the sleek leathered seat. “I appreciate it.” The driver nodded. All of Lucifer’s men were the same; black suits, black ties, and politeness. They tended not to say much, which used to make her uncomfortable as a child. Now, not so much. “Can I put on the radio?” she asked.

“Of course.”

What did she expect, him to tell her no? Charlie pushed the on button.

“Say you can’t sleep, baby I know, that’s that me espresso”

“What station is this? Is this what dad listens to?” Charlie asked with a smile.

“He says this is his ‘main pop girlies’ station,” the driver replied. “Whatever that means.”

Charlie laughed. She hoped that she’d see her dad soon.

Notes:

Hahahahahaha well I WROTE THAT sure did lol. My version of Lucifer listens to Sabrina Carpenter, don't ask me to explain lmao. The prompt of Alastor letting Charlie see his Radio Demon side in sex bounced around in my head for awhile. I know there are different flavors of Alastor on ao3 (and they all make me WEAK) but I wanted to try my version of his "darker" side. Just testing the waters here, idk xD He's a complex character, it's been very enjoyable to deep dive into my interpretation of him.

Once again sinners, thank you so much for reading and the continued support <3

Chapter 10

Summary:

The week progresses for Charlie and Alastor, who are now girlfriend and boyfriend. How long until that blows up?

Niffty didn’t have classes on that Tuesday. She didn’t know who would be at the center that day other than Charlie. Vaggie was a toss up, she either worked or she didn’t, and Angel’s work schedule was uncertain. The young woman was pleased to see Husk’s car parked. She also spotted two new cars, big black SUVs with blacked out windows.

“The secret service is here?” Niffty asked. Her intrigue peaked and she skipped to the front entrance. A tall man in a black suit and sunglasses stood at the door. “Who are you?” Niffty asked.

“Security, ma’am. What’s your name and business?” the guard asked.

“Why are you here?” Niffty asked instead.

“Just here doing my job, ma’am.”

Niffty grinned. “You’re here to catch bad boys?”

“Something like that.”

“How about bad girls?” Niffty normally wasn’t one to flirt so outright, but there was something about men in suits that made her brain go haywire. The security guard didn’t seem to entertain it and didn’t answer her question. Niffty rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m Niffty.”

The guard stepped aside. “You’re on the list, go ahead and enter Miss Niffty.”

She was dumbfounded and stood still in her spot. “I-wha-huh? Whose list?”

“Miss Morningstar’s list, ma’am.”

“Huh.” Niffty stepped inside the center. The guard kept his back to her, instead focusing on the outside. “So like, if I were a bad girl, would you chase me?” Niffty asked, grinning.

“Not how that works,” the guard replied. “Please leave.”

“Fine, whatever.” Niffty knew a losing battle. This guy may be hot, but they would never work. She stepped more into the lobby and found Husk sitting at the front reception chair, his feet propped up on the desk, a satisfied smirk on his face. Niffty followed his eyes and saw the tall guy from Consent mopping the tiled floor. It was Pentious, the one who followed Cherri around like a sick puppy. He was handcuffed and awkwardly held the mop as he dutifully performed his chore.

There was something about men in suits that made Niffty’s brain go haywire, but there was something about men in handcuffs that made her absolutely feral. After all, only bad boys got handcuffed, right?

“What’s he doing here?” Niffty asked Husk.

“Working,” Husk answered simply. “And I’m trying to get some beauty sleep.”

“I’m not sure a nap will help you much.”

Husk rolled his eyes. “It’s an expression.”

Niffty crossed her arms. “I want to know what’s going on! Why is the secret service here, why is Pentious handcuffed, and where is Charlie?”

Husk sighed. He truly felt his age when he spoke to Niffty. “Charlie is upstairs with the plumbing crew, they’re here to check the building’s pipes. The secret service works for the president, stupid girl, these guys are security workers brought in by Charlie’s dad. And Pentious is serving his time for breaking our window with a brick, ain’t that right, Pentious?”

With his name said, Pentious looked up from the spot he mopped. He was quite focused on his task at hand. “Yessss,” Pentious agreed.

“Why is he handcuffed?” Niffty asked.

“So the perp doesn’t escape,” Husk answered.

“Why would he escape?”

“Because thisssss is against my will,” Pentious hissed.

“Because I don’t trust you, dirty little crime boy,” Husk growled.

Niffty’s eyes widened. “Hold on, stop, wait, shut the door… are you telling me that Pentious is a… bad boy?”

Husk didn’t like the unhinged gleam in Niffty’s eyes. Then again, he didn’t think he ever saw her hinged in the first place. “Yeah,” he replied.

Niffty’s movements were sporadic as she practically jumped onto Pentious. She began giggling like a schoolgirl who was told a dirty joke for the first time. Pentious hunched forward when she clung to his shoulders. “I-uh-I beg your pardon?!” he asked.

“Do you want to see my plant?” Niffty asked with glee.

“Is that code for something or do you actually have a plant?”

“Why not both?”

Niffty’s giggle was so loud it was heard through the entire building. It wouldn’t surprise Husk if the hospital next door could hear her. Husk shook his head. There was no taking a nap at this point. He better start reading his novel. Young love was so bothersome sometimes.

~*~*~*~

“I’m surprised the plumbing isn’t shot with how old everything is,” the plumber said to his partner.

Charlie was pleased to hear it and couldn’t help the sigh in relief. While the two men did their inspection, she lingered close to them but kept a respectful distance. Truthfully, this was her first time overseeing any kind of inspection done by a professional. She wasn’t sure what the protocol was other than to be available for any questions or to show them where something was. Charlie was pretty pleased with how the day ended up. Husk wasn’t upset at the idea of the security, in fact, he seemed just as relieved to have the extra help as her. He still had the poor Pentious fellow handcuffed and Charlie made a mental note to address that (whatever that was) at a later time.

She had checked in with Angel and he said he was doing fine. Vaggie said she’d come over on her lunch break and that she’d be off tomorrow to hangout, and Niffty said she’d be able to come over at some point. While all this was happening, at least Charlie didn’t have to worry about any safety issues thanks to her dad’s security.

The two plumbers were upstairs so Charlie decided to go into her office and do some work with the door left open. It was 3:45 on the dot. Alastor texted her a heart emoji when she told him that she was at the center with security. She knew that phones and anything electronic eluded him and that texting was not his first choice of communicating, so for him to send her a heart was a bigger deal than it seemed. She sighed as she sat down in her office chair at her desk. Alastor was working on his show, undoubtedly going over notes with Rosie, and this was his busiest time of day. Still, she missed him.

“You’re always so clingy,” Charlie whispered to herself. Even if she didn’t think so, Vaggie and Angel told her enough times that it had to be true. “It’s not a bad thing to think about him, right?” Charlie asked the empty room. “So what if he’s on my mind? He’s my boyfriend!”

Just saying it out loud made her grin like a lovestruck idiot. Charlie gushed in her seat and felt the flush in her face. It had been so long since she had a boyfriend, let alone a relationship! She missed it. She missed having someone to direct her affection to. Sure, she was plenty affectionate to her friends with hugs and platonic couch cuddles, but this was different. This wasn’t innocent. This was romance, affection, and lust all wrapped together, all emotions that she could put into one man–Alastor.

She thought about their first kiss in her office, when he pushed her into the desk and consumed her mouth with his own. Fuck, that was hot. It already felt like ages ago, but she knew everything happened relatively quickly.

If everyone found out–no, not if–when everyone found out that they’re dating, Charlie imagined the biggest criticism would be how short of a time they knew each other. Well, one of the biggest criticisms. She thought back to last night, when Alastor seemed so insistent that he was a bad guy. Something about it didn’t sit right with her. Perhaps he was allowing his low self-esteem to shine through, or perhaps it was his Radio Demon speaking and he wanted to scare her away. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? He was probably a bit scared himself, given how little experience he had in dating.

Charlie sat with her feelings. She should have opened her laptop to get work done, but she sat there with the lid closed and her eyes fixated on a random spot in her office. All she saw were Alastor’s dark eyes behind his glasses:

“I don’t have the best track record.”

She could always find out. Her laptop was right there, just one google search away. She’d already looked up his dating history and found his hidden relationship with Mimzy. She was one google search away from knowing what history the Radio Demon has about his opinions and politics.

Charlie decided against it. Yes, there were things that Alastor said that she didn’t agree with. He didn’t believe that people could really change, he said so himself. His takes were always harsh, he seemed to have little faith in things going right, and he always thought the worst of people. He was a nihilist, pessimist, he had a mean streak, and he loved it when people argued with him. She’d listened to his show a handful of times in the past to know that much.

But that was the Radio Demon. That wasn’t Alastor. She was dating Alastor, her boyfriend was not the Radio Demon. She didn’t believe that the same sweet man who painted the graffiti outside to surprise her, who let her stay at his home, who was so sweet and thoughtful to her, was the fake side of Alastor. It was him… he just had the Radio Demon persona inside of him, too.

Charlie thought about when she first met Alastor in his office. What screamed out to her about him the most wasn’t his cocky attitude. He seemed lonely. She sensed it the moment she stepped in and met his eyes. He was a lonely man with a big grin to hide it behind.

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Or maybe a lonely heart recognized another lonely heart. Charlie had always felt lonely, ever since she was a child. Lucifer always had to work, and although he tried to be as present as his schedule would allow, it would conflict with any plans that Lilith made. Lilith was a distant mother. While her father loved her with a fiery intensity, her mother loved her from afar, with a cold but well-meaning sentiment. Lucifer’s fire and Lilith’s ice didn’t meld well for Charlie. Her childhood was filled with after school activities to keep her out of the house and dinners alone at the kitchen table with the nannies. The pattern didn’t change much when she got into high school, then her parents separated. The press from Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar’s separation made Charlie’s life a living hell.

There. The feeling that she couldn’t put her finger on earlier at the cafe, she found it in her office. When Adam Evans was brought up, Charlie felt uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t explain. She thought it was because she saw her dad on edge, which certainly contributed to it, but now in the solace of her own company she understood that wasn’t it.

Charlie was taken back to junior year of high school. Lucifer was running up against Adam Evans for a spot on city council and voting day was only a week away. Lucifer was a younger, different man back then. He was much more aggressive with his campaigning, Charlie remembered how much he wanted to win. If he won the council seat he had so many ideas to change the city, starting with funding schools to support children in poverty and help make education more attainable. Charlie remembered coming home from school and listening to her father practice his speeches in his office with his team; she was always so intrigued to overhear his ideals and ambitions.

Lucifer always used to tell Charlie not to pay attention to his name in the public. He told her not to take anything she heard personally and not to get too invested in who ran against him, including Adam. “You’ve gotta live your own life, sweetie, don’t let your dad’s job get you down,” he used to say when she was a child. But as a teenager, Charlie’s curiosity was much more peaked. She would listen to the kids at school who parroted their parents and said that Adam Evans was better for the city. She would read every article that was posted about her father, she’d read every interview that Adam had.

It upset her, Lucifer was right about that. How could she not take it personally? That was her father that Adam was calling incompetent and pathetic! Adam was such a prick, how could he make it so personal?

The tension at the house didn’t register for Charlie until it was too late. Maybe if she hadn’t let herself get so involved in her father’s run, she would have noticed how little she saw her mother. She would have picked up on the empty house, the late nights Lucifer spent in his office or out with his team. Charlie’s only interaction at home was with the chauffeur who took her to school and the maid whose job was to make sure she had food to eat. As a teenager, that meant having a prepackaged meal ready for the microwave or oven.

Charlie hadn’t thought about the morning of the day her mother left in awhile. A long, long, long while. She once read someone compare physical wounds to emotional wounds. If you broke your arm in third grade, your arm wouldn’t hurt just thinking about it as an adult once the injury healed. But emotional wounds were so much deeper; it didn’t matter how long Charlie suppressed it, the moment she thought about it, the memory came back in crystal clear clarity, as if she had thought about it yesterday.

Lucifer’s pained cry in the middle of the night; Charlie running to his bedroom door and trying to get in only to find that he locked it; Lucifer assuring her that nothing was wrong, it was just a nightmare; Charlie going to school with a pit in her stomach; seeing the news on in the gymnasium with the big bold headlines:

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR DROPS OUT OF RACE AFTER WIFE LEAVES HIM!

How fucked up was it that Charlie found out about her parents’ separation from a news headline? Very fucked up, in her opinion. And to twist the knife, she saw Adam on the podium, giving a shit-eating grin to the audience. He won as city councilman.

“I wanna thank everyone for the support!” Adam told the crowd. He chuckled and with a grin said, “But I guess the one I should really thank is Lilith Morningstar! Who might be Lilith Magne soon, if she goes back to her maiden name. Bets on, I give it a month!”

Charlie slammed her fist down on her desk. Her movement was so abrupt and loud that it caused her hung up picture frame to fall off its hook and hit the ground. It was the first time she put her full force into, well, anything.

“You alright, little missy?” the plumber called from down the hall.

“Peachy!” Charlie growled.

She couldn’t believe that she forgot about Adam Evans. He was the beginning of the end for her life at home. Her mother left, her father fell apart, and seventeen year old Charlie discovered just how fucking lonely she could really be.

Charlie forced herself to the present. Her hands shook with adrenaline and nerves as she brought them up to either side of her head. She covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes. “Ten… nine… eight… seven…”

She felt selfish to say that she was lonely, but it was true. How could she be lonely when she had friends like Vaggie, Angel, and Niffty? How could she explain that it wasn’t a slight to them, that she loved them very much, but it didn’t stop the ache from deep within her. She loved her friends so much. There were moments in her life when her friends were her only lifeline. She’d known Vaggie since elementary school; she met Angel when she was a freshman in high school. They were there for her when her family collapsed on itself. If she didn’t have them, she didn’t think she’d be able to go on in life.

But the truth was the truth, plain and simple. They didn’t fill the void inside of her.

Alastor did.

Charlie buried her face into her desk. She felt the tears coming on. God, she was such a loser for getting so choked up over this. For thinking about old wounds that held no productivity, for letting her anger get the better of her, for essentially undoing herself with her own stupid thoughts!

She allowed herself the luxury of silently crying into her desk.

Ding!

A text. Charlie checked her phone lock screen to see who sent her a message.

Would you like to get dinner after my show? I can pick you up, –Sincerely, Alastor

It didn’t matter that the tears streamed down her cheeks, Charlie couldn’t help but laugh that he signed his own text message like it was an email. Did he realize that she already knew that it was him when she saved him as a contact in her phone? It was hard to tell what exactly he comprehended when it came to technology.

And just like that, a little ray of sunshine poked through her dark cloud. Charlie wiped her tears on her shoulder and texted Alastor back that she’d love dinner with him. Just to be cheeky, she signed her text Yours truly, Charlie. Whether he understood her teasing or not, he’d hopefully enjoy reading it.

She hoped that one day he would let his grin drop and let her see what he was really feeling underneath. Then, maybe, he wouldn’t feel alone at all.

“Hey, Charlie?” a new voice asked. Niffty stood at her office doorway. She saw that her dear friend was crying. “Oh no, what happened?” Niffty asked with immediate concern.

“Nothing,” Charlie assured. Without saying a word, Niffty quickly ran across the room and hugged Charlie while she was still in her office chair. Hugs from Niffty were rare, she wasn’t as touchy-feely as the others. It was a shame, because Niffty gave some of the best hugs. She squeezed Charlie tight and the blonde smiled and squeezed her back. “Thanks, Niffty.”

~*~*~*~

Alastor thought that he did a superb show. It was filled with his predictions about the race for mayor against Lucifer and Adam, and in the last half of the show, Alastor had the opportunity to really turn up the heat and argue with his callers:

“You sir, just spoke for seven minutes straight, I had enough time to light a cigarette and smoke it, and I still don’t know what your fucking point is. Have you ever heard the term ‘less is more’ or were you raised to believe that the louder you talked the more in control you seemed?”

“I’m surprised you know what the word authoritarian means, how about you really impress the class and spell it for me, big boy? Because you clearly can’t use it properly in a sentence.”

“Oh, and you read the policies word for word? I hope your reading comprehension is better than your listening comprehension, you’re hardly an auditory learner.”

Those were just a few examples of the Radio Demon at the height of his debates. When the show ended, Alastor felt like he had just run ten miles. It had been awhile since he could really dig in and do what he loved most–argue.

“Whew! Someone is on fire!” Rosie commented from her producer chair. She grinned. “I haven’t seen you that sassy in awhile, Al!”

He rolled his eyes but kept the grin on his face. Of course she would call his finest work “sassy” in her usual Rosie way.. “I pissed some people off, that’s for sure,” he said. “How much do you want to bet the guy from uptown will call back for round two tomorrow? He was quite rustled, I must say. I really ruffled his feathers, if I do say so myself.” Alastor laughed and sat back in his chair.

Rosie put a few papers together and turned off her equipment in her room. She walked into his main office with her headphones still around her neck. “I know this is your spiel,” she began. “But why do I feel like you were extra ornery today?”

“I don’t have any idea what you mean, Rosie.” He still grinned. He wasn’t going to let her ruin this for him.

She lifted her hands in mock surrender. “Are you perhaps compensating for someone?”

His mouth twitched. “Excuse me?”

How does she know? How does she always fucking know I swear, she always figures it out! She can’t just mind her business!

Rosie didn’t miss the falter in his grin. “You’re very careful when you talk about Lucifer Morningstar,” she said. It wasn’t an accusation, it was a statement of fact, one that he could either agree or deny.

Alastor showed his teeth. “I’m sorry, this isn’t the Lucifer Show. Last I checked, the Radio Demon could talk about whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm. “Surely you knew this would create a problem.”

He sneered. “I didn’t think it would happen so soon! Lucifer showed up out of nowhere!”

“Well, you should talk to Charlie about it.”

Alastor crossed his arms. The wind was out of his sails, his mood was soured like milk. “How do you know I wasn’t already going to talk with her?”

Rosie went back to her office to do some more cleaning up. “Just a hunch, Al. You’re not exactly a heart-to-heart kind of guy. Not willingly, anyway.” She poked her head up and looked at him through her producer room window. “I’m not saying you’re wrong! I think it’s sweet that you’re switching up your show dynamic for the sake of your girlfriend!”

“How did you know she’s my girlfriend?!”

Rosie grinned. “You just confirmed it for me. Gotchaaaaa!”

Alastor sighed and spun his chair so his back was to her. “Infuriating woman,” he muttered.

How was his talk with Charlie supposed to go, anyway? “Hey dear, is it okay if I continue to rip your father limb from limb for the sake of ratings? We can just taboo the work topic as a talking subject when we see each other for birthdays and holidays.”

Right.

“Let’s just say that it was you talking to her,” Alastor said as he reached for his last cigarette. “What would you say to her? Knowing that she obviously has a rocky relationship with her father to begin with but seems to care about his opinion, for reasons you don’t understand.”

It was good that Alastor had his back to her, because Rosie was never good at hiding her victory grins. “If it were me dating Charlie,” Rosie began. “I’d take her on a proper date.”

“Rosie!”

“Yes, fine! If it were me, Al, I’d begin by reminding her that my entire radio show was based around the politics of the city. That it was my job to be opinionated. I’d tell her that given her father’s line of work, it was inevitable that he was a topic for my show. Which means that you two need to set…” Rosie purposely trailed off, hoping Alastor would finish her sentence.

“Set the table?” Alastor blurted out, unsure.

“No! You fool! Set some boundaries!”

He spun his chair so fast that his cigarette almost went out. “Boundaries?” he repeated. “Is this some gibberish you’ve picked up from your silly romcoms?”

It was Rosie’s turn to sneer. “No, this is a widely used term for grown adults in relationships. Boundaries, Alastor. I’d tell you to google it, but I don’t think your phone has a web browser. You need to find out from Charlie what she’s comfortable with when you discuss Lucifer, because it’s impossible for you not to. She will either work with you on it or she won’t.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“Well, I hate to say it, but that should have been discussed before you two started dating. Just saying. But I get it, when one is caught in the throes of passion, how can one fight it?” Rosie shrugged. Alastor made a face and pensively smoked his cigarette. It was his version of pouting. Rosie sighed and tapped her window so he would look at her. “For what it’s worth, Al, I thought you had a strong show today. And you did it without ripping Lucifer Morningstar’s name to shreds. Don’t give up hope yet.”

“Ha! Hope.” Alastor stood up from his office chair and put his cigarette out on his ashtray. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Without giving Rosie a chance to say goodnight, Alastor used his long strides to make quick work of leaving the office. It was hard to tell if slamming the door on his way out was intentional or not.

Rosie sighed. She didn’t even have the chance to warn Alastor about Adam Evans tomorrow. “Ah well, it would have made his bad mood worse,” she said. She didn’t think about it again that evening.

~*~*~*~

There was something off about Charlie when he picked her up that evening. She was chipper when she got in his car and smiled her usual smile, but this time, the joy didn’t touch her eyes. If anyone knew the art of smiling without being happy, it was the Radio Demon.

“Did you see your friends today?” Alastor asked.

“Niffty came over for the afternoon. Vaggie visited on her lunch break, she’ll be off work tomorrow so we’ll get more time. Angel worked but texted me. Husk keeps bringing Pentious around and I had to distract Niffty so she’d leave him alone. I can’t tell if Pentious realizes that Husk can’t really force him to do anything against his will or not.”

Alastor already forgot who Pentious was and truthfully didn’t care. “I see,” he said. “Husk texted me about the plumbing inspection, and it seems we got a good report back.”

Charlie perked up a bit at that. “Great! I can’t imagine how much of a headache it would be to tear out the old pipes and install new plumbing. Thank you for setting that up.”

“Of course. All this week I have inspectors coming out. We’re almost through with phase one, are we not?”

He remembered when she told him the phases of her plan. “We are,” Charlie said. “I can’t believe it. Do you know how long I’ve been stuck on phase one? Awhile! I felt like I was never going to get ahead, it was always one disaster after another. We’re so close to getting the building up to code.”

Alastor smiled and kept his eyes forward on the road. “Charlie, did you want to spend the night at my place?”

She smiled at the offer. “I’d love to.”

“I think we need to come up with a schedule for the nights you want to spend at my place and the nights you go back to yours. My place is local and convenient for going to work and the center.”

“Good point, I agree.” Charlie looked down at her hands.

From the corner of his eye, Alastor watched her fidget his fingers on her lap. It was obvious that something was on her mind. If he had more experience as a boyfriend/lover, he might have a better idea of whether to stay quiet and let her open up to him organically, or to ask her what was on her mind. If the roles were reversed and it were him, he’d want to bring up his problems unprompted. He didn’t enjoy the questions.

“You know, I still intend to take you on a proper date,” Alastor said, breaking the silence that lapsed between them. “I know I’m a far cry from a gentleman at this point, but how about Friday evening? I won’t give anything away, but you’ll have an excuse to dress up.”

She looked up from her lap and at him. “I’d love that very much.”

He took one hand off the steering wheel and reached out to take her smaller hand in his. He gave her hand a squeeze. “Good. Now, as for tonight, I get the feeling you need a quiet evening, hmm? How about you relax on the couch while I make us some red beans and rice? Forgive me for my corn bread, it’s from a box mix.”

Finally, her smile touched her eyes. Just for a moment, he made her happy. His heart did a somersault in his chest. “I’d love that, Al,” Charlie said. She squeezed his hand back and interlaced their fingers. They held hands for the rest of the drive back to his apartment. When Alastor parked in his resident spot and turned the car off, neither of them moved. They sat in the cool silence of the evening and held hands.

~*~*~*~

Alastor woke up with a small start.

He didn’t have many dreams. The few dreams he had he remembered, and over his lifetime, there were only three that stayed with him in his psyche. The dream of his father calling to him from the bedroom window when he was a child. The dream of his mother asking him to give Mimzy a chance, that she just wanted her baby boy to have someone in life. And, most painfully, the one where he stood at his grandmother’s grave in the cemetery by the swamp. “Everyone dies in the end,” his grandmother’s voice told him in his dream. “So why stop smoking? Enjoy the vices of life while you have it.”

Each dream, admittedly, felt like a nightmare.

However, this one didn’t feel like a nightmare at all. Dare he say it, it actually felt like he dreamed for once. All he could remember was golden hair, soft kisses, and gentle brushes of fingertips. It was a sweet rapture.

Alastor was immediately made aware of everything that surrounded him; he was spread out on his couch with his feet on the cushions, still in the living room, light jazz music playing in the background, only one lamp in the corner was on, and oh yes, Charlie was asleep on top of him. Her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck so sweetly. Carefully, Alastor checked the time on his wristwatch.

2:02 in the morning.

The last thing he remembered was reading his novel on the couch while she read one of his murder mystery books. They both must have fallen asleep, he had no idea when. He didn’t even take off his glasses. Alastor wrestled with the idea of carrying her to the bedroom, let alone getting up to fetch her a blanket. He decided that he couldn’t do it, Charlie was too comfortable and in too deep of a slumber. She looked so peaceful on top of him, like her body knew exactly what to do to make herself comfortable atop of him.

Alastor sighed and wrapped his arms around her. In the quiet of the evening and the tranquility of his mind, he thought about what Rosie had told him yesterday:

“You’re not exactly a heart-to-heart kind of guy. Not willingly, anyway.”

I’ll figure this out, darling, he thought to himself. For now, this was the time to sleep. He bent his head down and kissed the soft skin of Charlie’s forehead, the spot where her bangs weren’t covering. The next time they made love couldn’t come soon enough, but for now, this was plenty. He had Charlie asleep in his arms, safe and sound. What more could he ask for?

“Al,” Charlie murmured in her sleep. She nuzzled her face further into his neck.

He smiled and leaned his head back on the couch to try and sleep. It didn’t take long.

~*~*~*~

“I’m telling ya, these were the perfect pair of tits. I couldn’t believe my eyes, I should have married the broad on the spot. This was five years ago, right, Lute? Five or six years ago?”

“Five, sir.”

“Nah, I think it was six. Six years ago, and I still remember those two knockers like it was yesterday. Haven’t seen a pair of American tits to compete since. This was Canada, can you believe it?”

The man speaking laughed and leaned back in his seat. The poor hair and makeup artist had no idea what to say back to him other than laugh at his crude remarks. All of this was brought on when she asked him if she could pin his mic on the breast pocket of his shirt.

Adam Evans was an attractive man. Not as old as Lucifer, but not as far behind, either. He was six feet, short cut brunette hair, and instead of keeping a clean shaven face, he opted for a well-kept goatee. He looked like a nice young man–until he opened his mouth. Adam was in the Seven Rings Radio Station that Wednesday morning to get ready for his interview on VoxNews.

Lute, his campaign manager, was a woman in her late twenties. Sometimes she looked like she was mid-forties, given the nature of her job and who she worked for. She was the opposite of Adam as far as appearances were concerned; Adam looked like your fun, frat-boy uncle who sneaked you a beer because you’re his favorite. Lute looked like the stressed out college student who was one year in and already over 100k in debt, who would yell at you for moving her purse to make room to sit down. As far as looks were concerned, the two couldn’t be anymore opposite.

Looks were deceiving.

“Okay,” the makeup artist said, trying to hide her nerves. “Mr. Evans, would you like me to apply some blush?”

“He only uses hypoallergenic products,” Lute answered.

“O-okay, I’ve got some.”

“You’re not putting your used makeup products on his face that you’ve put on who knows how many other faces before him,” Lute growled.

“Yeah, ew,” Adam jeered from his seat.

Lute waved off the makeup artist. “I’ll handle it from here. If you want to earn your paycheck, go get us some coffee. He’ll take a double espresso, eight sugars, four cream, and whipped cream. I’ll take mine black but don’t give me those stupid fucking flimsy-ass styrofoam cups.”

The makeup artist stared at them incredulously. “I’m not a temp,” she muttered.

Lute and Adam exchanged looks. “Waaaah, I’m not a temp,” Adam mocked, making his voice high-pitched. “Big tit lady from Canada would have never bitched.”

“Do you want a job?” Lute asked. “You don’t think you’re replaceable? I’m sure your boss would love to hear your unwillingness to work with us. And by ‘us’ I mean Adam Evans, bitch. Eight sugars, four cream, no styrofoam. Now.”

The makeup artist scurried off in embarrassed defeat. Adam laughed as he watched her leave. “I love it when they try to stand up for themselves,” he grinned. “Then I get to see you rip them apart.”

Lute allowed herself to smile. She brushed Adam’s hair to the side, just the way she liked it. “Thank you, sir.”

~*~*~*~

From across the room, Velvette couldn’t help but smirk as she watched Adam and Lute tear down the makeup artist. “They’re like how we used to be,” Velvette said to Vox. He sat beside her for his makeup session before his show.

“Who, what?” he asked, looking up from his phone.

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Forget it. We were never like them, we’ve always had Valentino as our third.” She shook her head, “More like I was the third.”

Vox shot her a glance. “I dunno what you’re on, but you should chill.” Velvette was at the studio to get a show of what Adam Evans was really about. It was her business to be in the know of every big name of the city. She was very interested to get a front row seat to see what the politician was like. She’d heard rumors about his crass behind-the-scenes nature, and after hearing about his favorite pair of big titties, she had no trouble believing it.

Adam Evans was born from money. His father owned an oil refinery, taken over from his grandfather, who took it over from his grandfather, who started the oil refinery. The Evans family had been in New Orleans for generations. It made sense that one of the Evans men would pursue politics. It was a security measure, Velvette was sure, that the family would have more ties and more stocks in the city. One look at the Evans man and she knew that power and status was very important to him. Probably important to their entire family.

Why the Evans family thought that Adam was their best candidate, Velvette had no idea. Maybe it was his objective good looks. But beauty only got you so far before people saw that you had no brains.

“Okay, going over there. Anything in my teeth?”

Velvette looked at Vox’s ridiculously white and straight teeth. “No, you fucking shark,” she said. He grinned at that and straightened his suit jacket. Velvette watched Vox walk across the room to greet his guests.

“Welcome, welcome! I hope the staff has been accommodating,” Vox said.

Adam and Lute looked up at him like he just interrupted them. “I’d fire half your staff, honestly,” Adam said. “I’m sure they do their job, whatever, but they’re fucking ugly. I’ve never seen so many ugly faces in all of my fucking life.”

Vox’s grin went away. “I, uh…”

Adam laughed. “Whatever! We can’t all be good looking! I should thank you for the way you look, compared to you I look like a goddamn supermodel.”

“That’s for sure,” Lute agreed.

“Are you calling me ugly?” Vox asked.

“Ugly? Nah. You’re average, middle of the road. Just like your stupid fucking show. You think people watch VoxNews because it’s their top pick? Nah bro, they watch VoxNews because it’ll do as background noise while they cook dinner for their kids. You’re the most boring motherfucker I’ve ever met.”

Vox wasn’t usually the one who was made fun of. The majority of his criticism was online and he could choose not to read it. But this was to his face, said by a man with more money and ties to the city than he could ever hope for. Adam Evans could get him fired and replaced and in one month’s time. People would ask, “Vox who?”

Adam knew it. Vox knew it. And that’s why Adam knew he could be such a piece of shit. The look in his eyes dared him to stand up to him:

Come on, asshole, what do you have to say?

Vox couldn’t do it.

“If you think I’m so average, why are you going on my show?” he asked. The defeat in his voice was obvious.

Adam snickered in victory. “I’m doing you a favor, duh! C’mon man, I don’t hate you. It’s not your fault you’re ugly, it’s your mommy and daddy’s fault for thinking they could make a baby together and he would look good. You’re just a victim of a bad call, my dude. But hey, you do your best! Right Lute? He does his best!”

Lute didn’t look up from her phone. “Go Vox,” she said, distracted.

Vox didn’t know what to say. “You–we–the show. We’re on in twenty minutes. Do you want to go over any talking points?”

“We’re gonna talk about me, that’s it,” Adam said. “Nah, why don’t we freestyle the show, it’ll keep things interesting. You’re welcome, by the way, for increasing your ratings.”

Vox hid his hands behind his back so Adam couldn’t see him make a fist. “Sure,” he said through gritted teeth. Oh, he was definitely going out drinking tonight. Vox began to back away from them, counting down from ten in his head to calm down.

“Oh, and Vox?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve gotta take responsibility, bro. It’s your fault you’re ugly.”

“Sure, Adam.”

Before Adam Evans could really dig in (because that was his thing, making people feel like absolute shit), the doors to the makeup room opened and Frank skittered in. “Where’s the fire, egghead?” Adam asked with a mocking laugh.

Frank looked panicked when he turned to Adam. “I did what you said sir, but I think he figured out this was a ruse.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Vox barked.

Frank turned to his boss. “Mr. Evans told me to bring Alastor d-down here! So I lied and told him that our district manager wanted to hold a meeting in the makeup room!”

“Why the fuck would the district manager hold a meeting in here?” Vox and Adam asked at the same time.

Frank wiped a stray tear from his face. “It was the only thing I could think of!”

The approaching footsteps was the only warning before Alastor walked into the studio’s makeup room. “Alright Vox, if you really wanted to waste my time, you could have come to the eighth floor. Making Frank do your dirty work is a waste of both our times, wouldn’t you agree?”

Alastor had just finished his show. He didn’t have time for his post-show cigarette before Frank came up and repeatedly knocked on his office door to get him down to the third floor. Rosie happened to be in the women’s restroom (she had to pee the entire show and once the on-air light went off, she practically danced her way to the bathroom). Alastor had another killer show and was in a good mood just like the day before, so he decided to entertain whatever stupid idea Vox had for him.

However, when Alastor stepped into the makeup room, he saw Vox with a surprised look on his face. As if he had nothing to do with sending Frank up there in a farce frenzy. Alastor had enough time to understand that this wasn’t Vox’s doing before a new voice confirmed his suspicions.

“Actually, Frank was doing my dirty work,” Adam said. He stood up and stood a few feet in front of Alastor. “Sorry for the ruse, I know relationships aren’t established on lies, but from what I hear, you’re a hard man to get a hold of. I’m Adam Evans, I wanted to meet you personally before I go on Vox’s circle-jerk show.”

Adam held his hand out to be shook. Alastor looked at it and then looked in his eyes. “My hands aren’t clean,” he said with a grin.

“Ah, germophobe. Makes sense, you always look so well-kept and clean in your public appearances.” Adam put his hand down. “There’s a lot I want to talk about but not a lot of time.”

“What could be so important that you needed a lie in order to get me down here?” Alastor asked.

“You and I have a common enemy, Radio Demon. Lucifer Morningstar. I think if we teamed up, we could bury that munchkin in the ground so deep that he’d never see the light of day again.”

Alastor’s grin remained but it was all teeth. “I think I’ll pass,” he said through gritted teeth.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Oh come on! You’re telling me no? Listen bro, I’m sure you’re aware of this, but I’m fucking Adam Evans. Okay? If I really wanted to, I could bury your little Radio Demon show. I could bury all of you, actually. I’d just need to pull a few strings and goodbye Seven Rings Radio, and hello Burger King, as in you’d ask me if I want a side of onion rings, you stupid fuck.”

The tensions in the room reached a new height. When Adam taunted Vox, Vox chose not to fight back. But Alastor wasn’t Vox, he was the Radio Demon, and he loved a reason to fight. Adam’s voice grew louder as he took shots at Alastor, and in return, the Radio Demon’s grin only widened with glee. “I’m glad you have something to smile about, you little bitch,” Adam snarled. “I’ll ask you one last time. If you team up with me, we can destroy Morningstar.”

“You think highly of yourself,” Alastor replied. His sinister tone of voice matched his grin which was all teeth. “You could pull a few strings and get this radio station shut down, sure. But in the meantime, I’m sure Vox and I could rip apart limb from limb on our platforms until you were just a helpless nub of a man.” Adam stared up at Alastor with pure vitriol. Alastor took a step forward and made sure that he used his height to his advantage. “Another thing, Evans, is that I don’t respond well to threats. I won’t do a goddamn thing with you.”

The two men stared each other down. Not a word was said by anyone else in the room, no one even dared to breathe.

Adam smirked. “I get it, I get it,” he said. “You took on a pity project with Lucifer’s cunt daughter and now you think you’re too good for everyone.”

Alastor’s left eye twitched from behind his glasses. “What did you just say?” he asked, his voice tight.

“I said, you took on a pity project with little miss goody-two-shoes, Lucifer’s cunt daughter spawn Charlie.” Adam grinned, thinking that he found a chip in Alastor’s armor.

Alastor closed his mouth but kept his same smile. He took a big inhale and a deep exhale. “Thank you, I just wanted to be sure I heard you correctly when you spoke about Charlie,” he said.

“T’chya, you mean Lucifer and Lilith’s ditzy little bit–”

BAM!

Adam never finished his thought; Alastor’s closed fist punched him in the mouth.

The room processed that Alastor hit Adam with a mixture of gasps and surprised screams.

Alastor didn’t stop at one, either. He punched Adam in the mouth first, then tackled him to the floor and began beating him senseless. “Holy shit!” Lute screamed, at the same time Vox cheered, “YEAH!”

This was not Adam Evans’s first time getting hit, and it most likely wouldn’t be his last. He was a man who loved to fight, his track record of getting thrown out of bars for being belligerent was quite impressive. Alastor had the upper hand in getting the first hit, but Adam recovered rather quickly. “You fucking asshat!” Adam roared. He got a few hits in on Alastor, and the two continued to hit, punch, and swing repeatedly at each other.

It had been a long time since Alastor fought so dirty and ruthlessly. The idea that he was doing this at work in front of his coworkers didn’t even occur to him. His brain went haywire when he heard Charlie’s name come out of that asshole’s mouth. And for Adam to call Charlie, his Charlie, a cunt? He would make sure that Adam couldn’t fucking walk.

“What the fuck!” Rosie cried. She finally figured out what the hell was happening and raced over to them. “Alastor, stop it!”

“Let them fight, it’s good for boys to be boys,” Lute said.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m more important than you.”

Rosie scowled. “Oh, I’m sure you are, bitch.” Just when things couldn’t get any worse, let alone more chaotic, Rosie saw that there were cameras rolling. “Hold on, this is getting filmed?!”

When the fist fight broke out, someone had to move fast. That someone was Velvette, who was always the first one to recover and take charge. She wasted no time getting a cameraman and grabbing a microphone. While Alastor and Adam pummeled each other in the background, Velvette faced the camera like any reporter would.

“Top of the hour, New Orleans! A fight has broken out between our very own local big names, Adam Evans, who was scheduled to be on VoxNews, and our own Seven Rings Station alumni, Radio Demon! It’s unclear what the fight was about, but I can definitely say that it was Alastor who threw the first punch. I’m handing the mic over to Vox, our man of the hour to guide you through the play by play.”

Velvette handed Vox the microphone. Vox, who still hadn’t recovered, stared wide-eyed at the camera. “Uhh, hey folks, are you seeing this? Violence! Massacre! Absolute chaos! All before our eyes!”

Rosie watched all of this unfold. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” she cried. She inserted herself into the fight between the two men. It was easier said than done, giving the flying elbows and fists. Rosie managed to grab Alastor by the shoulder and under the arm and she pulled him away from Adam before Alastor could land another hit. “Enough!” Rosie exclaimed.

Once Rosie inserted herself, Lute decided it was smart to do the same. She held back Adam, who was a bloody mess. Who was bloodier, it was tough to say, but Adam certainly wasn’t the same pretty boy he was twenty minutes ago. He spit a wad of blood on the floor beside him. “This isn’t over, you piece of shit!”

Alastor’s grin returned with sinister glee. “I hope not!”

~*~*~*~

Across town, at the rehab center, Husk, Vaggie, Niffty, Angel, Pentious, and Charlie all squeezed together to watch Alastor beat the shit out of Adam on VoxNews live. Adam Evans and Radio Demon were trending; everyone was talking about it.

“Holy shit,” Vaggie said.

“Holy shit,” Angel said.

“Holy shit,” Niffty, Pentious, and Husk said.

Charlie felt like her heart dropped to her stomach. She watched as Rosie dragged Alastor away from Adam. He was bloodied and his glasses were broken, but it was hard to tell how much of the blood was his, if any of it. “Alastor!” Charlie screamed into the screen.

This was bad.

Really bad.

Notes:

Phew, got that chapter done and done! I can't explain what it was like to write Adam, it was both oddly fun to write such a scumbag character, yet at the same time, I felt guilty for my poor fictional story souls xD My poor babies lol

Thank y'all for the comments and kudos, I appreciate reading it so much. This story has taken on a life I didn't expect it to, I never thought I'd be 10 chapters into a story! I think it's roughly halfway done (???) it's hard to say because I have plot points but I have yet to decide how to split them up by chapter.

Thank you for reading <3

Chapter 11

Summary:

Adam and Alastor get into a fist fight that is recorded live on Vox News. What happens next?

Vaggie felt like she hadn’t had a day off in ten years. It drove her crazy at first to drive to the hospital for work and then to drive to the same parking lot for the rehab center, but after all the months, she felt accustomed to the drive. She’d given so much of her time to the hospital and her career, her hours dedicated as a nurse practitioner while she went to school for her bachelor’s degree. Clinicals, calls, patients, close calls, fatal calls, all of it… Vaggie had been through it.

She thought of what her medical director once told her when she was wiping blood off of her scrubs. “You’re an angel to these people, Vaggie,” he told her with a smile. His words often repeated in her mind. She was caught off guard when he told it to her, and her response was to just smile awkwardly and turn so he couldn’t see her flush.

But if she had been more composed (the less blood would have been ideal) she knew what she would tell her beloved boss:

“You haven’t met my friend Charlie.”

Some nurses were very good with bed manners for their patients. Vaggie had no doubt that if Charlie had ever pursued a medical career, that she would be the fearless nurse on the labor and delivery floor hyping up the nervous mothers and telling them what fantastic jobs they did, or making balloon animals for the kids, and she would undoubtedly know everyone’s birthday on every floor of the hospital.

That was Charlie.

Vaggie wondered what her friend would do if her rehabilitation project fell through. She felt awful for thinking it, because failure was not wanted, but it was the realist in Vaggie. She wasn’t like her best friend; she was more reserved, quiet, and composed. There were some ugly sides of nursing and it was this composed nature that got Vaggie through it. Sometimes she worried about Charlie when it came to the people who would come into the center. Everyone had good intentions to change, but it took more than a promise to do better. It took hard work, this was a battle that these people would have to fight for the rest of their lives.

However, in order to succeed, they needed a chance to fight it in the first place. That’s what Charlie was giving them–a fighting chance.

When Vaggie stepped into the rehab center on Wednesday, her first day off since Saturday when they painted, she saw she was the last to arrive at the party. Angel and Husk watched youtube videos on Angel’s phone (Angel leaned over the front desk counter in an almost inappropriate manner), Niffty watered her plant, and Charlie was absent, probably upstairs in her office. “What’s happening,” Vaggie greeted.

Niffty looked up from her plant. “Hey! We’re taking a break, we just got through moving out all the old furniture and cleaning up the rooms!”

Vaggie smiled. “Fantastic, everyone did great. Is Charlie in her off–ooohhh my God, Pentious?! Are you handcuffed?!”

She should have seen the tall young man sooner, but he was tucked in the corner of the room. He had a squeegee and wiped the windows down with great difficulty after spraying it with windex.

Vaggie eyed Husk and Angel. “Alright, what the fuck.”

Husk didn’t seem too bothered by her reaction. He looked up from Angel’s phone and regarded Vaggie with a casual shrug. “I keep waiting for him to realize that he’s not obligated to help. This is day three.”

“I’m not?” Pentious asked.

Husk laughed. “No, you idiot! Do you really think I can force you to come work for me day in and day out for throwing bricks at our window? That’s not legal. It’s forced servitude, which is frowned upon in society. If I had wanted justice I would have pursued you legally, I don’t have a leg to stand on to just make you come here and work.”

Angel couldn’t help but laugh like it was a joke. Husk certainly smirked like it was a joke. Vaggie tried to keep her composure but she couldn’t help the smile that tried to tug at the corner of her mouth. “So you’re telling me,” she began with a waver to her voice, “that for the past three days you’ve picked Pentious up and brought him here to work and he didn’t fight you at all? Didn’t argue with you, put up a fight, none of that? He just accepted it?!”

“I even texted him when I was coming over and he texted me back a thumbs up,” Husk grinned.

“Okay,” Vaggie said. “But why the handcuffs?”

Husk chuckled. “I dunno, I guess that one is on me. I kept waiting for him to question it or tell me no, but he just went along with it. You know I can’t keep you captive, right Pentious?”

Angel lost it. “You’re bad!” he howled in laughter.

Pentious stood stiff as a statue, the squeegee lowered in his hands. “Ssssssssooooo you mean I’m free? I’m not in debt?”

“No, baby girl,” Angel answered.

Husk shrugged. “If you wanna go you can go, sport. Thanks for all the hard work.”

“Can I at least get the cuffs taken off?”

“Sure buddy, see that red button in the middle of your cuffs? It releases them.” Husk grinned. He didn’t use a real pair of handcuffs on Pentious, he used an old trick pair he had from his private investigator days. Truthfully, it surprised him that in the three days that Pentious never wondered what the red button did, let alone try to push it.

Pentious hit the button. His cuffs popped off and his hands were freed once more. “Damn it,” Niffty whined.

All eyes were on the young man as they waited for him to make his next move. He stayed put in his spot for almost thirty seconds before turning and facing the others. “Well, I’d hate to have to clean one window when the rest of them are dirty,” he said. His eyes were on the floor in embarrassment. “And did you mean it when you said we could sssswing by Whataburger on our way home, Husk?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

Pentious shifted his weight from foot to foot. “This may come as a ssssurprissse to some of you,” he said. “But I don’t have a lot going on in my life at the moment.”

Angel gasped and flexed his acting skill as he feigned a shocked expression. “Pentious, really?” he asked. Vaggie shot him a side-eye glare.

Pentious sighed dramatically. “Yessss, it’s true. I’d like to keep the cuffs off from now on, but I don’t know… until something better comesss along, can I keep hanging out here?”

“You mean until Cherri calls you?” Angel asked.

He perked up at that. “You’ve heard from her?!”

“Well, uh, no. But I’ll let you know if I do, champ.”

Vaggie uncrossed her arms and waved her hand in approval. “Pentious if you want to volunteer your time, be our guest. We surely appreciate it. Just remember that no one can force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Unless it’s part of the game, rawr,” Niffty growled with a grin.

Pentious took a single step away from her. “Thanksss.”

“Right then,” Vaggie said. “Now that’s settled, what does Charlie want us to–”

She was interrupted by the loud pings of notifications that went off on her phone, Husks’s phone, Angel’s, Niffty’s, and Pentious’s phones. All at once, loud dings to alert them that something was happening. Before any of them could check their phones, there was a scream from upstairs.

“Charlie!” everyone exclaimed.

Loud footsteps filled the air and in thirty seconds flat, Charlie burst into the front room, panic emanating from her. “CHECK YOUR PHONES!” she screamed.

Angel moved the fastest. He clicked his notification and brought up a video link. He quickly full-screened his phone and everyone gathered around him to watch what the fuck was happening.

Vox News was live streaming. There was a British woman on the screen with a mic, she was in what looked to be a dressing room. Beneath her were the big bold captions:

FIGHT BREAKOUT BETWEEN RADIO DEMON AND ADAM EVANS

“Top of the hour, New Orleans!” Velvette said. “A fight has broken out between our very own local big names, Adam Evans, who was scheduled to be on Vox News, and our own Seven Rings Station alumni, Radio Demon! It’s unclear what the fight was about, but I can definitely say that it was Alastor who threw the first punch. I’m handing the mic over to Vox, our man of the hour to guide you through the play by play.”

Velvette stood front and center in the camera, but behind her, the chaos unfolded at a concerning pace. Alastor and Adam were on the floor beating the shit out of each other. It was hard to tell who started it, let alone who was winning, but there was blood on both men's faces and clothes.

“Get him, boss!” Husk cheered.

Velvette handed the mic to Vox, who looked just as shocked as everyone else. “Uhh, hey folks, are you seeing this? Violence! Massacre! Absolute chaos! All before our eyes!”

“Holy shit,” Vaggie said.

“Holy shit,” Angel said.

“Holy shit,” Niffty, Pentious, and Husk said.

“Alastor!” Charlie screamed. The panic was palpable in her screeched voice. She didn’t wait another second and made a break for the door.

“Charlie, wait!” Vaggie cried.

“No! Alastor needs me!” Charlie screeched. She ran to the security guard who manned the front door. “I need to be taken to Seven Rings Radio Station NOW!”

The guard nodded. “Right away, ma’am.” Lucifer’s bodyguards moved with impressive speed when they brought one of their black SUVs up and ready for Charlie to hop in. Without wasting another moment, Charlie hopped in the backseat, and the vehicle took off before she had her seatbelt buckled.

Vaggie ran outside too little, too late. “I need to follow them!” she exclaimed.

The guard shrugged. “We take orders from Morningstar, sorry.”

Vaggie growled. “Oh, whatever!” She ran to her own car, which was very close to death. “Don’t fail me now,” she said. Vaggie started the car and peeled out of the parking lot, not far behind from Charlie.

~*~*~*~

Rosie kept waiting for the cops to show up, but after twenty minutes, she began to wonder if Lute called them at all. She assumed the worst from them and the worst would be if Lute and Adam decided to get the law involved. There were many eye witnesses who could confirm that Alastor hit first.

“What’s the worst that will happen? A misdemeanor charge and a measly fine? It’s not like they’ll put me in jail for months on end,” Alastor said. He read Rosie’s mind. They went back to his office on the eighth floor and Rosie promptly locked the door after getting Alastor ice out of the lounge room community fridge and putting the chips in a sandwich ziplock bag. The radio host felt a bit undignified to be slumped in his office chair with his face tipped back and a bag of ice on his face, yet there he was. He only had himself to blame.

“This isn’t some random guy you decided to punch,” Rosie said, her voice firm. “That was Adam Evans, Alastor. His family practically owns this city. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had ties in the law enforcement to make your misdemeanor much more severe.”

Her boss didn’t seem concerned about it. “Oh come on, Rosie. Not you too. You’re willing to bow down to these rich fucks of the city?”

She crossed her arms and slumped against the opposite wall. “No.”

“Then don’t fret. Whatever happens, happens. We have to fight them at every opportunity we get.”

Rosie, despite the swirling anxiety inside the pit of her stomach, couldn’t help but smirk at Alastor’s conviction. “We’ll show ‘em a fight they won’t forget,” she muttered.

“Huzzah,” Alastor replied.

He closed his eyes and leaned further into his chair. He wouldn’t lie, he felt like shit. It had been awhile since he got into a real, authentic fist fight. It wasn’t his first dance, clearly it wasn’t Adam’s either. The Evans man put up a good fight, it felt evenly matched to Alastor. He wasn’t opposed to a rematch to see who was the better fighter, but he knew that Rosie would knock him out herself for even suggesting such an idea. Part of him felt guilty for putting her through that. Rosie had never personally witnessed his violent nature, she’d only heard about it. She was dying to ask him what happened between them, he could feel it.

“I’m trying to stay away from my phone,” Rosie said. “I know this went viral, I just don’t know if it’s in our favor or not. Fucking Velvette just had to be here today, of course she would put the cameras on for views. She should host Vox News, I fucking swear, it should be Vel News.”

“I wonder what Adam ended up doing,” Alastor said.

“I’m sure he went on Vox News. He’s probably on the show right now telling lies and making you out to be the biggest piece of shit ever,” Rosie groaned. Her brain was in overdrive. “We’ve gotta address this tomorrow, boss. Hell, we’ll have to address it all week to our viewers. You need to come in early tomorrow so we can go over notes. I'll spend tonight reading what’s trending and help come up with an official rebuttal.” Before Rosie could really wind herself up, there was a panicked round of knocks at the office door. “THE COPS!” Rosie cried.

“Alastor? Rosie? It’s Charlie!” the voice said from the other side of the door.

Alastor jerked up from his seat, his movement so erratic that it made his growing headache ten times worse. He squinted at the jolt of pain. “The door, Rosie!”

His producer wasted no time. She opened the door.

Charlie barreled through the door. It was obvious that she was panicked with her wide eyes, tense body, and the way her head snapped from Rosie to Alastor. She didn’t greet Rosie, the moment she saw Alastor in his seat, she bolted over to him. “Al!”

He had just enough time to stand up from his seat before Charlie jumped up and clung to him for dear life. He wasn’t properly braced for impact and staggered backwards, his backside hitting his desk, as Charlie clung onto him with her arms around his neck and her face buried in his chest. She was already crying when she was in his arms. The bag of ice fell from his face and onto the floor, breaking the bag and sending ice chips everywhere.

“Our last ziplock bag,” Rosie commented.

“Alastor, holy shit, are you okay? I saw blood!” Charlie cried into his chest. “You scared me so much, are you hurt?”

He wasn’t accustomed to this level of attention. Alastor hugged Charlie back and did his best to support her weight in his arms. “I’m fine, it was mainly Adam’s blood,” he assured.

Charlie leaned back so she could look him in the eyes. She saw his puffy face from the punches, and that he had a bunched up tissue in his left nostril to stop a nosebleed. His broken glasses were on the desk behind him and she saw how big his dark eyes really were. Her bottom lip quivered and the tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Al,” she whined.

“It’s quite alright, dear,” he told her. Whatever guilt he felt with Rosie, he felt tenfold with Charlie. The last thing he wanted was to worry her, let alone bring her to tears. Was she really that worried about him? Did she really care that much?

Rosie lingered in the background. “Uh, Charlie, hey, did you happen to see any cops?”

Charlie shook her head. “Does Rosie know about us?” she asked.

Alastor was caught off guard at her blunt question. “Uh, kinda, she guessed,” he answered, unsure. He didn’t know if Charlie would be upset or not.

Relief flooded her expression. “Thank fucking God, I can do this.”

Charlie surged up and kissed Alastor smack on the lips, right in front of Rosie. He was staggered by her boldness, but his hesitation only lasted a moment because kissing Charlie had a power over him. Her lips were welcome on his, it distracted him from his throbbing face and his budding headache. Alastor adjusted his grip on her and hoisted her up so her knees could rest on the desk behind him and adjusted his hands to hold her by the hips. If Rosie were not present, his hands would go to her ass, but he was mindful of company.

If the lovebirds could see Rosie, they would see her with a big grin on her face despite just being in a panicked frenzy. Rosie wanted to clap and cheer but she knew that would be ill-received, so instead she grinned to herself.

Charlie kissed him until she couldn’t breathe any longer. She broke their kiss with a loud pop and immediately peppered kisses along Alastor’s jawline and exposed neck. These weren’t the same kisses she gave him in the bedroom, rather, these were panicked kisses fueled by her worry for him.

“Charlie, it’s okay,” Alastor cooed, his voice loud enough for her ears only.

“I thought you were really hurt,” she murmured. She looked up at him and held his gaze captive. “Please don’t get into any more fights.”

Heavens above, he would do anything she told him to do when she looked at him like that. “I won’t start any more fights,” Alastor promised. “But I make no promises about finishing the fights.”

She rolled her eyes, yet the smile that tugged her lips said otherwise. “I guess that’s as good as I’ll get from you.”

He grinned, “Indeed, darling.”

The door opened. Rosie didn’t lock it again behind Charlie. The sound of the knob turning made Rosie gasped thinking it was a cop, and her reaction caused Charlie and Alastor to flinch. All Charlie had enough time to do was put her feet back on the ground.

Vaggie walked in the office and saw Charlie in the Radio Demon’s embrace. “What the fuck happened here.”

~*~*~*~

It was as if Charlie was electrocuted off of Alastor, she flew three feet to his right. She moved so fast that she nearly fell over, if it hadn’t been for his quick reaction to reach out and grab her arm and pull her back upright.

Charlie was very aware of her inability to keep cool in situations. Angel reminded her almost daily. Vaggie walked in on her in a rather compromising embrace with Alastor. There was no denying it or deflecting it. She braced herself that now could be the time she steps up and tells Vaggie the truth.

Question was, how much of the truth did Vaggie need to know? Charlie could imagine it now:

“Oh yeah Vaggie, we’re dating as of two days ago! But we’ve been fucking since last week! I think it was three or four times before we became official? A date? No, not yet. He’s supposed to take me out Friday night, want to help me pick an outfit?”

Charlie looked down at the floor, her face flushed. There was no way she was getting out of this alive.

Alastor could feel the dread that rolled off of her. He had an educated guess as to why, given the glare that Vaggie gave him from across the room. He knew he had to take the lead so Charlie could collect herself.

“Welcome,” Alastor told Vaggie. “I guess you’re here to find out what happened?”

The young woman focused all of her attention on him. “I know what happened, I fucking saw it live,” she replied, her tone venomous. “What I want to know is why.”

“I think we all want to know why,” Rosie commented. She didn’t forget to lock the door this time. “Inquiring minds think alike. Spill it, Al.”

He leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms. He expected to be grilled by Rosie, he just didn’t factor that they would have company. If this was the distraction that they needed to take the heat off Charlie, he’d gladly step up as a sacrifice. It was inevitable.

“As you know, Adam is running for mayor against Lucifer,” Alastor began. “He’s going around doing interviews to boost his popularity and numbers, the works. Adam sent Frank up here to make up some lie to get me to go down to hair and makeup. I knew it was a ruse, but I thought it was Vox playing some stupid game and I was looking for entertainment. Adam confronted me in the makeup room and asked me to team up with him so we could take down Lucifer and ruin his chances of winning.”

Alastor didn’t expect Charlie to stiffen as still as a statue next to him. Sure, what he spoke about was personal, this was her father. He leaned forward and glanced at her from the corner of his eye; she was pale, no blood in her face.

“So he wanted to team up with you?” Vaggie asked. Her question brought Alastor back and he faced the room once more. “Makes sense, seeing as you spend most of your air time ripping into Lucifer. You don’t want him winning as mayor, do you?”

Alastor didn’t like accusations. “You don’t know what I want,” he remarked.

Vaggie remained strong. “So tell me.”

“Vaggie…” Charlie muttered.

She didn’t budge. “No, Char, this is serious. Alastor is your business partner now and he may have fucked us up because he got in a fist fight with Adam. What did he say to you, huh? Did he call your show stupid? Said you had no talent? What blow to your inflated ego caused you to lash out and hit him?”

Alastor didn’t dare grin. His usual response was to do so, especially when shots were being fired at him. He showed his teeth, but not from a grin. He couldn’t hold back his snarl when he repeated to the room what exactly Adam Evans had said to him. “I told him no, I didn’t want to work with him. He asked me if it was because I was teamed up with Lucifer’s cunt daughter Charlie.”

The room fell deathly silent. Whatever smug aggression was on Vaggie’s face dropped entirely when Alastor repeated such words. She looked at him with stunned shock instead.

“You heard me right,” Alastor continued. “So I snapped. I didn’t plan on losing my cool. But when I heard Charlie’s name leave Adam’s lips, I saw red. I hit him. I kept on hitting him until Rosie pulled me off of him. And if it weren’t for everyone in this room, I’d go back down those stairs and I’d hit that son of a bitch again.”

“That tactless asshole,” Rosie said. “How dare he say that about our sweet Charlie! What did I expect, he’s got that nasty Lute woman as his manager.”

Vaggie turned to Rosie. “Did you say Lute?”

“Yeah, she’s about your age. She was down there too, she only pulled Adam away after I dragged Alastor out of the fight.”

Vaggie held her head. “Oh great,” she muttered. “I had almost all of my college classes with Lute. She fucking hates my guts.”

“And Adam Evans hates mine,” Charlie said. Her voice was small and hard to hear. “Ever since he ran against dad for city council. It’s no coincidence he asked you to join him, Al. He wants to try and steal all of dad’s allies. Adam is after anyone with a last name of Morningstar.”

Alastor studied Charlie. She became more talkative instead of being quiet and pale, but the poor woman was still on edge. Something had her shaken up and he had a feeling there was more to Adam Evans than she was letting on. He knew what she spoke about, back when Lucifer ran for city council, Alastor was a young man in his twenties. He recalled when he heard that Lucifer dropped out of the race the day before voting day. He tried to remember what happened that made Lucifer drop out, but his head throbbed, and he didn’t think he’d be able to remember.

Vaggie cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for being antagonistic, Alastor,” she said. “You got into a fight with one of the biggest names in this city–”

“I already lectured him for it,” Rosie commented.

Vaggie shrugged. “But you did it to defend Charlie. How can I be upset over that?” Vaggie offered Alastor a tight-lipped smile. He didn’t expect her to do so, and seeing her regard him with anything other than malice felt weird.

Alastor nodded, unsure of what else to do. “I know you have a hard time believing this, but I do give a fuck.”

Vaggie shrugged. “I think I’m starting to have an easier time believing it.” She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Oh boy… what are we gonna do, guys? What if Adam puts a target on our backs and tries to sabotage us? What if this whole ordeal was just what they needed to put us in the ground?”

Charlie didn’t want to think about Adam coming for her program. She wasn’t ready for it.

Rosie clapped a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder and gave her a grin. “Oh, don’t be worried about his snarling, darling,” she said in a cheery tone. “Don’t forget that it’s my job to make sure any exposure is good exposure. Vox News and Adam Evans aren’t the only ones who control the narrative! We’re gonna tell our side, and we’re gonna make sure to really get the message across.”

Vaggie smiled. “Thanks, Rosie. Charlie, are you ready to go?”

“Actually, I’m gonna stay here. Thanks Vaggie. Please tell the others that I’m sorry that I’m not coming back.”

Vaggie wasn't a fool and Charlie wasn't fooling anyone. However, Vaggie knew that now wasn't the time for confrontation, not when Charlie looked as stressed out as she did. Thankfully, Vaggie knew that Charlie wasn't someone who could keep a secret. If she didn't tell her, she told Angel. Vaggie had no doubt she could get Angel to talk. This wasn't over, but it was finished for now.

"I'll see you later, then," Vaggie said. She knew her next move was to harass Angel. Maybe at Whataburger since Pentious had to go mention it and now she was hungry, but definitely to harass Angel for information. Before or after Whataburger was yet to be determined.

~*~*~*~

“Now that was entertainment today, Vox. If shit like that happened every day, I might be tempted to get into politics.” Velvette couldn’t hide her smile of satisfaction after the chaos that ensued hours earlier. She celebrated by ordering a cosmopolitan instead of her usual whiskey.

The Vees were sat at a private table inside one of Valentino’s personal clubs in the heart of the city. People buzzed around the bars and on the dancefloor to loud music, but up in their private table, it was quiet enough to carry on with business. Velvette sat across from the boys in a chair while Vox and Valentino shared the same side on a booth. Each of them were several drinks in and had no intention of stopping.

“I was hoping Adam would really pummel that asshole,” Valentino scowled. “It seemed pretty even to me.”

“You’re just bitter that Alastor beat your ass last time,” Velvette smirked.

“Who told you about that?”

“Obviously Vox did.”

Valentino turned to Vox. “Does confidentiality mean nothing to you?”

Vox had too many drinks to care. “I’m a reporter! It’s my job! Plus I wouldn’t say that you and Alastor fought, Val. He bitch slapped you and then it was over. Adam and Alastor got in an actual fight that went to the ground.”

The taller man made a face and growled, but he didn’t argue Vox’s point. Fine, yes, Alastor bitch slapped him. But if he had really wanted to, he could have fought him the same way Adam did. Problem was, there wasn’t any way to guarantee that he wouldn’t get his face hit. His face was his money maker, he was goddamn gorgeous. Was a silly fight over politics really worth his face?

“It’ll be interesting to see what happens to Alastor’s ratings,” Velvette said, steering the conversation back into focus. The event happened less than five hours ago, it was 9:00 at night. After the altercation, Adam agreed to still go onto Vox News and finish out his hour segment. Velvette kept track of the viewers and listeners; Vox News reached new heights. It was all because of her putting the cameras on them during the fist fight.

Even though Adam was a bit bloody and puffy, he composed himself just fine during the interview. “Do you want to tell the audience about how the fight happened?” Vox had asked him during the show.

Velvette was impressed with Adam’s showmanship. He practiced in front of the camera, he knew exactly where to look and how to play it. “All you need to know,” he said, addressing the audience. “Is that sometimes in life, you have to defend what you believe tooth and nail, with your very being! Alastor started a fight with me because he didn’t like what I had to say to him, but sometimes the truth hurts. You have to stick to your convictions, even if that means you have to defend them to the bitter end. And guess what, New Orleans? I’ll do it again. I’ll defend my city and my beliefs with my body and soul, I’ll fight anyone who challenges my vision, all for you! I don’t care if I have to fight men three times my size, aliens, sea monsters, Big Foot, shit, I’ll fight Jesus himself if he fronts on me. I’ll fight Jesus for you, New Orleans.”

Lute leaned in and whispered something in Adam’s ear.

Adam straightened up in his seat. “Of course, I would never have to fight Jesus because I’m aligned with the Lord, haha. You know who will have to fight Jesus? Alastor. He’s even got demon in his name. Alastor obviously works for the devil and it’ll be me and Jesus fighting him, no cap.”

Vox wasn’t sure how to proceed with the interview. “That’s great,” was all he said.

Adam nodded, pleased with himself. “Hallelujah, brother.”

At the table in the club, Vox wanted to do everything he could to forget that asshole Adam Evans. He didn’t have the heart to tell Valentino that Adam called him ugly, instead he hoped that he’d get an organic compliment. So far, nothing.

“What did the fight break out over?” Valentino asked.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t listening,” Vox muttered.

Velvette rolled her eyes. “You always have to be listening, Vox. You’re lucky I was there. I can tell you exactly why that fist fight broke out. We’ve got some interesting info on the Radio Demon, boys. He’s always been so untouchable, with defenses and walls built so thick and so tall that it seemed impossible to break through and find any kind of vulnerability… until today.”

Vox and Valentino had leaned in close, hanging onto every word that came out of her mouth. That’s exactly how Velvette liked it. “What is it?!” both men asked at the same time.

She smiled and took a victory sip of her drink. “It should be obvious, boys. Charlie Morningstar. Alastor has a soft spot for the Morningstar woman.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward in her seat as well. “And now is the time to strike. Let’s put the theory to the test and see how weak Alastor really is for this woman.”

~*~*~*~

It was 7:30 when Alastor and Charlie got in his car to leave the station. The tension in the room never fully dropped because with just one quick tap, they could see the trending news and read what people thought about the fiasco. Rosie promised that she would handle it and that she’d have a plan of action by tomorrow. Alastor said he’d meet her in the office at noon, five hours before his show was set to start.

Charlie knew that the temptation of checking her phone would be too great. At least Alastor didn’t have a smart phone at his fingertips that could tell him anything he wanted. Maybe having a dinosaur phone was the way to go, after all. She was glad that she’d have the distraction of staying with him tonight, she knew that if she went back to the apartment she would drive herself and Angel mad looking at all the news articles and headlines.

Alastor was quiet as he drove them back to his place. His mood didn’t take the same dive that it would have if Charlie wasn’t with him. If he wanted to slip back into old habits, he’d chain smoke on his balcony and drink until he was too tired and numb to think about anything. Adam Evans, Vox, Lucifer, politics, the city itself, his ratings–all of that would be gone.

And if you kept drinking past that, you might be lucky enough to stop thinking about mother and fath–

“Hey Al?”

Charlie’s soft voice brought him out of his thought spiral. “Yes?” he asked.

“Would you mind swinging by the store before we go to your place?”

“Not at all. If I may be so nosy, what do you want to buy?”

He saw her smile in his peripheral vision. “Well, you’ve had a long day. You’re tired. I’m sure you want to take a bath or a shower. You probably want to relax. I thought that I could… you know… make us dinner.”

Alastor was caught off guard. He never expected nice gestures from people, given his entire life as an adult where no one went out of their way to be nice to him. The offer of kindness staggered him back a step. “What did you have in mind?”

Charlie expected him to tell her no. His question proved that she had his interest. She sat up in the passenger’s seat. “Well, I’m not a great cook, you got me there! Certainly not as talented as you. But I’m pretty good at reading directions and using measuring cups, which is all you really need for hamburger helper.”

“Hamburger what now?”

She giggled. “Hamburger helper! You haven’t heard of it?”

“You may as well be talking to me about technology, darling.”

Charlie couldn’t hide her amusement. It pleased him to see her light up beside him, even if it was at his expense to a degree. Anything was better than when she was pale and quiet in the office (which he’d get to the bottom of, later). “You just need to swing by the grocery store and while I cook you can shower and chill out. Leave it all to me.”

He considered how strange it would be to have her cooking in his kitchen, using his pots and pans and utensils. This was relationship territory, he supposed. Perhaps he’d end up cooking at her place and the shoe would be on the other foot. “Just tell me now, will you have to chop anything? I have culinary grade chef knives, I’d hate for you to lose a finger while I was in the shower.”

Charlie playfully smacked his arm. “Oh please! I’ve handled knives before!”

“Culinary grade, darling.”

“Don’t worry, I’m very proficient. You’ll see what I mean in about an hour.” Charlie grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “You’ll see…”

~*~*~*~

Charlie was very secretive when she got back in the car with her one plastic bag full of groceries. Alastor wrinkled his nose and tried to peek inside, but Charlie was onto him and hid the bag under her sweater. “Just drive!” He rolled his eyes but smirked. He made it back to his apartment in no time and led the way up the stairs. As soon as Alastor unlocked the front door, Charlie darted to the kitchen. “Okay, go shower! Take your time, relax, maybe a bubble bath, just don’t come into the kitchen for twenty minutes.”

“You’re becoming very bold, Miss Morningstar,” Alastor quipped. He turned on the jazz music as a background sound. “Don’t you need me to show you where everything is? Pots, pans, skillets, utensils?”

As he asked, Charlie was already banging around what sounded like a big pot. “I think I’ve got it!” she called. “If I really need your help I’ll ask!”

“How about we shower together and then cook together?”

“Nice try! Go on, get!”

Alastor wasn’t sure how he felt at the idea of being kicked out of his own kitchen. Has anyone ever had the gall to do so before? Only his grandmother, who would shoo him out of the kitchen because he was too young to be around. But that was his grandmother’s kitchen, this was his own home, his own place!

“What did I get myself into?” Alastor asked himself.

He hoped that Charlie was as capable as she talked herself up to be. He went through the living room and into his bedroom that had a connecting master bath. For the first time that day, Alastor looked at his reflection in the mirror. He knew his glasses were crooked from the fight, unfortunate but inevitable collateral damage. He didn’t look as bad as he thought, but he did look a bit rough.

Alastor had his tie loosened and vest off when he heard a small shriek. “Charlie!” he cried.

“It was just a spider!” she yelled back. “Keep going, I don’t hear the water!”

Alastor curled his lip. “Infuriating woman. What in God’s name is hamburger helper, for fuck’s sake. I guess I’ll know soon enough.” It was easy for him to slip into his pity party state of mind. It was his version of pouting. He turned on the shower and took off the rest of his clothes while the water heated up. He didn’t usually take twenty minute showers, but he supposed now was as good a time as any to try. Alastor inspected himself in the mirror. His face was a bit puffed up from the wild punches. Adam, on the other hand, had a bloodied nose.

He thought about the sensation of his fist crunching into that smirking asshole’s nose. The satisfying crunch of the bone.

“Look at you,” Alastor said to his reflection. “You lost your composure and now all of New Orleans has seen you in a brawl. What happened to no one seeing past your smile? Now everyone knows that it is possible to get under your skin.”

He was upset with himself. He was upset with the situation. He was still beyond pissed at Adam. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he would do if he ever saw Adam again and he said something else derogatory about Charlie.

My Charlie.

Alastor found himself standing in the hot water of the shower, lost in his thoughts and still as a statue. He was truly his own worst enemy sometimes. Well, truthfully, all the time. Vox could never say anything to him that he hadn’t already thought about himself. Alastor knew it was the wrong move to lose his cool, camera or no cameras. The old Alastor would have never given into temptation, he would have been as composed and calculated as his Radio Demon persona.

Yet, at the same time, Alastor knew that he would do it all again. Without a doubt in his mind, if history repeated itself and Adam said those things about Charlie, he would beat him even harder.

Maybe you’re more like your father than you realize, wouldn’t that notion make mother turn over in her grave?

Alastor breathed out and in and focused on the hot water. He wasn’t going to spiral down these dark thoughts. He was going to shower, change into fresh clothes, and eat whatever godforsaken meal Charlie made for him. Then, he’d drink his whiskey, relax on the couch, and if he was really lucky, she’d fall asleep on top of him like the night before.

~*~*~*~

She was torn between the cheeseburger macaroni and the beef stroganoff at the grocery store. Alastor seemed like a foodie, which was a nice way of calling him a picky eater. Charlie decided to go with stroganoff. He seemed to enjoy local cajun dishes so maybe she could put some creole seasoning in it.

Unfortunately for Charlie, Alastor didn’t have any creole seasoning in his spice cabinet. He had every individual spice that would make up a creole seasoning (paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne pepper) and Charlie lost some of her previous pep when she realized she had to take at least eight of them. Not only that, she didn’t know the ratios!

“Why do you have to be so extra?!” Charlie asked, knowing full well he couldn’t hear her. She quickly took the spices and started sprinkling them into her dish. All she had to do was let the mixture simmer for twenty minutes and then she’d be home free. Charlie turned the broiler on and put the loaves of garlic bread she got from the freezer aisle on the cookie sheet. Garlic bread and stroganoff, what could be better?

By the time Alastor padded into the kitchen, Charlie’s back was to the kitchen as she furiously stirred her pot of dinner. The bread was already out of the oven and cooling on the counter. She didn’t hear him enter the kitchen or pad across the room until he was directly behind her.

“EEEEEEEEKKK!” Charlie shrieked in surprise when Alastor wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He couldn’t help but laugh at her expense. He didn’t think she could shriek that high, like a banshee. Charlie whipped around to face him. His shameless grin didn’t shrink from her angry eyes. “Al! You scared the shit out of me! I could have hi–”

He wasted no time to kiss her. He knew it was cheeky of him to do so, and he knew he was really pushing his luck when he took advantage of her open mouth and snaked his tongue inside to wrestle hers. Charlie “mphed” into his mouth, and Alastor greedily consumed her. His arms were still around her and he moved his hands down to the globes of her ass, just like he had to resist to do earlier in his office with Rosie present. He thought it once and he thought it again: Charlie was sweeter than any wine, more addicting than any hard liquor or drug. She made him insatiable.

Before she could fight him for dominance of the kiss, he broke their lips apart. “Are you serious?!” Charlie whined.

Alastor grinned. “Sorry dear, you got one free kiss earlier, it was my turn. My, my, my what concoction do we have here? Beef and noodles in some sort of sauce?”

Charlie composed herself and stepped aside to show her creation on full display. “Beef stroganoff,” she declared. “With some garlic bread to go with it! Easy peasy meal in under thirty minutes.”

He had to admit that the presentation left a lot to be desired, however, the food smelled decently good. This was more promising than fast food, he had to give her that. “I’ll get bowls,” he said. “Thank you, Charlie. I don’t think I’ve ever had stroganoff before.”

“Really? Like ever?”

“Like ever.”

“The nannies used to make this for me all the time when I was growing up,” Charlie said. Alastor got two bowls from the cupboard and served her first like a gentleman.

“How many nannies did you have?” he asked.

“There was usually one or two who would last a few years and then move onto new jobs. It was sad when I was a kid, it was like losing a friend. Some of them I was really attached to. They were always waiting for me when I got off the school bus, with snacks ready and made, and some of them let me do my homework in the kitchen while they cooked dinner.”

“And when dinner was ready… did you sit down and eat at the kitchen table with your parents?”

“Ha! Very rarely. I think I can remember maybe four times? Five? Dad worked. Mom worked. I had to be in bed by 8:00 on a school night. And as I got older and more independent, it went from cooking me dinner to having an already prepared meal that I just zapped in the microwave. Some days I’d come home from high school and I wouldn’t see another soul the rest of the day.” Charlie followed Alastor to the kitchen counter and sat next to him on the bar stool. “Okay Al, be honest. If you don’t like it, you won’t hurt my feelings.” Her eyes were trained on him intently. Alastor wasn’t used to eating with an audience. He scooped up his first bite in his spoon and took a bite. She held her breath as she watched him chew his food and then swallow. “Well?” she asked, unable to wait.

Alastor shrugged. “It’s better than I thought.”

“Did you think it was going to be bad?”

“The truth, right?”

“Yes please.”

“I thought it was going to be bad. However, this food has exceeded my expectations. It’s actually better than just ‘good’, Miss Morningstar, I would place it in the ‘pretty good’ category of food.”

Charlie gasped and her mouth turned up in a big smile. “You think my food is pretty good?”

“I do.”

Charlie squealed in delight. “Thanks, hamburger helper!”

~*~*~*~

The dishes were washed and on the rack drip-drying, two glasses of whiskey were on coasters on the coffee table, and the lovebirds were lounged out on the couch for the evening. Both of them had to resist looking at their phones, which was easier said than done for one of them.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do it,” Charlie admitted. “But I know that if I do, it’ll wind me up so much that I won’t be able to go to bed.”

“Temptations must be resisted in life,” Alastor said. “Of course, I’m preaching to the choir, since I didn’t resist my temptations earlier.” He chuckled wryly and sipped his whiskey. The alcohol was starting to loosen him up. He would stop when he felt good and wouldn’t overdo it. “Perhaps,” Alastor mused, “Some of that getting to know each other in conversation is a welcome idea.”

Charlie turned her body to face his. She sat on the couch with her feet curled under her. She had already changed into her pajamas and Alastor enjoyed seeing her in another pair of his clothes. More items he can collect to smell like her. “I think you’re right,” Charlie agreed. “So I told Angel and you told Rosie, huh?”

“No darling, I didn’t tell Rosie, she–” Alastor hesitated. Did he really want to tell Charlie how easily Rosie tricked the information out of him? “Guessed,” he finished, telling a white lie. “And I didn’t want to lead her on. Did you tell Angel?”

A faint pink blush crept up her neck and cheeks, and it wasn’t from the whiskey. “Uh, he also guessed…” Charlie answered with a smile. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I’m not very good at being subtle.”

He grinned at her cheeky sarcasm. “Really? You? I’m positively gobsmacked.” Charlie giggled. Alastor took another drink of whiskey, he knew he would need it. “Darling, may I ask you a question? A more serious one?”

“Sure, Al.”

“When I spoke about Adam Evans earlier… maybe it was just how worried you were about me… or perhaps it was Vaggie’s sudden appearance… but Charlie, you were pale as a ghost and deathly still. The conversation seemed to really affect you, and I can’t help but think it was because of him.”

Charlie averted her eyes and stared down at her lap. Silence fell between them as she thought about what exactly she wanted to say in response. Alastor waited patiently, his eyes never leaving her. He fought the urge to reach out and take her hand in his own.

“Adam Evans,” Charlie began, her voice slightly wobbly. “Represents when everything in my life went to shit. He ran against dad when I was in high school for city council. I thought I repressed everything that happened during that time… but after his name was mentioned and after I saw him, it all flooded back in crystal clarity. Mom left dad the night before the polls opened to vote. Dad dropped out of the race the next day. Adam won. I tried to escape the press the best I could, get away from everyone talking about dad’s loss, but I was so… suffocated. Now, here I am, trying to do my best for my program. Dad is running again, but this time for mayor! I haven’t heard from mom in a long fucking time. And…” Charlie trailed off, her voice catching. She looked up at Alastor; big doe eyes met his, and she let him see how vulnerable she was to talk about this. “And he’s back,” she whispered. “He’s back, and he’s trying to ruin everything just like he did the first time.”

Alastor decided the hand wouldn’t do. He pulled Charlie into his arms, her chest falling into his, and she gladly accepted his embrace. “I won’t let him,” Alastor murmured. He felt the hot, wet tears on his exposed neck. “Oh, Charlie,” he said, hugging her tighter.

“He’s going to do everything he can to ruin dad,” Charlie said. “And he’s going to try and ruin us, too! Because I’m his daughter! Because you refused to join him! He’s going to ruin everything!”

“I swear to you on my life, Charlotte. I will not let him ruin anything.” Alastor gently lifted Charlie’s chin so she could look at him in the eyes when he spoke. It pained him to see her tear-filled eyes and quivering bottom lip. His chest clenched. “I’ll tell you something else, too,” Alastor whispered. “You’re not the same kid from when he ran against your dad the first time. You’re grown now, and you’re more capable than anyone. You’re stronger, smarter, and this time, you can defend yourself. We won’t let Adam win.”

Charlie searched his eyes; all she found was conviction. Alastor meant every word he spoke to her. “Together,” she repeated. The tears stopped free flowing and she wiped her eyes on her shirt. She took another drink of her whiskey and Alastor decided it would be a good idea to follow suit. “Can I ask you a question?” Charlie asked.

“How can I say no?”

She sniffled and resisted wiping her nose. “I’d like to know… well… anything about your childhood that you can tell me. I’ve told you a bit about myself with the nannies. I don’t know anything about you.”

He didn’t expect her question to be about his past, he figured she’d ask about his experience with Adam Evans. He didn’t think that Charlie would try and open the Pandora’s box of his mind. What if what he told her scared her off? What if she got a small glimpse into his mind and decided to run for the hills?

Better she finds out now than later.

Alastor finished off his whiskey. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, lightly setting her aside so he could stand up and pour himself some more alcohol. He felt her eyes on him as he padded to his bar and poured himself another glass. “I don’t know where to begin,” Alastor admitted. He was glad his back was to her.

“Begin at the beginning?” Charlie asked.

He smirked. “My mother taught me how to cook. Her mother taught her, whose mother taught her. My grandmother made sure that I learned the way she taught my mother, she wanted to keep the recipes as traditional in the family as possible.”

“That’s lovely,” Charlie said.

Alastor knew that wasn’t what Charlie wanted to know. What he told her was very surface level, she wanted information with a bit more substance. She would never say it, he knew, but it was the truth all the same. Alastor faced Charlie once more. “Have you heard of the debate of nature versus nurture?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Yes, it was discussed in my psychology class in college,” Charlie answered. “It’s the debate of what influences your personality and traits, correct?”

“Pretty much,” Alastor replied. “Human individuality is a unique thing, it’s always fascinated me. What shapes the way a person is? Why are we the way we are, do we inherit it from our genetics, or are we shaped by the opportunities we’re raised in? I came across the debate when I was nineteen, still very much a young man who didn’t know what I was doing. I was with Mimzy, I really didn’t know what I was doing. I’ve read books about it, and it’s since lost some of its popularity in the psychology world. Nowadays, genetics and environment are used instead.”

“What about it fascinates you?” Charlie asked.

“Well, it made me take a good look at myself. By nature, Charlie, I wasn’t born with the best start. My father was a… very bad man. Perhaps I’ll tell you about him another time. I’m not exactly a poster boy for an upstanding citizen. I don’t cheat, I don’t steal, I’m not a thug. I won’t lie to you, Charlie, I’m not a perfect man who always strives to do the right thing, nor do I always resist the darkness inside of me. I thought that if I personified the ugly side of me–the Radio Demon–I could get it out of my system. I suppose you could call it acting. The man you hear on the radio is still me. The man who punched Valentino and got in a brawl with Adam is still me. But he’s controlled, you see? He has his opportunity to come out and play and then he’s put away when the show is over.”

Charlie hung onto every word he said. She wasn’t running out the door yet. He gulped down his liquid courage and continued.

“Then, there’s nurture. I may be my father’s son, but I was raised by my mother. When I think of nurture, I think of my mother. She always wanted the best for me. She did her best to give me opportunities, to make sure I was happy. She wanted me to be a proper southern gentleman. When she died, I thought all hope of being a good man was gone. I figured I’d give into my nature. Then, I met Rosie. Sometimes she reminds me of my mother, you’ve heard the way she lectures me. She’s the one who told me to take you on a proper date, which I had planned to do already, but she asks me every single day if I’ve done it yet.” Charlie smiled at this, and he couldn’t help but smirk despite himself. Alastor sighed and sat back down on the couch. He regarded Charlie carefully. “Nature versus nurture is a metaphor with how I feel, Charlie. How I think. I know I’m not the best man. I know that I’ve got a darker nature. But you-I-you… you make me want to be a better man. You nurture something inside of me.”

Charlie didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t look away from him. Instead, she gave him a small smile and reached out to grab his hand, the very gesture he struggled to do with her when the roles reversed. She made everything seem so natural–her smiles, her tenderness, her touches. Charlie lifted their entwined hands and kissed his palm. He held his breath as he felt her lips on his skin.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Alastor,” Charlie whispered. “I think you’re complex. You’re very human.” He didn’t know what to say to that. No one had ever said that to him before. “I think you just need redirection on where to put your feelings and how you channel them,” she continued. “You’ve been alone for a long time now, I know you have. Me too. Maybe it’ll take some time but you can tell me how you feel. You know that, right? And I would bet that Rosie would tell you the same thing. We can nurture each other, Al.”

He was speechless. He thought maybe it was the alcohol that made him feel warm, but he knew better. It was Charlie. He showed her a glimpse into his mind and she kissed him palm in response. She wasn’t afraid of him.

Alastor grabbed Charlie’s hips and hoisted her onto his lap. He wanted as much of her skin to touch him. “Thank you,” was all he said.

Notes:

The running prompt in my mind for this chapter was "Charlie cooks Alastor hamburger helper" lmao. Question is, did he really think it was pretty good or was he just sparing our poor Charlie's feelings? xD

Poor Pentious, he's so lonely and foolish and an absolute goober who I love so much. Like Husk picked him up for three days in a row, he let him put handcuffs on him, there was a big red button on them that he never thought to press, and he was just okay with doing whatever Husk told him to do. Pentious, why LOL

I was introduced to the nature vs nurture debate in college and I thought it was an interesting concept to apply to Alastor. I've given a lot of thought into his character introspection and background that I look forward to sharing in future chapters. I'm by no means an expert of nature vs nurture, I really just wanted to touch on the concept of it.

Also, I wasn't personally there for the conversation (hehe) but I can see Lute pulling Adam to the side and telling him that pitting himself against Jesus Christ would make him lose followers, dude needs to stop getting so carried away.

GET IT? CARRIED AWAY *points to myself*

My end notes are getting cheekier each week :)

As always, thank y'all for taking the time to comment and thank you for reading. Also thank you those of you who point out any spelling/grammar issues, I do be typing like a mad woman trying to get the chapters done that I miss stuff. I appreciate y'all so much!

Chapter 12

Summary:

Fall out from the live fight on Vox News. The debate between Adam and Lucifer is getting closer.

Rosie didn’t have the luxury of waiting until Thursday morning to check the news and see the ratings. Time was of the essence with her job; if there was a fire, she needed to put it out before it could spread. She knew she couldn’t do this inebriated, but she also needed something to take the edge off.

Tipsy it is!

She made a pit stop at the Quick Mart gas station for one (and only one) margarita can drink. Her regular cashier was at the register, a man with a bored expression who seemed to brighten up every time she came in. He asked for her ID many times in the past, but this time was no different. “Can I see your ID, ma’am?”

Rosie wasn’t offended. Quite the opposite, she couldn’t help the small smirk as she showed him her license. They both knew she was over twenty-one and then some, but it made her feel good to be asked and he liked seeing her expression brighten. The cashier nodded and put the margarita in a paper bag. “Thanks,” Rosie said. When her eyes looked up and in the reflection of one of his framed business licenses, she saw the reflection of the TV screen. Rosie snapped her head around to see that the cashier had it on the news. Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench were reporting the local nightly news.

“Big discourse today at the Seven Rings Radio Station,” Katie Killjoy began. “Adam Evans went on what was supposed to be an interview for Vox News and ended up in a fist fight! Let’s play the clip.”

“Turn up the TV!” Rosie demanded. The cashier did exactly as she said.

The footage rolled that showed Alastor and Adam down on the ground wildly punching each other. In the background, Lute was on her phone, Rosie yelled at them to stop, and Vox took over the screen to give his report. Rosie watched with fascinated horror as the Rosie on screen dragged Alastor away from Adam, with Lute following suit and pulling Adam away as well.

“Our own New Orleans local Adam Evans getting into a fist fight!” Tom Trench announced. “That’s unheard of. The Adam Evans administration has yet to give an official statement. From what we’ve been told, Adam asked Alastor, who this city knows as Radio Demon, down to the hair and makeup room to have a discussion. According to Vox News, Alastor hit first, but no one can comment on what exactly started the fight between these two men.”

Rosie pointed at the screen. “That’s right! Because Adam doesn’t want to admit that he’s a big bully!”

On screen, Katie Killjoy took over. “The Radio Demon has yet to make any statement about the fight. From what our sources have said, no charges were pressed. Looks like it was just a rough and tumble! As most of you are aware, Adam Evans is running against Lucifer Morningstar for mayor. Elections are heating up and we’ve got a scheduled debate for this Friday that Tom and I will be hosting live at the civic center. Tune into Pride Ring TV for all updates on our city! Now onto Mitch with the weather.”

Rosie let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “That was you on the news,” the cashier said.

“Yes,” she replied. “That was me.”

“You’re pretty on camera.”

Rosie didn’t know what to say. She took her bagged margarita, muttered a thanks, and left to her place. When she got home, she made quick work of changing into comfier clothes and putting a frozen pizza in the oven. She set herself up on her lazy boy, cracked open her margarita, and got on her laptop.

If Rosie had drank her drink, she would have spit it out the moment she opened her browser. Alastor was on the front page of her news tab (a decent picture of him, his glasses were crooked and his nose was starting to bleed, but he had a strong, determined expression) and the headline read:

RADIO DEMON FIGHTS LOCAL POLITICIAN! FINALLY SOMEONE STANDS UP AGAINST ADAM EVANS!

“Interesting,” Rosie muttered. She clicked the article. It was written by a Lucifer Morningstar supporter.

Adam Evans has been nothing but a hindrance to this community for too long. The Evans family has too much power and money tied to this city and if Evans becomes mayor, it’ll only benefit the businesses that the Evans family runs. Short King Morningstar has the city’s best interest at heart, but his aggression towards Evans has been very mild. This is not the same Morningstar who ran against Evans for city council, a race that he dropped out of on voting day. Lucifer seems determined to focus on what his campaign is about and keeping Evans out of his focus. However, with the debate approaching this Friday, it’ll be interesting to see how aggressive Lucifer will become to defend himself against Adam, who is quite notorious for attack. It’s been a frustrating few weeks, but tonight, it’s been a breath of fresh air. Alastor the Radio Demon has finally made a stand against Adam Evans. He beat his ass!

“Oh my God,” Rosie muttered. She expected bad press. She was braced for bad press. She went through the articles, the websites, found everything that was trending.

By 11:00 that evening, Rosie had finished her pizza, her can of margarita, and was positive that she knew what the next step of the plan was. Alastor’s ratings skyrocketed just like Vox’s from the fist fight. Radio Demon was trending. The only people who criticized Alastor were the Adam Evans supporters, people who called him a devil-spawn brute who resorted to violence because he couldn’t handle the truth.

Then, there were the Morningstar supporters who went absolutely bonkers for Alastor’s bravery at standing up to Adam. Alastor’s fight caused fans to call him “fearless” and “fighter for the people” from his heroics. However, these people were Lucifer Morningstar supporters, through and through.

If the Radio Demon was going to survive this, he’d have to accept two truths. One, Adam Evans was now his enemy.

Two, Lucifer Morningstar was now his ally.

Rosie wasn’t sure she could convince Alastor of the latter. But she knew if she didn’t, this train would crash and burn.

~*~*~*~

Angel was having a pretty good night. The drama with Charlie and Alastor was a big deal, and yes, he could admit that he got some entertainment out of watching Alastor beat the shit out of Adam. Angel wasn’t hard to entertain; trash reality, fist fights, romantic comedies, and his personal favorite, infidelity. He loved that shit. He knew that it seemed like a big deal now but if he had the chance to speak with Charlie, he would have told her that everything would be okay. She barreled out of the center and Vaggie followed suit.

The thought did occur to Angel that Vaggie would pick up on Charlie and Alastor. She wasn’t stupid, and she was a lot more observant than people gave her credit for. Vaggie was different from Angel. Where she thought this was a recipe for disaster, he saw it as an opportunity for Charlie to swoop into Alastor’s office, give him a big smooch, and tell him that everything would be alright. And if Angel had to guess, he would bet that Alastor’s protector ego would love Charlie worried about him.

Was this really such a bad thing to happen? Sure, Alastor’s handsome face got hit, but this was an opportunity for romance!

Husk had to lock up the center since Charlie wasn’t there. Angel stuck around with him, as well as Niffty and Pentious. “Well guys, the night is young,” Angel announced. “Are we parting ways or are we going to Whataburger?”

“Well, I did promise the kid,” Husk answered, gesturing towards Pentious.

“Niffty, down! leave him alone!” Angel exclaimed.

Niffty stopped trying to climb on Pentious’s shoulders. “This isn’t over,” she muttered to Pentious, who took a few steps away from her.

Husk and Angel exchanged looks. “We shouldn’t leave them alone together,” Husk said.

Angel pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Ya tellin me. We sticking together? Having dinner? Like a couple of friends?”

Husk seemed to think about his posed question. It was crazy to think that just last week, he thought Angel was a poser, that all of the young people standing before him were losers. Husk could admit that he was wrong about them. He didn't foresee that he'd spend his time with them, but then again, it was better than sitting at home drinking beer and watching whatever sitcom was on. “Speaking of friends,” Husk said. “What happened to your blonde friend from Consent?”

Angel was surprised that Husk asked him a personal question. “Cherri? Ah, we’re not speaking right now. I’m sure she’ll text me or I’ll text her soon. Why?”

The older man shrugged. “You two seemed to get into a spat that night. Was wondering if you resolved it.”

“Cherri and I go way back. Way, way back. I feel like she understands me the most, y’know? She’s seen me at my worst. But sometimes what Cherri wants ain’t what Charlie wants. Cherri wants me to have fun. She cares about me, really, and if I was off drugs and sober she’d be happy. But Charlie is the one who helps me, y’know? Cherri won't do that. If I tell Cherri I’ve had a shit day, she’s taking me to the club to let loose and get fucked up. If I tell Charlie I’ve had a shit day, she’s giving me a hug and asking me if I want to watch Gilmore Girls.”

It felt good to talk about it. Angel huffed out his cigarette smoke and took another hit. Husk watched him. “Charlie is a good friend,” he said.

Angel nodded. “I know.”

“Do you think you’d leave your job with Valentino? You don’t think it’ll conflict too much with Charlie?”

Angel shook his head. “Look at me, Husk. What job am I gonna get when this face has been on nothing but porn videos for the past six years? I’m not just a porn star, I’m the porn star. You think any company down here that offers big bucks is sex positive? Nah, I’m stuck. I’m not gonna pay off my debt to Valentino and I’m not gonna get another job in the industry, he’s got that shit locked down. I’m… stuck.”

Husk eyed him carefully. He knew when people were getting defensive. Instead of holding, he decided to push his luck. “If you could leave Valentino, would you?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“You don’t get it. Valentino is all I know. He takes good care of me. As long as I don’t mix him with Charlie and her project, I think it could–”

“You sound scared.” Angel looked at Husk, who stared at him with a serious expression. They held each others' eyes, daring the other to look away. “That’s just my opinion,” Husk said. “I think you’re scared of change and you’re scared to try.”

Angel felt like he’d been slapped. How dare Husk try and play therapist on him, that was Vaggie’s schtick. How dare he call him scared, he didn’t know him! “On second thought, y’all can go to Whataburger, I’m outta here,” Angel muttered. He threw his cigarette on the ground and stomped on it.

Husk smirked. “Not very good with confrontation, huh?”

“Oh fuck off. You don’t know me.”

~*~*~*~

Lucifer was at his usual park feeding the ducks when he was alarmed by the Vox News live update. He didn’t know that Adam Evans went on Vox News, he thought it was better not to keep track of every little move his opponent made. Back when they ran for city council, Lucifer knew everything that Adam did, down to the places he ate lunch. He was a much different man back then; overly ambitious, faithful in the city, and he thought other people gave a shit like he did.

He almost didn’t check his phone for the notification. He was in the middle of a conversation with Cornbread, one of his favorite ducks (which was a secret that he trusted Cornbread not to tell the other ducks about). “I just don’t think she’s ready for commitment, she keeps thinking about the other guy from the pods and she’s leading her fiancé on for a Mexico vacation,” Lucifer said. He updated Cornbread on the most recent episode of Love is Blind.

“Quack,” Cornbread replied.

“Yes, the other guy in the pods is quite handsome,” Lucifer agreed.

“Quack.”

“Oh no, I could never go on that show! Haha! My voice is too recognizable, the ladies would know it’s me.”

His phone relentlessly pinged with notifications. Lucifer groaned and had every intention of silencing his phone. However, when he saw the words RADIO DEMON on his notification bar, he knew there was trouble. Normally, Lucifer would take pleasure in knowing that Alastor made a misstep, but unfortunately that obnoxious man was tied to his daughter. Lucifer had a lot to say about Alastor. The ducks knew all about the Radio Demon. Cornbread especially didn’t like him.

“If you’ll excuse me, sorry buddy. Go swim, it might be a minute.”

“Quack.”

Lucifer walked away from the pond edge and checked his phone for all the updates. Alastor and Adam Evans got into a fist fight before Adam was scheduled to be on Vox News, and Vox put their fist fight live on his show. Lucifer tried to see what the fight was about, but it was to no avail. None of the news stories had the info and Adam himself avoided the question when Vox asked him. The cameras weren’t on them until after Alastor threw the first punch, according to eyewitnesses. He went back to the picture still of Adam on Vox’s show; the man had a puffy eye, bloody nose, and looked like shit.

He couldn’t help but grin at his phone screen. “How’s it feel, dickhead?” he asked, pleased with himself. Whatever caused the fight between Adam and Alastor, Lucifer intended to get to the bottom of it. Alastor had been a thorn in his side for years, but one annoying trait about that man was how composed and unreadable he was. Something caused him to snap and hit Adam. Lucifer had a feeling he knew what that something was, but he hoped with every fiber of his being that what his intuition was wrong. He hoped that it was anything in the world except Charlie.

Tomorrow was his big debate with Adam. Lucifer wasn't nervous about it. Sure, he was a bit anxious about going on stage and being in front of the camera, but those nerves never went away. Heaven forbid someone caught him at a bad angle. Lucifer wasn't interested in any political mud-slinging. Been there, done that. It was tiresome. He expected Adam had quite a bit to say to him, low-hanging fruit like height jokes. Once, Lucifer would have been very wound up by men like Adam. He used to care a lot: about his work, his city, his projects, all of it. Now, he didn't want to waste his energy into the unimportant details. This wasn't about who could insult each other better, this was about whose policies were stronger.

That's all Lucifer cared about.

After all, he learned his lesson the hard way. If only he had cared as much as he did about his job as he did about his family.

About Charlie.

"Unproductive thoughts!" Lucifer exclaimed to himself. He slapped his cheeks lightly. "Right, back to our conversation, Cornbread!"

From across the pond came one single, "quack."

~*~*~*~

Angel saw Vaggie’s car in the guest parking lot and he instantly knew there was trouble. Unless Charlie went home with Vaggie, this was bad news. Considering that Charlie’s new squeeze got hit in the face, she’d have to be peeled away from him. Vaggie was alone. Which meant that she was there for him.

“Toots, I’m seriously not in the mood,” Angel announced when he opened the front door. He regretted that him and Charlie told Vaggie about the spare key under the rug. Now that he thought about it, that was such an obvious hiding spot.

Vaggie poked her head out from their kitchen. “You knew I was here,” she said. She didn’t seem too surprised.

“I saw your car. Let me guess, Charlie ain’t with ya?”

Vaggie walked out of the kitchen, eating one of their popsicles. “Correct.”

The tension in the air was obvious between them. There were traits about Vaggie that Charlie didn’t have, some good, some bad. Charlie hated tension. If she had a problem with someone, especially Angel, she’d do everything in her power to avoid the confrontation and drive herself mad over it. It took her two weeks to build up the courage to ask Angel to turn the AC down. Vaggie wasn’t afraid of confrontation; tension didn’t phase her. In moments like these, Angel appreciated Vaggie. The sooner they confronted the problem, the sooner he could kick her out and go to bed.

Angel crossed his arms and sat down on his bean bag. “Spill it.”

Vaggie put the hand that wasn’t holding the popsicle on her hip. “How long have you known?”

Angel wasn’t in the mood for games. If Husk hadn’t pissed him off, sure, he’d give her the runaround and play dumb. Not now, not tonight. “A couple of days,” he answered.

“She told you?”

“Ha! C’mon Vags, this is Charlie. I figured it out, same way you did.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

Angel couldn’t help the mocking laugh. “Seriously? Why do you think?”

Vaggie should have seen that one coming. This wasn’t the first time Charlie pursued someone despite Vaggie’s disapproval; she told her not to take Seviathan back (three times), not to mention the college hookup phase (“Charlie, they’re using you, they just wanna fuck they don’t want to date you”) and each time Vaggie ended up right and Charlie ended up heartbroken. It had just been awhile since Charlie pursued someone; truthfully, Vaggie thought she got it out of her system.

This was different from any random college fling or returning to her main ex boyfriend. This was the fucking Radio Demon. Of course Charlie would pursue the most questionable, pompous, morally gray, pompous, negative, pompous, plain rude, and oh yes, pompous man who walked around New Orleans, of course Charlie would look at him and think that she could find a ray of sunshine inside of him.

Vaggie finished off her popsicle with one aggravated bite. “This is bad news,” she said with her mouth full.

Angel checked his phone for messages. “You always say that.”

“And I’m always right!”

“We don’t know who Alastor really is.”

“Oh please! We know enough! We know him from his fucking radio show! He’s no good for Charlie! He’ll just break her fucking heart like all the other assholes!”

Angel looked up from his phone. “Charlie texted me the reason why Alastor and Adam got in a fight. You know too, huh? Since you followed her to the studio?”

“Well… yeah…”

“I think we’re witnessing in real time the Charlie effect happening to Alastor. She’s infecting him with her–uh, her–fuck, you know, her Charlie-ness. You know what I fucking mean. You think the Alastor from a month ago would have punched Adam for saying shit? Nah, he wouldn’t have given a fuck. But Vaggie, Alastor basically risked his entire career and fan base because Adam Evans said some shit about Charlie. Say what you want about him, but you need to give credit where credit is due–the guy cares about Charlie.”

Vaggie took a couple of deep breaths. This wasn’t how she imagined her confrontation with Angel to go. She was so convinced that she was right, but now she wasn’t so sure. “I guess,” she grumbled. "I mean, I'm still gonna watch him. Like a hawk. But yeah, I guess."

“Look, I had a shit night. As much as I love playing therapist, I’d rather get in bed and catch up on Real Housewives.” Angel stood up from the bean bag.

Vaggie knew when she was getting kicked out. Truthfully, she didn't want to go home and be alone, either. “Feel like watching it on the living room TV with company instead?”

Angel thought about it. Vaggie wasn’t his first choice to watch stuff with, let alone his second choice. She wasn’t like Cherri and Charlie, she was a bit more reserved, and she didn’t care for platonic cuddles or head scratches. However, he supposed it was better to have Vaggie with him instead of simmering in his self-loathing alone. Being alone could be a bad idea. “Fuck it, fine. But don’t be asking me questions every five minutes, and I reserve the right to stretch my legs out over your lap.”

~*~*~*~

Thursday arrived before anyone was ready for it.

Alastor should have expected the press to show up the next day. When he pulled into his assigned parking spot at the radio station, he saw the reporters and paparazzi waiting by the front door. He was glad that Charlie wasn’t with him. She had another cafe shift. It was 11:55 when Alastor pulled up to his workplace.

If he wasn’t in the office by noon Rosie would be upset with him. He had no idea what the public thought of the Radio Demon, if the fight yesterday made him a hero or put a target on his back. Truthfully, he didn’t care (he told himself he didn’t care, anyway), but that didn’t mean that he was in the mood to deal with relentless media. Alastor knew better than anyone how pestering the reporters and paparazzi could be.

He was a bit embarrassed to admit it (which is why he’d never admit it), but Alastor the fearless, unfiltered Radio Demon of the Seven Rings Radio Station was camera shy. It felt silly to think about it, he couldn’t imagine how ridiculous it would be to say out loud. He much preferred radio so his listeners could hear his voice instead of the ridiculous podcast idea where the camera was on him while he talked. What did it matter if the audience could see him or not? The point was to listen, anyway!

Alastor was glad that he at least had a spare pair of glasses. He would have to move away if the paparazzi snapped a picture of him with his crooked glasses from yesterday. How unsightly.

11:58 on his wristwatch.

“Fine,” Alastor muttered. He hustled out of his car, locked it, and began a fast walk towards the building. His mind whirled with ideas on how to get the attention off of him. He approached the front entrance from the side and so far he hadn’t been noticed, but there was no way he could enter the building without walking past them.

An idea struck the radio host. He couldn’t help but sneer at himself for thinking of such an idea, but he also couldn’t help the sneer because it would most likely work. Alastor lingered by the corner of the building, just out of sight. He was seven feet away from the doors, a distance easily crossed with his long legs. He cleared his throat and put on his best “female” voice, one that he’s used in the past to mock people, a voice that Rosie claimed made a baby cry.

“Oh my God, is that short king in that SUV?!” Alastor asked in his mock woman voice.

The reporters and paparazzi heard Lucifer’s nickname and instantly reacted. Anything they could get on Lucifer before the big debate was good money. “There! An SUV!” one reporter shouted, followed by a woman screaming, "Get him!"

The crowd ran away from the front door.

Without skipping a beat, Alastor slipped through the front door and entered the radio station undetected. “Fools,” he muttered.

~*~*~*~

She knew that today was going to be a stressful day and the jitters would be in full swing, but that didn’t stop her from getting a coffee at her shift anyway. It was Thursday and Charlie felt like she was going to faint from all the anticipation. Lucifer once told her that it was okay to have butterflies in her stomach so long as they flew in formation. Charlie imagined the butterflies in her stomach to be in panic mode and flailing around, some of them might even be on fire. There was no telling.

Work was a welcome distraction. She arrived at her shift at 7am sharp. Now that she didn’t work two jobs anymore, her cafe boss was happy to give her more morning shifts to help compensate. Charlie didn’t mind her server job, she really didn’t. The morning was filled with coffee refills, eggs, bacon, pancakes, then a thirty minute slow period, and onto lunch, which was filled with burgers, more bacon, sandwiches, french fries, etc.

Charlie needed as many distractions as she could get. She was scheduled to work until five instead of her usual three, and as soon as she was off work she would tune in and listen to Alastor’s show. She gave into temptation and checked her phone earlier in the morning while getting ready for work. Alastor dropped her off at work, they shared a quick smooch, and before she clocked in she got herself a cup of coffee.

There were a lot of upset Adam supporters. Charlie didn’t know how Alastor would handle it, but at least that was Rosie’s job to figure out. Alastor didn’t exactly have the tact, even Charlie knew it. She didn’t know what they would end up doing after his show tonight. Whether they’d end up back at his place, her apartment, or if they wouldn’t see each other, period. Today may feel bad, but tomorrow was a doozy. Not only was it Lucifer’s debate with Adam, but Alastor was determined to take her on a “proper date” that night. Oh, and she didn’t have a clue what she’d wear.

Perhaps a date was what she really needed. She didn’t want to think about her mental disrepair after the debate, because she knew already that Adam would be nasty. She was brought back to her teenage years where she helplessly watched as Adam attacked her dad and all she could do was ignore it. It didn’t matter that she was grown now, those same feelings remained the same.

“You’re not the same kid from when he ran against your dad the first time. You’re grown now, and you’re more capable than anyone.”

Alastor’s sweet words rang through her mind like a welcome wind chime. He meant every word, didn’t he? He thought her to be capable. He believed in her. Even from the very beginning, Alastor believed in her.

What was it he told her on the day he met her? The fateful day she walked into his office and met the enigmatic Radio Demon in person, with no idea that their fates were tied together from that moment on.

“Sometimes you don’t have to believe in the idea, darling. You just have to believe in the person.”

Charlie sighed. Did Alastor really believe in her back then, on the very day he met her? Or were those just sugar-coated words he told her to make her feel better about herself? Whether he did or not didn’t seem important, what mattered was that he believed in her now. She didn’t have to idly stand on the sidelines and watch her father get torn into by Adam Evans. She was a grown woman–she had a voice.

She was the voice, Alastor was the microphone.

“We won’t let Adam win.”

Charlie had to rapidly blink so she didn’t start crying. The emotions were high already, but she couldn’t just start crying at work. She desperately tried to steer her thoughts into happier territory. Alastor was already on her mind, so she thought about their time together last night. This time, she didn't fall asleep on top of him on the couch, instead they made it to his bed. His sheets were silky smooth against her skin. They hadn't had sex since that night in her apartment, which already felt like years ago even though it was earlier in the week. Charlie wouldn't have been against it, in fact, she hoped that Alastor would take the initiative to be inside of her. His cock filling her up was certainly a welcome distraction.

Alastor seemed to be hesitant about last night. He wasn't shy with his touches, kisses, and praises( "Oh Charlie, you were made for me"). She suspected that he had it in his stubborn head that he couldn't have sex with her again until he took her on a proper date. At least she didn't have to worry about whether or not he wanted to fuck her, she felt his erection when he spooned her last night. She asked him if he wanted to and he told her that he was a bit tired. Charlie was starting to pick up on when Alastor told weak white lies. Sure he was tired, but he wasn't tired.

She had decided not to push it. He gave her plenty of kisses, touches, and held her close until she fell asleep. All she had to do was wait until tomorrow night after their date. Then, he was all hers.

Just like that, 7am turned into almost 9:30 on the dot. Breakfast began to slow.

“You have a new table, heads up,” one of the waitresses said.

“Thanks,” Charlie replied. She grabbed a few menus and looked over to see who came in to sit down. All of the color drained from her face. Sure, she asked for a distraction, but the table in her section was more than a distraction–it was fuel to the fire.

Carmilla Carmine and her daughters sat at Charlie’s table.

“Oh shit,” Charlie whispered.

~*~*~*~

Rosie felt like a parent disciplining her child when she had her difficult talks with Alastor. She would never say that to his face, but he did have similar qualities with a child when he was under stress. First, he went into his tantrum phase, which was a lot of cursing, huffing, puffing, chain smoking: “I should have moved out of this fucking city when I had the chance, how presumptuous of me to expect them to have common sense! Half these people don’t know how to use a fucking blinker on the road!”

Then, he went into his bargaining phase, which was trying to come up with a different solution, Rosie held strong there’s no other solution, arguing, more arguing. “C’mon Rosie, you and I both know that we can do whatever we want. Why do I have to pick a side between Morningstar and Evans, huh? Why can’t I be my own side, the Radio Demon side? That’s my choice!”

Next, his pouting stage, where he throws himself a pity party and acts as if life isn’t fair and he should have expected this to happen, blah blah blah. “I suppose there’s no such thing as middle-of-the-road journalism, this society expects us to choose alliances. Gone are the free-thinking individuals who assess and criticize both sides. Our freedom is dying Rosie, dying!”

Finally, he accepts it and he’s a bit grumpy, until Rosie gives him some good news (too bad it wasn’t as simple as giving him some candy) and Alastor’s mood is back to normal.

This process usually lasted two hours. At least Rosie was on the clock getting paid for it.

She was braced for the anger phase when she sat Alastor down to update him. He already seemed on edge, and then he told her about the paparazzi and reporters he had to evade to go inside the building. Rosie made him a cup of black coffee and joined him at the table. “Look, our numbers are better than ever. There are a lot of people in this city who don’t like Adam Evans and are divided about voting for him. You have the potential to gain thirty-five percent more listeners, Alastor. That’s insane. This stance against the Evans campaign could have a large payout of views and listeners, despite the alienation of the Evans fanbase.”

Alastor sat and listened with a stone-faced expression. “But?” he asked.

Rosie steeled herself. “But the fanbase you’ll be gaining are Lucifer Morningstar supporters. You’ll need to form an alliance with him against Adam.”

Here comes the tantrum. Rosie could picture it now: Alastor laughing at such a “ridiculous” idea, his big grin of malice, the “are you serious?” rhetoric.

Alastor adjusted the glasses on his nose. “Okay.”

Rosie nearly spilled her cup of coffee. “Okay? Just okay? Oh-fucking-kay?”

“What’s wrong with my response?”

Rosie nearly stammered over her own words. “What happened to Lucifer being your greatest enemy? Your big money maker to criticize? You understand what I’m saying, right? You’ll be aligned with Lucifer, no more pot shots at him, it’ll alienate your new listeners. You’ll have to be nice Alastor, do you understand that? If we go down this avenue, Adam Evans is your new Lucifer Morningstar!”

Alastor shrugged his shoulders. “Understood.”

“Wh-why are you so cool with it?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say I’m cool with it.”

“You’re not upset!”

“Do you want me to be upset? Why are you upset?”

“I’m upset because you’re not upset!”

“...Okay?”

Rosie stood up from her seat and began to pace the room. “If we’re not careful, Adam could bury us. But if you aligned with Lucifer, even our big bosses upstairs couldn’t argue with your numbers. If we play our cards right, you could be on track to new heights of listeners, Alastor.”

He sipped his coffee. “The words you’re saying sound like good news, but the expression on your face makes me think it’s bad news.”

“It’s not bad news, it’s good news, but I expected to talk you through it.” Rosie shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, yeah, fine. We’ll draft up notes for today’s show. I honestly thought we’d be arguing for the next two hours, but it looks like we’re on the same page.”

Alastor nodded in agreement. "We have to take Adam down no matter the cost, Rosie. This has gone on far too long. Perhaps Lucifer isn't willing to dig his heels in and throw some shade, but I am. I'm ready to bury this fucker."

Rosie didn't doubt the conviction in his tone. "And Morningstar?"

He shrugged. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Isn't this what you pushed for? When you spoke of boundaries and talking to Charlie and communicating, whatever nonsense you spouted."

Rosie resisted the urge to hit him. "Did you talk to Charlie?" she asked with a tone. "About her father? About your show? Any of it?"

"No, not exactly."

"So you still didn't listen to me."

"Rosie, you make suggestions and I pick and choose if I listen to them. For your information, Charlie and I have talked at length. Just not about that particular subject. I know her feelings about Adam Evans and how she feels towards her buffoon father, mostly. And I can't be her partner, both in business and pleasure, and actively be against her family at the same time. It's very unbecoming. So this is a truce, and if I have to play nice to dad, I think it's well worth it. As long as Charlie is happy." Alastor clapped his hands together. “Want to order take out for lunch? I was thinking from the deli on 18th, we can have the food delivered to avoid reporters. It’s on me.”

Rosie narrowed her eyes. “Alright, what has possessed you? What parasite is inside of you? What happened to the Alastor who would have fought me tooth and nail on this?”

He narrowed his eyes right back at her. “Is it so wrong to come into work in a pleasant mood? What exactly am I on trial for? I assure you, Rosie, the only parasite is the beef stroganoff digesting inside of me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”

“It means Charlie was a darling and cooked for me last night. She used this… hamburger helper. And she thought it would taste good with cajun seasoning, I’m not entirely sure what her thought process was.”

Rosie couldn’t help but laugh. “You ate hamburger helper?” she asked with a cackle. “HA! Mr. Uppity Up ate hamburger helper? HAHAHAHA! This is coming from the same guy who complained that his muffaletta was too garlicky, who said his crispy bacon was too burnt, his eggs benedict wasn’t buttery enough, remember that one time you told the waiter that your hors d’oeuvres was too big because it took you three bites to eat instead of two?”

Alastor was not amused. “Why do you keep track of such frivolous things?” he growled.

“To you they’re frivolous, but to me, they’re secondhand embarrassment.” Rosie knew she needed to chill out. She took a deep breath. “Lunch, yeah, sounds good. What did you end up doing last night? Did you take Charlie home?”

Alastor looked at her like the answer was obvious and waited for her to catch up.

“Oh,” Rosie said. “Oh, I see. That’s why you’re in such a good mood, huh?”

He spun his chair so his back was to her. “I’ll let you call and place the order, I want my usual. And tell them that I want my reuben cut–”

“Cut diagonally,” Rosie said, finishing Alastor’s sentence with him. “I gotcha, boss.”

~*~*~*~

Charlie didn’t react well under pressure. She wished she was more like Vaggie, who could adapt to pretty much any crisis, or even Angel, who could talk his way out of most situations. Hell, she admired Rosie whose job was to put out fires left and right. Not Charlie. She knew this, and it didn’t make anything better to be self-aware, but at least she wasn’t kidding herself. There was the time she got stage fright in fourth grade for the Swan Princess play and while on stage she hid behind Tree #3 until the teacher had to shove her front and center on stage. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal… if Charlie hadn’t been cast as the Swan Princess. At least Lucifer was proud of her that day. “My little Charlie is the Swan Princess! Sweetie, I should take you to the park so you can perform your lines in front of the ducks, they’ll love it!”

When Charlie saw Carmilla Carmine and her two daughters at her table, she froze in her spot and was unable to move. This wouldn’t have been such a big deal if it weren’t for the fact that Carmilla was one of her dad’s contacts, and not to mention the fact that Carmine Industries might be a big donor for her rehab center! She hadn’t called the number that her dad gave her, she was way too overwhelmed with everything.

Carmilla Carmine was a woman in her mid-to-late forties, with a head full of white hair that she styled up in a tight bun. She was a tall woman, easily over six feet, and just her presence alone commanded respect. If Charlie remembered correctly, Carmilla had three daughters, but only two accompanied her to breakfast. One was Clara and the other was Odette. Normally Charlie wouldn’t have known them, but considering how long the Carmines had been involved in all business New Orleans related, it was impossible not to know who they were. Like the Evans family, the Carmines were a rich and powerful family in the city. However, unlike the Evans family, their business wasn’t oil.

They were arms dealers.

Wait, how was it that she’d been working at the cafe for years and Carmilla Carmine never dined until now? Charlie scrunched her nose. Please, please let it be that Lucifer didn’t intervene. How embarrassing would it be if Lucifer had somehow convinced Carmilla to come in and dine. For one thing, Charlie was at work, this wasn’t a place to pitch an idea. And she didn’t need her father’s help!

Charlie knew she had to move. They had been sitting for almost five minutes, it was inexcusable to leave them be for so long. She held her breath and walked over to the table. “Good morning, can I start y’all off with any drinks?”

“Orange juice,” the two daughters said in unison. They seemed close to Charlie’s age, certainly in their early twenties at the youngest.

“Coffee, black,” Carmilla said. There was no room for arguments in her tone.

“Great,” Charlie squeaked. She felt like she floated away.

What if Carmilla knew who she was? What if she didn’t know and then if Charlie got a meeting with her, she’d ask why she didn’t say earlier who she was? Charlie began to overthink as she poured the coffee. Her hands shook so much that she had to wipe down the mug.

“Charlie, it’s fine, it’s cool,” she muttered to herself. She was grateful that none of her coworkers had noticed her yet. “You don’t know what she’s doing here, she probably wants to have a nice breakfast with her daughters. Go give them their drinks.”

She did just that. Her hands trembled but she managed to set the coffee on the table with minimal spill. Carmilla and her daughters were looking at their phones. “Great! So um, do we know what we want to order?” Charlie asked.

“Wheat toast and scrambled eggs,” Odette answered.

“Same,” Clara replied.

“Pancakes,” Carmilla said.

“Okay,” Charlie agreed, smiling. She wasn’t sure what else to say, so she turned and walked away as fast as she could. She put the order in the system. The cooks would have it ready in ten minutes or less, just enough time for her to sneak away. Charlie looked left, then right, then dived for the back door outside the cafe. “Please answer, please answer, please answer…”

“Charlie?” the voice on the other end said.

“Vaggie!” Charlie shrieked.

“What’s up? I have a client I’m talking to in ten minutes, is something wrong?”

“Uh, remember when I told you that dad gave me Carmilla Carmine’s number to call and set up a meeting?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s here. At the diner.”

“Oh…”

Charlie checked over her shoulder and peaked through the window to see if she had any more people in her section. Thankfully, it was still just the Carmines. “What do I do? Introduce myself? Sell her my pitch?”

Vaggie was caught off guard by this. “Jeez, Char, I don’t know. You’re at work, right? She’s just trying to have breakfast. What kind of mood is she in?”

“Uh, hard to tell, I’ve never met her. She kinda has a resting bitch face. Respectfully, of course.” The phone beeped and Charlie checked her cell. Angel was calling her. “Hold on Vaggie, Angel is calling. I’ll merge the call. Hello?”

“Hey bitch, it’s me,” Angel said from the other line. “You didn’t come home last night did you–”

“Vaggie is here, too!” Charlie squeaked. “Say hi, Vaggie!”

“Hi,” Vaggie said dryly.

“Fuck,” Angel said. “Uh, yeah, haha except you did come home last night I remember seeing you. You were totally there.”

Vaggie groaned into the phone. “Oh for fuck’s sake! Angel, you don’t have to pretend that I don’t know for Charlie’s sake.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Angel stammered, playing dumb.

“Don’t know what?” Charlie asked.

“I know about you and Alastor!” Vaggie exclaimed. “And I know that you told Angel before me. It’s okay. Angel doesn’t have to pretend that he doesn’t know, we’re all on the same page. We can handle that situation later, for now, what are you going to do about Carmine?”

Charlie nearly fell over. She checked her call time; two minutes on the phone. She didn’t have much time. “Right, yes, we’ll talk about that later,” she said. That was something she could panic about in the future. “I don’t know what I should tell her. I didn’t expect her to come in! Should I explain my rehab center?”

Angel didn’t have full context, but thankfully, he didn’t need it. “Char, are you wearing a push up bra?” he asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You need to make sure your tits mean business.”

“That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Vaggie chimed in.

Angel was undeterred. “Charlie, you go in that diner, look Carmilla in the eyes, and tell her who the fuck you are and who the fuck your dad is. Lucifer gave you her number to set up a meeting. That you are important and you have matters to discuss. Don’t take no for an answer, be assertive!”

Charlie made a face. “This is like the Swan Princess all over again.”

Vaggie groaned. “Oh God, not the Swan Princess. That was such a disaster. You threw up in your backpack.”

“Charlie!” Angel yelled. “Do you want the Carmine family to fund your project?”

“Potentially?”

“Then go in there, chest up proud, and demand it! At least demand a meeting! You can do this, toots!”

Charlie checked her call time: five minutes. She sighed and curled her trembling hand into a shaky fist. “I can do this,” she repeated. “Okay guys, I’m going back in! Bye!”

She hung up, leaving Vaggie and Angel on the line. She had no idea that the two hung out the night before and watched trash reality TV, let alone that they ate her cinnamon toast crunch for a midnight snack. The air was awkward between them without Charlie as the glue. “Uh, that was pretty motivational,” Vaggie said.

“Yeah,” Angel agreed. “We’re getting ready to shoot BDSM scenes, I need to get into my dom frame of mind.”

“Okay, great talk. Later.”

The line ended.

~*~*~*~

“Uhh… Ms. Carmine?”

Without looking up from her phone, Carmilla gestured for Charlie to put the plate of pancakes in front of her. When she realized that Charlie was empty handed, she looked up to see what the hell was the hold up. Her waitress looked white as a ghost and like she was going to throw up. “You don’t have our food,” Carmilla stated.

Charlie swallowed a lump in her throat. “It’s, uh, almost up. Ms. Carmine, I’m Charlie.”

“Good for you,” Carmilla said.

“Usually intros are done when we’re first seated,” one of the daughters remarked.

“Morningstar,” Charlie finished. “I’m Charlie Morningstar.”

Charlie went her whole life trying not to use her dad’s fame to her advantage. She spent her entire adulthood trying to establish herself as a young woman in her own right with her own merit. There were only a few times Charlie used her last name to get what she wanted. This was one of those times. The moment Carmilla heard Lucifer’s last name, her expression went from one of annoyance to mild interest.

The older woman sized Charlie up. She eyed her like a hawk, Charlie wouldn’t be surprised if she saw the sweat beginning to form at her brow. “Yes, I see Lilith clear as day,” Carmilla said. “But you have Lucifer’s mannerisms. You are undoubtedly their daughter.”

Charlie couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or not. “I am,” she agreed. “Look, your food is almost up, I promise. I just, uh, wanted to ask you a question.”

Carmilla rested her elbows on the table and steepled her hands together to rest her chin on. She looked at Charlie with curious eyes. “Do you work at a cafe for what I assume to be barely over minimum wage because you’re bored? I can’t imagine you’d need a job for the rest of your young life, at least until you snag yourself a rich husband. Play your cards like your mother did.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. “I work to make a living,” Charlie said. “I don’t have any of my dad’s money.”

“Because he cut you off?”

“No, because I don’t want it. Th-th-this has nothing to do with my parents, this is all me.” There was always a downside to using her father’s name. With fame came scrutiny.

“You choose to be poor,” Carmilla stated rather bluntly. She chuckled and broke her eyes on Charlie to look at her own daughters. “The price of independence, girls,” she said. The daughters didn’t seem to be amused. Carmilla took a sip of her coffee. “Could this question have anything to do with your rehabilitation project, Charlie?”

“H-how did you know about that?”

“Oh please, you’re Lucifer’s daughter, I keep tabs on everyone. Not to mention, you’ve gained a bit of notoriety when you teamed up with Radio Demon.”

Charlie’s heart flipped in her chest when Alastor was mentioned. “You know who Alastor is?” she asked. She cursed herself for sounding so optimistic about it.

Carmilla looked back at Charlie. “Indeed. He’s been on the radio awhile, I’ve been a figure in the city for longer, we’ve crossed paths.” Her expression and voice was unreadable, she was made of ice. “Tell me, has he made a move on you yet? I’m very interested. I thought he wasn’t interested in romance, but those pictures on his blog make me think differently.”

A silence lapsed at the table. Charlie was speechless. Did Carmilla just say what she thought she said?!

“Mom! You can’t get in her personal business!” one of the daughters, Odette, exclaimed.

Charlie recovered quicker than she thought she would. “You think he likes me?”

Carmilla smiled wryly, despite the glares from Odette and Clara. “I think it’s painfully obvious, dear. I don’t know how you stand it, I would demand my personal space.”

“Not from Zestial,” Clara muttered.

Carmilla glared at her daughters briefly before focusing back on Charlie. “You have ambition, Charlie. Just like I did when I was your age. However, I’m not sure if choosing to cut yourself off from your father’s money is an admirable decision or a stupid one. You’re turning your back on an opportunity that a lot of young women would kill for, that a lot of young people don’t have.”

Charlie knew that was coming, yet it didn’t help ease the sting of her words. She held her hands behind her back and squeezed her fingers together. She forced herself to look at Carmilla Carmine in her cold, calculating eyes. For a fleeting moment, she saw her mother’s eyes, and the brief image of Lilith brought Charlie back to her teenage years.

“You’re grown now.”

Alastor’s words played through her head at the right moment. Charlie steeled herself. “I know I come from money,” she said in a low voice. “I know my privilege, I wouldn’t dare deny it. I’m just trying to do something good for my city and my people from the bottom of my heart, I just want to help the people who need help. And maybe I’m being stupid about it… in fact, I know I’ve been stupid about a lot of things… but I’m trying. That’s all that matters.”

The two daughters actually smiled at Charlie’s speech. Clara clapped once. Carmilla’s face seemed to soften, although her eyes were still cold. “I’ll tell you what, you bring me my pancakes and my daughters their wheat toast and eggs, and I’ll have my assistant get in touch with you.”

Wait, was this her version of yes? It had to be, why else would her assistant contact her? Charlie’s vision doubled from the excitement. “Yes, Ms. Carmine! But, uh, how exactly will your assistant get my number?”

“Silly girl, I have my ways. Now, I’d also like a refill.”

“Right away.”

Charlie grabbed Carmilla’s coffee mug and nearly ran back to the server station. She did it. She got a yes for a meeting with Carmine! She couldn’t wait to tell Alastor. She couldn’t wait until he was in her personal space.

Notes:

And there we have it! This is the first time I'd call this chapter a filler chapter. I know filler chapters aren't necessarily a bad thing, sometimes they're helpful. There are big events happening in the next chapters and I needed this to serve as a building block. The last big event was the fight, and this chapter focused on the characters' reactions to said fight.

The running prompt I had in my mind was the chaotic phone call between Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel xD

There will be more Charlastor next time (IT'S THE BIG DATE, GUYS) as well as plot progression, I promise!

As always, thank you sinners for keeping up and reading, I truly appreciate it! <3

Chapter 13

Summary:

THE BIG DATE.... part one!

Charlie was a bit nervous by the idea of Vaggie coming over and helping her pick out an outfit. This wasn’t the first time she went out with someone that Vaggie didn’t approve of, but this was the first time Vaggie so vehemently didn’t like the suitor. She didn’t want the mood for the evening to be ruined (she was so excited that she got goosebumps just thinking about it), but at least Angel was there to temper Vaggie.

The date was at 6:00 sharp and Alastor would pick her up from the apartment. Angel just got off a shift and was home. Charlie could tell that he was tired and something was bothering him, but he put on a happy face and focused on her. “You want to talk about it?” Charlie asked him.

Angel waved her off. “Don’t worry about it, toots. Sometimes people just think they know me, y’know? And they make assumptions and think they’re real smart, like they know my life.”

“Do you want–”

“Nope, this is your night, Char. Don’t worry about me and my trivial shit.” Charlie made an unsure face. She wasn’t sold on his pitch. Angel sighed, “It’s got nothing to do with Valentino, okay?”

That set Charlie’s mind at ease a bit. “Okay,” she agreed. “Right, so Vaggie will be here shortly and we–”

Knock! Knock!

Vaggie gave two short knocks before walking through the front door. “Hey,” she greeted. As it happened, Charlie and Angel were in the living room having their discussion. Vaggie had her makeup bag. “Just in case you want to use some of my lip gloss,” she offered, holding up the bag.

Charlie sniffled. “Oh Vaggie, you’re going to make me cry!”

“For bringing you lip gloss?”

“For helping me get ready for my date even though you don’t like Alastor!” Charlie cried. She ran across the room and practically leaped into Vaggie for a hug. She held her friend tightly. “It means so much to me. I know you don’t approve, but I promise you, I’ll be careful. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Vaggie hugged her taller friend back. “I’ll always worry about you, Charlie.”

“Ya better cry now before you put your makeup on,” Angel commented. He walked over and joined their hug, too. He was still pissed about Husk, and even though the girls didn’t know it, he figured he could use some physical affection as well. What were they gonna do, say no? Please.

The hug lasted at least ninety seconds, Charlie crying into Vaggie and Angel’s shirt, Angel thinking about what he’d do for dinner, and Vaggie sneakily pulled her phone out and started scrolling her Facebook. It wasn’t until Vaggie’s phone started playing a video reel that Charlie and Angel leaned back and looked at her phone. “Sorry, I haven’t checked my phone all day,” Vaggie said, although she didn’t sound very sorry.

“During our little moment?” Angel asked, feigning offense.

“Wait, was that the cat video?” Charlie asked.

“Okay, break apart,” Vaggie said. They stopped hugging. Vaggie took a deep breath. “We don’t have much time. Angel, you do makeup, I’ll do hair. Do you have an outfit in mind, Char?”

She blushed a little at the question. “Uh, sorta. Anything red, I think it’s his favorite color.”

~*~*~*~

The last time Alastor had nerves was when he broke up with Mimzy (he was certain she would start swinging at him in a blind fury) and the very first show he did as his Radio Demon persona. It was an interesting time for the latter, back then Alastor was a young man in his early twenties, assigned to work with a very loud, assertive, and what he would describe as brash young woman named Rosie. He was sure that he wouldn’t work with her long, and from what he heard, finding a new producer was a pain in the ass. Seven Rings Radio Station assigned them to work together, and it was a bad look for him to complain about Rosie after just one show.

As it turned out, the one show turned into years and years worth of shows. Alastor was correct in his assessment of Rosie: she was loud, assertive, and quite brash when she needed to be. As he discovered over the years, she was also smart (arguably smarter than him, although he’d never vocalize it), caring, and above all else, she gave a shit. About him, about the show, about their partnership. He wasn’t sure when he transitioned his thoughts of Rosie from coworker to family, but it seemed to happen organically.

All this was to say that when he pulled up to Charlie’s apartment, he dialed Rosie before he turned the car off.

“Are you at the house?” Rosie asked when she answered.

“Hello,” Alastor said. It threw him off that she didn’t answer her phone with hello as a greeting.

“Are you at the house?” Rosie repeated.

“Yes.”

“Do you have flowers?”

“Yes.”

“Roses?”

“Yes, a dozen of them.”

“Good. How are you feeling boss, ready to romance her? You better open doors for her and pay for the dinner and–”

“Yes, yes, Rosie, I wasn’t raised in a barn,” Alastor interrupted. For heaven's sake, he was raised by his mother and grandmother, the traditional southern gentleman in him was easily accessible. He knew that Rosie would ask him why he called her. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure. On one hand, he didn’t want to admit how nervous he was. On the other hand, it was obvious why he would be. Years and years of being alone, no romance, no girlfriends, no dates… he still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea that he fell so hard and so fast for Charlie.

Rosie sensed his hesitation on the phone. The lapse of silence spoke louder than anything he could say to her. “Listen Al, you’ve got this,” Rosie encouraged. She didn’t forget their earlier conversations in the office, where Alastor gave her a glimpse into his self esteem. He didn’t seem to have a high opinion of himself, and Rosie knew better than anyone how easy it was for him to slip into his self-loathing.

“She hasn’t run away yet,” Alastor said. He wasn’t kidding.

“That’s right,” Rosie agreed. “You’re doing great. I know I give you a lot of shit, and you deserve most of it, but you’re doing great, Al. If you need anything, just call me. And don’t go getting into fist fights, yeah?”

He smirked. “I make no promises.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Alastor hung up the phone. He took a deep breath and stared at his reflection in his rear-view mirror. Perhaps he needed to accept that Charlie Morningstar really did like him. She was very close to seeing behind his grin, a feat that no one had ever come close to accomplishing. Alastor tapped his steering wheel and gathered up his courage. There were nerves inside of him, it was true. But with the nerves came determination–he was going to be the best lover that Charlie ever had. He would put all her other partners to shame.

Slowly, his confidence came back to the surface of his mind. Charlie hadn’t run yet, knowing there was a darker side inside of him. If she stayed by his side, he would go to the end of the world for her. If she didn’t run away from him, he’d show her what it was really like to be worshiped.

Alastor got out of his car. He wore a grin as he did so.

~*~*~*~

Vaggie and Angel lingered by the front window and watched Charlie practically bounce outside to meet Alastor. He was dressed nice in a pair of black slacks, a red overcoat, a red vest, and a white undershirt. The bright colors did his complexion justice. The two watched Charlie give him a hug and Alastor give her a kiss on her forehead.

“He’s being reserved,” Vaggie noted.

“Yeah, cause he knows we’re watching,” Angel remarked.

They watched Alastor lead Charlie to his car and open the passenger’s door for her. “Well, I better get going,” Vaggie said quickly. She already had her sweater on and her keys in her hand. “Catch you later, Angel!”

He was suspicious of the way she made quick work to leave the apartment. Angel waved goodbye and watched Vaggie make a phone call as she went to her car. “Nothing good is coming from this,” he muttered. He took matters into his own hand and quietly followed Vaggie. Angel was a good ten feet behind her and was barefoot, therefore he had no footfalls to give him away.

“Yeah, it’s me. She’s on the move. Where do you want to meet?” Vaggie asked.

Angel heard the voice on the other end. It was a deep voice, loud and clear. “The TJ Maxx parking lot in ten minutes.”

Husk.

Angel watched Vaggie get in her car. “Oh hell to the no,” he said. “There’s no way in hell that you’re gonna ruin this for Charlie… and no way in hell are you going to conspire with Husk!”

He knew that he had to follow them. However, Angel remembered that his car had less than ten miles of gas in it. There was no way he’d be able to get gas and make it to the parking lot to follow them in time. Angel let out a frustrated huff. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He pulled out his cell and dialed as Vaggie pulled out of the residential parking lot.

“Yeah, Niffty? Are you busy? I need you to drive like hell over here and pick me up… we’ve got a situation.”

~*~*~*~

“You look stunning,” Alastor said when he saw Charlie. He kicked himself for not thinking of a better word, it seemed no word in the English dictionary could perfectly describe how beautiful Charlie Morningstar was.

He was beyond delighted to see that she wore his favorite color and that they matched for their date. Charlie wore a red dress that was v-neck shaped, sleeveless, held up with noodle straps, and cinched at the waist to illustrate her curves. The skirt flowed out and was perfect for moving around and twirling. She wore red lipstick to match her dress, eyeliner, and a pair of red heels–not too high, but enough to give her an extra inch.

“You do, too,” Charlie said with a smile. She hugged Alastor tightly and breathed in his scent. They decided not to see each other Thursday night, which meant that she hadn’t seen him since he dropped her off at work yesterday morning. It was torture to be away from him, but heavens above, it felt so good to finally hug him.

He returned her hug with fervor and kissed her forehead. “Shall we?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yes, please.” When she got into the car, she saw the roses. “Oh, Al!”

He grinned when he sat in the driver’s seat. “I hope you like them.”

“I love them. No one has ever bought me flowers!” Charlie gushed. She couldn’t help her big grin. “They smell divine! I’ll have to put them in a vase! Oh, well, I’ll have to get a vase.”

“I have a vase at my place, if that’s where you want to end up tonight,” Alastor offered.

She had her clothes and toiletries at his place. “Sounds like a plan,” Charlie said. God, she couldn’t wait to get the date over so she could go back to his place and get lost in him. Five days without sex, she felt like she was going crazy. It was stupid, sure, and silly, probably. She hadn’t been in a relationship for years and years before Alastor, five days wasn’t the end of the world.

It just felt like it.

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“That’s right.”

“Good. The place we’re going has food and drinks.” He looked at her when he stopped at the red light. “Look, I plan on giving you the best evening I can give you, darling. But if you have your father’s debate on your mind and you want to discuss it, it won’t bother me.”

“You mean that?”

“I do.”

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek. She watched her dad's debate earlier when it aired. Tom Trench and Katie Killjoy were the hosts. Lucifer seemed off to say the least when he went against Adam. Charlie felt strange when she watched her father on the screen. He looked upset about something. It went deeper than being upset at Adam, that was a given. No, it was the way her father smiled at the audience and waved to the crowd; the joy didn't touch his eyes. He was hiding something underneath.

But how was she supposed to vocalize that to Alastor? Would he even care?

Charlie sighed. "Dad answered all his talking points with no problem. He had a strong day, I'm sure of it. But he wasn't very aggressive. Adam Evans had no problem making jabs, sometimes I wish dad would do it back."

Alastor seemed invested in what she said. "Does he have a meek campaign manager?" Alastor asked.

Charlie laughed. "Ha! No! Well, uh, not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't know? Mom used to be dad's campaign manager all those years ago. That's why they both worked such long hours. I'm not sure how much they worked together, you know, dad was always the front man and mom was behind the scenes." Now, so much time had passed that Charlie couldn't remember very well the times that they worked together. Politics was a big topic in their household, both Lucifer and Lilith sharing ideals and agreeing and disagreeing respectfully. At first, it was mainly agreeing. Towards the end, it was a lot of disagreeing.

Alastor shook his head. "Well, I'm not sure how hypocritical it is of me to say so, but it sounds like that was a bad idea in hindsight."

"Why would that make you a hypocrite?"

He glanced at her. They happened to be at a red light. "Well Charlie, we started out as business partners working together on your rehab project. Now we're on a date."

She smiled. "Correction, now we're dating."

"That proves my point even further," he grinned. "So after Lilith left, Lucifer never replaced her as his campaign manager?"

"Nope, not that I'm aware of. I mean, dad knows how to play the game, he's been in it long enough."

Alastor looked back forward. The light was green. "Sometimes people need a second-in-command," he mused. "I know the radio game, I've been on the air for years. But if I didn't have Rosie, I don't think I would have lasted as long as I have. She pushes me, both in productive and unproductive ways, but it works out in the end."

Charlie considered his words. After all, it was Rosie who called her up and asked her if she wanted to guest star on the Radio Demon show that one fateful day. Without Rosie, they wouldn't be in the car on the way to their date spot. "So dad should get a campaign manager?" Charlie asked.

"He should get someone who pushes him out of his comfort zone."

"Well... I'll put that suggestion in my back pocket. I do have some news, however.”

“Do tell.”

“I have a scheduled meeting with Carmilla Carmine. She came into the cafe yesterday to eat and I told her who I was and about my project. She said she knew you. Her assistant called me today and she wants me to meet with her on Monday morning, 9:00. If you want to come with me… well, you’re welcome to. You are my business partner. Heck, Rosie can come, too! I may even ask Vaggie to come. Just, you know, moral support.”

Alastor was aware of Carmilla Carmine. He didn’t feel strongly about her in any way, good or bad, she seemed to keep her affairs in firearms only. “You want her to donate to the center?” he asked.

“Well, dad said she was one of the biggest funders in the city. If she funded my project, she could get us a foot in the door with the other big funders of the city.”

Alastor nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Carmilla Carmine holds the annual charity balls every year. That’s where I first met her, at one of her charity fundraisers. I was assigned as one of the charity announcers, it was my job to hold the microphone and announce to the crowd when so-and-so made a donation. Not my choice to be there, of course, I was volunteered by the radio station.”

Alastor remembered that day, all those years ago. He was there with Rosie as his plus one and Vox was sent there with Velvette as his plus one. Velvette kept giving Alastor dirty looks from across the ballroom. Vox and Alastor had to work together to announce the top five biggest donation names, it was a terrible time. He didn’t even speak to Carmine, she was too busy mingling with bigger and better people.

However, what Charlie said was absolutely true. Carmilla Carmine would be a game changer if she donated to Charlie’s project.

“So you’ll go?” Charlie asked, her voice unsure.

He reached his hand out and put it on her lap. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he assured. He didn’t have to look over to know she was smiling.

~*~*~*~

They went thirty minutes out of town, more towards a smaller town surrounding the big city that was more bayou. Charlie was surprised, she took Alastor as a city boy. She didn’t take him for someone who would eat from a hole-in-the-wall fried food place, which typically was found in places like these. She was surprised when he pulled into a dirt driveway and saw an old but beautiful white building that was built on stilts near the bayou waters. There were cars and boats parked around it and she could hear music playing from inside. The sign read “Jazzy’s Club” with a neon picture of a man with a saxophone.

“Is this…” Charlie said.

“A jazz club,” Alastor declared proudly. “The closest one to us for another fifty miles. I come here once a month if I can. You don’t have to worry about Valentino getting his claws into this place, dear.”

Charlie turned to him. “Hold on, wait, wait, wait, wait… so this is a place where we like… dance?”

He grinned. “Can you dance?”

“Not well, but I love to dance!” Charlie exclaimed. She hurriedly unbuckled her seat belt. “Let’s go!”

He was pleased by her enthusiasm. Truthfully, he was nervous if she’d like this place or not. He felt at home in places like these. Alastor led Charlie inside, his arm crossed over hers, and the hostess instantly recognized him. “Do my eyes deceive me? You have a plus one!” the older lady laughed when she saw him. “Hello darling, my you look beautiful. You want your usual spot, Alastor?”

“That would be lovely, Shelly.”

The hostess winked at Charlie and walked them through the main ballroom and dining area. There were couples on the dance floor already. There was a live jazz band playing, a group of five people who played in perfect sync. This was nothing like the bars and clubs that Charlie was used to–the dancing wasn’t bumping and grinding, that was for sure. The couples on the dance floor were doing actual moves from dances, like fox trot, quickstep, and jive. Charlie wasn’t sure how she would do with technical dancing. Her experience was drunk college swaying and watching five seasons of Dancing with the Stars. But she used to imagine herself on the show, twirling and moving like a professional dancer.

They sat down at a small table by the corner, facing the dance floor. Every table had white tablecloth, a candle, and a small vase of flowers. Charlie took in the sight of everything. The wait staff wore nice dress shirts and slacks. A waiter came up rather quickly and Alastor ordered his usual, Charlie agreeing to drink the same. She wasn’t surprised when the usual ended up being whiskey. She never looked at the food menu, she was too enthralled with the dancing.

“Do you know what you want?” Alastor asked gently.

“Oh, shoot,” Charlie said. She tore her eyes off the dancers and looked at the menu. “Uh…”

Alastor nodded at the waiter. “I’ll have the shrimp scampi.”

“So will I!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Excellent,” the waiter said, writing the order down. He took the menus and nodded.

Alastor and Charlie were finally left alone at the table; just them, their glasses of whiskey, and the jazz music and dancing in the background. It was finally happening… the date. The date that Rosie nagged and nagged for Alastor to take Charlie on.

“Thank you for taking me here,” Charlie smiled.

“Thank you for being patient with me,” Alastor said back. He took a sip of his whiskey. “I discovered this place not long after my mother’s funeral. She was buried not far from here, this was the town she grew up in. I figured it was better to bury her near her childhood home, on the same plot of land that my grandmother was buried in.”

Charlie took in every crumb of information that he gave her about his life and stored it away in her mind. “Where did you grow up?” she asked.

His smile visibly tightened. “In a suburb not far from the city. A few neighborhoods over from here. I’d have to take a bus to the city if I wanted to visit. I grew up in an old, creaky home with a roof that constantly leaked and mother put a bucket to catch the water. It was a one bedroom and I shared a room with my mother until I was older and decided to take the living area as my ‘bedroom’ for privacy purposes. We lived close to the bayou. A lot of hunting and fishing enthusiasts, as you can imagine.”

Charlie wouldn’t have guessed that Alastor was a country boy. She really didn’t have a single idea of what to expect about him. He was an enigma, one that she was closer and closer to figuring out every single day.

“Do you ever miss the suburbs? The small town life compared to the hustle and bustle of the city?” Charlie asked.

He regarded her with amused eyes. “Oh, is this the part in the movie where I reveal my country background and you convince me to go back to my hometown roots?” he asked sarcastically.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “What chick flicks have you watched?”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “I try not to watch them, but Rosie likes to play them in the background while she works. They’re very predictable. But to answer your question, sometimes. I think it’s natural to miss certain things about our youth, even if the situation we were in wasn’t the best, let alone ideal.” Alastor picked up his glass of whiskey and took another sip. “I never order lemonade, yet I remember the lemonade mother would make me on a hot summer day. She knew sweet tea was too sweet for me. I’ve never had lemonade since her last batch, but I can taste it on my tongue if I think hard enough. There are things I do miss about my youth, dear, but there are plenty of things I don’t miss, and unfortunately those things are just as prevalent in my memory as the lemonade.”

Charlie didn’t know what to say. Alastor seemed to have slipped into a pensive mood. She didn’t want to ruin the mood of the date with just one question. It was a careful balance between finding out more about Alastor without running the risk of sending him into melancholy. Charlie took a drink of her whiskey, nearly finishing off the glass. “You know what I think,” she said, hiccupping from drinking too quickly. “You should create new memories. Like the hamburger helper.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “How does hamburger helper prove your point?”

“Well, when I was a kid, the nannies used to make hamburger helper. And if I really wanted to, I’d associate it with all the nights I ate dinner alone at the table, or the nights I’d take it to my room so I couldn’t hear mom and dad fight downstairs. Hamburger helper was never a meal I ate with my parents at the dinner table. It was just another reminder of how alone I was.” Charlie finished off her whiskey and shivered. “But! I didn’t let hamburger helper be a negative in my life! I let it be positive! I took control!”

He smirked. “Yes, I’m sure you did.” Alastor checked his wrist watch. “The food usually takes twenty minutes. We have enough time for a dance.”

“Oh, with me?”

“Who else?” Alastor barked. He chuckled and stood up from his seat. He extended a hand. “Charlie, may I have this dance?”

A million thoughts went through her head. Was she going to embarrass herself? Did this mean he was actually in a good mood? How much was he willing to teach her?

Fuck it, Charlie thought. She grabbed his hand.

Without another word, he led her onto the dance floor.

~*~*~*~

Their food sat on the table untouched for ten minutes until the two stumbled back to the dining table, both of them completely flushed and tired.

Alastor proved himself to be quite the capable teacher. All Charlie could do was hold on tight and follow his lead. He nodded at the band and the front man with the saxophone gave him a wink back. “We want something fun tonight?” he asked with a grin.

“We do,” Alastor grinned back.

The band started to play upbeat jazz music that had such a catchy beat it was impossible not to dance to. Alastor held both of Charlie’s hands. Even with her heels, he had quite a height over her. He showed her how to twist her feet, which she picked up quickly. Then he showed her how to kick step, and Charlie found it to be especially fun when they synchronized on their steps together. She had no idea how she looked to a third party, but she didn’t think they were half bad! Alastor spun her around, bodies together, step back, kick step, together, shimmy. His eyes were on her and his hands never let her go except to spin her.

Charlie couldn’t hear her own laughter over the music. She didn’t realize she was smiling so wide until her mouth hurt, and when she looked up she saw that Alastor was grinning, too.

Is this what a genuine smile looks like on him? Charlie wondered with wide eyes as she peered up at him through her blonde bangs. This is Alastor really smiling, isn’t it?

“C’mon darling,” Alastor instructed.

They moved away from their spot and started to move around the dancefloor. The other couples accommodated accordingly with no issue, they were pleased to see Charlie’s new face and how much fun she had. Charlie was nervous to move around instead of staying in her one spot, but Alastor made sure that she stayed in line with him. The music really picked up, the beat was unstoppable. Without realizing it, Charlie danced faster, all to keep up with him. Swing, kick-step, shimmy, dip.

Suddenly, the music was over. Charlie was upside down in a dip, Alastor leaned over her expertly to hold her body. He eased her back up on her feet.

The crowd around them applauded.

Charlie turned red. “They’re clapping?!” she asked with genuine surprise.

Alastor couldn’t help his cheeky grin. “For the band, darling.”

She felt like crawling under the table and hiding in the tablecloth. “Oh.”

“I think our food is ready. And I think we’ll need some drinks, don’t you?”

As Alastor led her to the table, they heard a loud, “GET HIM!” in the thunder of the clapping. Alastor looked up and at the ballroom. He searched the crowd. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still, he was sure he heard someone yell in distress.

“This is delicious!” Charlie beamed from her seat. She already dug into her scampi.

He decided to let it go and sat down at the table. A waitress who was not the waiter who served them the first time approached their table. She wore clothes that were much too big for her and a very obviously cheap curly blonde wig. “How is everything this evening?” she asked.

“Uhm, good,” Charlie answered.

The woman nodded. “Good, yes, good. So you’re feeling good, nothing out of the ordinary?”

“No?” Charlie asked, confused.

“If you would please let us enjoy our meal,” Alastor growled from his seat.

The small woman straightened up. “Yes, of course. As long as everyone is respectful and keeps it cash money.” She walked away, the clank of her heels obvious on the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Alastor asked.

Charlie shrugged. “Entertainment, I guess? Come on, don’t frown. Tell me about the chick flicks Rosie has made you suffer through!”

~*~*~*~

She convinced him to try her devil's food cake. "I plan on having dessert later," Alastor told her. He took a bite anyway. He mulled it over, deciding if he liked it or not. She watched him with big, hopeful eyes. He took another bite.

"HA!" Charlie cheered from her seat. She coughed and turned away to drink some water. "I mean, uh, yay sharing is caring!"

Alastor paid for the meal and they drove home in comfortable silence. Charlie sat with the roses on her lap and enjoyed the scent of them. If this date had taken place a week ago, Charlie would have overthought the reason for Alastor's silence. Tonight, she was content in the silence with him. He hummed a song she didn't recognize and she rested her head against the window and watched the dark roads ahead.

She had no idea what kind of beast was bottled up inside of Alastor until they made it back home to his apartment. He waited until she stepped through the threshold of the home before he relinquished his self control.

“Home sweet ho–”

Her proclamation never came. She had enough time to set the roses on the table near the front door and that was it. Alastor picked her up and carried her to the couch, crushing her between himself and the cushions. His mouth was all consuming on hers and he pressed his full weight into her as he kissed her deeply. Charlie, of course, allowed herself to be consumed. This was what she wanted, fuck, this was what she craved all week. She was suddenly glad for the five days they spent avoiding sex, because the shivers inside of her had never been stronger.

The only sound in his apartment was the sound of lips molding into each other. Alastor didn’t hold back, he tipped her face at the perfect angle beneath him so he could really taste her. His tongue slipped eagerly into her mouth as his hands traveled all over her body. He had to have her; he had to claim her, to show her how crazy she made him. His hand slipped under the skirt of her dress and he grabbed himself a handful of her ass. She moaned in response and bucked her hips up into him. His erection was there to greet her pelvis.

Alastor moved his mouth off of hers and lifted up to look down at his beauty. A line of spit was between their mouths, just like the first time they kissed. Charlie panted beneath him. He literally took her breath away. She was red in the face, eyes widened, and absolutely a vision. He kept his hand on her ass and used the other one to run up her torso and palm her breast through her dress. He knew that his full weight was on her, so he eased up the pressure by digging his knees into the couch to give her some relief. Charlie arched into his touch, pushing her boob further into his hand.

“Alastor,” she moaned.

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He pushed the material of her dress to the side. He expected her to wear a bra, but he didn’t expect it to be a lacy red pair that so delicately covered her nipple. “What’s this?” he asked, the excitement obvious in his tone.

Charlie stifled a giggle. “You didn’t think I’d wear granny panties on our date, did you?” she asked him cheekily.

Fuck, he was hard. Alastor leaned up and straddled Charlie on the couch. “The dress, darling. Shall I rip it off or will you take it off for me?”

“Don’t you dare rip it!” she squeaked. He laughed at her flustered response. Charlie shrugged off the shoulder straps and peeled the dress down to her midsection. Alastor saw the red bra on full display against her creamy skin. “Help me with the rest?” Charlie asked.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He peeled her dress all the way down her body and discarded it on the coffee table before resuming his straddle position on top of her. Charlie was beneath him in her lacy red lingerie; the bottoms left little to the imagination and barely covered her pubic area. Alastor gaped down at her; his mouth might have been open, and he might have been salivating.

The need inside of him was too strong to resist. He didn’t just want Charlie–he wanted, no, needed to fuck her senseless.

Charlie felt like she was on fire. The look in Alastor’s eyes was wild. She truly felt like his prey in that moment, like he was the predator who would consume her whole. When was the last time someone looked at her with their complete, undivided attention? She noticed his hand tremble when he felt her breasts through the fabric of her bra. She felt the anticipation emanating off of him.

“I want it,” Charlie whispered. She looked him in the eyes and faced the hunter head on. “I want all of it.”

Alastor grinned. It wasn’t a front like his other grins. It was a genuine grin of sadistic satisfaction, a perfect blend of Alastor and the Radio Demon underneath. A hybrid of himself that was for Charlie’s eyes only. He freed her breasts from the bra and brought his mouth down to take a nipple in his mouth. One hand pinched her nipple while the other one was swirled by his tongue. With his other free hand, he reached back down and grabbed her ass roughly. Charlie surrendered herself to his ministrations. It felt so good for his tongue to swirl against the nerves of her nipple. She wanted this attention. More specifically, she wanted his attention.

“Fucking perfect,” Alastor groaned before switching his mouth to the other nipple. He repeated the same swirling motion with his tongue. His other hand gripped her other ass cheek, roughly grabbing as much as it could hold.

Charlie desperately needed his touch to stimulate her in other areas. “Please,” she moaned.

He grinned into her boob. “Mhm, all in good time, Charlotte.”

She bucked her hips up into his in protest. The hand that was on her ass left and he cupped her sex. The length of his hand nearly covered the expanse of her. “Yes,” she hissed. Alastor continued to give attention to her boobs but took mercy on her and moved his two fingers up into her slit. He barely poked his fingers in and she was already soaking wet.

“Oh, you want me that badly?” Alastor asked with a haughty grin. He didn’t think his chest could swell up any bigger. Charlie’s desire for him was clear as day. He began to pump into her, fucking her with his two digits at a slow, steady pace. The tightness around his fingers was just a preview of what was to come when it was replaced with his cock. Charlie moaned as he pumped her. And Alastor buried his face between the valley of her breasts. “Does it feel good?” he asked with his mouth pressed against her skin.

“Ye-eh-es,” Charlie moaned. “Fuck, Al, fuck.”

He wanted to commit her desperate whines to memory. With his fingers inside of her, he experimentally spread them, scissoring inside of her folds. Her muscles contracted in response and Charlie thrust her hips into his hand for more. Charlie had to do something with her hands–she settled for gripping his hair, where she guided his mouth back to her boob. He grinned at her actions and complied, happily giving her pert nipples more attention.

Time didn’t exist between them. There was no telling how long Alastor fucked her with his fingers, no idea how long Charlie writhed underneath his attention and let his mouth devour her breasts. When he hit that right spot and the pressure began to build, her hands tightened deliciously in his hair, and he knew to keep that same tempo. Charlie felt her sweet release build and she tore Alastor’s mouth off her boobs and coaxed him higher to kiss her. He didn’t need to be told twice. He met her lips with a smile and it was tongue, teeth, and spit as Charlie came around his fingers. He pumped her through it in a slow, steady rhythm. Her entire body shuddered as she came down from her high; he swallowed her moans, drank up her sighs.

Charlie fell back into the couch limp from exertion. Alastor kissed her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, and went back to the valley of her breasts. No boob sucking, just kisses. Down her ribs, her belly button, and then back up her torso to her chin again.

“Fuck, Al,” Charlie murmured. Her voice was shaky.

“That was the warm up,” he promised with a grin. His eyes held her gaze as he lifted the two fingers that he used to fuck her and licked them clean. Charlie watched him in a lust-filled haze. Alastor took his fingers out of his mouth and put them inside of hers. She eagerly sucked them and savored the mixture of her release and his spit on them. “Good,” Alastor praised. “Just like that.”

Charlie popped his fingers out and reached up to cradle his neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist. She was still wearing her lingerie, even though the bra was pathetically bunched up around her waist and her panties were a soaking wet mess. He was still fully clothed minus his overcoat, which simply would not suffice.

“Al,” Charlie whispered.

“Yes, darling.”

“I want to pleasure you back.”

“Oh, you will.”

“Not penetration.” Alastor lifted a single eyebrow in curiosity. Charlie braced herself. “Alastor… will you let me blow you?”

The emboldened confidence fizzled a bit from his face. “I–you–,” he stammered.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it and don’t want me to do it again!” Charlie exclaimed. “It’s just, you know, you pleasure me so well, Al. Your fingers, your tongue, your dick goes without saying. I want to even the score a little bit. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“It’s not a contest, dear.”

“I know, I know.” Charlie sat up on the couch. He watched in a daze as she stood up, took his hand, and led him to sit up on the couch properly. Alastor was hesitant, she knew it, his body language said as much. He trusted her, however, and she wasn’t going to let him down. Alastor sat upright, his cock straining against his pants, and he spread his legs. Charlie sank to her knees between his legs and rested her chin on his thigh. “Can you tell me what makes you hesitant about it?”

He wished she hadn’t asked him a question, because the sight of her knelt down at his feet and between his legs was enough to turn his mind to mush. “Uh,” Alastor stammered. One of the very rare times the Radio Demon was ever reduced to an “uh” in his life. “Well, I’m not sure how to… well… explain it.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Try?”

He cursed himself under his breath. “Control, I guess, Charlie. I’m at your mercy. What if I thrust too hard? What if I hurt you?”

Charlie smiled and reached up to grab his hand. She kissed his palm sweetly and held back a grin. “You’re so sweet. You won’t. I promise.”

“This is me surrendering myself to you, Charlie. I think I’ll get a little rough.”

She was more than aware that her sexual encounters were greater than his. If Alastor had never had a blow job before, which she was very certain was true, she didn’t blame him for over embellishing it in his mind. She didn’t want to tell him that it was fine, she didn’t think it would do his ego any good to hear about her blow job history report. Charlie had to play this cool and she knew it.

“If you get too rough I’ll stop, Al,” she promised. “I promise, I won’t suffer through it. If I can’t handle it, I’ll stop.”

He looked at her seriously, searching her eyes for any lies. “You mean it?” he asked.

“I promise,” she said, her eyes on his. “If you let me do this for you, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

He liked deals. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Even if I don’t cash it in tonight?”

She held firm. “Fine, even if you don’t cash it in tonight.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

Charlie unzipped his pants. Alastor decided to move things along and he did her the favor of taking his pants and briefs down. His cock was freed from its confines and stood at attention in front of Charlie’s face. “Fuck, Alastor,” she praised. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know? You always talk about how pretty my pussy is, but I don’t think you realize that I feel the same about your cock. Fuck, look at it. And it’s all mine.”

This was new for Alastor. He was the one who said dirty words and lavished attention, not the one on the receiving end of it. His breath grew ragged and he gripped the couch cushions. His heart beat so rapidly against his ribcage that his chest hurt. All this, and Charlie didn’t even have him in her mouth!

Charlie held the base of his cock in one hand with a slightly firm grip. She leaned forward and gave it one long lick, from the bottom to the tip. Alastor shuddered into the couch. He white-knuckled the couch cushions. Charlie hummed to herself and swirled her tongue around the tip, just the same motion he swirled his tongue around her boob. His reaction was instantaneous. He bucked up into her mouth and pushed the tip of his cock into the roof of her awaiting mouth.

“Fuck,” Alastor cursed to himself. Why he was saying fuck, he didn’t have an exact answer. Charlie welcomed his hips to thrust and leaned her head further so she had a better angle. She took him into her mouth, let his cock slide up and down her throat. The sight of it was too much. Alastor didn’t think he’d have the self control to prolong it. Not with the sight of Charlie leaned over him, her blonde hair spilled around his thighs, as she worked his cock up and down her throat.

This was sinful. This was truly ruining him.

Charlie bobbed up and went back to licking his tip. Her eyes found his as she looked up at him through the mess of her bangs. The gleam in Alastor’s eyes made shivers go down Charlie’s spine; he was in a haze of lust and pleasure, completely at her mercy. He had no idea what she would do next, the only thing he knew was that it felt fucking amazing. Pride swelled up in her chest. This was what she wanted–this was the way he made her feel.

“Oh, Al,” Charlie moaned, giving his cock a kiss. He immediately twitched at that. He liked that. She smiled. “You can thrust into me, you won’t hurt me. I want you to enjoy it, just close your eyes and fuck me, okay?”

His cock twitched at that suggestion. It pulsed in her hand. “I don’t think I can take my eyes off of you,” Alastor whispered hoarsely.

Charlie shrugged and regarded him with playful eyes. “Then enjoy the show.”

She put him back in her mouth and sucked. Hard.

“Fuck!” Alastor grunted. His hips flew up and pushed into her mouth. She moaned in encouragement. Whatever wall of resistance that he built in his mind successfully crumbled into nothing. Alastor panted in anticipation as he let go of the couch cushions and put his hands on Charlie’s head, grabbing a fistful of her blonde locks. He was mindful not to grab her too tightly. She moaned once more in approval.

She won. Alastor leaned back into the couch, his eyes fluttering, and he gave into the building pleasure. All he could focus on was Charlie’s hot mouth, swirling tongue, and the sweet pressure building inside of him. His hips started to buck upwards into her mouth without him realizing it. He did exactly as she told him to do and fucked her eager mouth, completely surrendered to her ministrations.

His release came without warning. Alastor choked a scream (he would have been mortified to actually scream out loud) and instead he made a choked sound as he released into Charlie’s waiting mouth. She swallowed him as he came and massaged the base of his cock. When Charlie was sure that he was through, she popped her mouth off and smiled in victory.

Alastor had enough in him to look down at her in his blissed out haze. There she was; spit and cum dribbled from her chin, eyes wide, hair a delightful mess, and a look of pure satisfaction in her eyes. She stood up and straddled him on the couch, fitting perfectly into his lap. Charlie leaned down and gave him a kiss. He tasted her spit and his release. Was this what it was like for her when he kissed her after eating her out? There was something inexplicably hot about tasting his release from her mouth.

“Thank you,” Charlie cooed into his ear.

“You’re telling me thank you?” he asked. The surprise was obvious in his tone.

She giggled. “Well, it was my idea.”

Alastor grabbed Charlie roughly by the hips. “Let me tell you thank you myself,” he growled. Already he was revved up for more. He wasn’t done with Charlie yet.

She smiled and met the challenge in his eyes. “If you want some more…” she purred. “You’ll have to catch me!”

Just like that, Charlie was off his lap and running to the bedroom. She laughed wildly as she did so.

Alastor was dumbfounded for a moment. Did she seriously just do that? But he was never one to turn down a challenge. Just the idea of it made his cock twitch back to life.

~*~*~*~

If someone had told Alastor that he would parade through his apartment naked, with his clothes strewn across his apartment floor, he would have laughed at them. Not just a chuckle of amusement, oh no, he would have mockingly laughed and gifted whoever was asinine enough to tell him such things a Radio Demon grin. The idea of that, even as little as a month ago, would have been ridiculous to him. Preposterous. Unimaginable. After all, what on earth could possess him to act in such a way?

Yet, there he was. Parading into his master bedroom completely nude, his eyes narrowed in focus and hands twitching to get a hold of his prize.

His prize, Charlie, waited for him on the other side of the bed. She was caught off guard to see him come into the room naked. Even Charlie still wore her lingerie, although she had a feeling that wouldn’t last very long. They faced each other on the opposite side of the bed–she wore a playful grin, his expression was one of focus. He wanted one thing and one thing only, and he intended to do whatever it took to get it.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Alastor told her.

“What? You don’t wanna come get me?” Charlie grinned.

“Last chance to surrender yourself.”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her hips in a taunt. “Let’s see how good of a hunter you are.” Alastor moved so fast that Charlie shrieked in a mixture of fear and excitement. She was like a banshee when she “REEEEE’D” and saw Alastor bolt around the bed for her.

He ran around to the foot of the bed and Charlie jumped on the bed in an attempt to cross to the other side. He knew she would do just that. He was ready to turn his momentum and in a quick movement, he backtracked and went the direction he came from. Charlie tried to bounce backwards on the bed, but Alastor caught her wrist. He sprang onto the bed with her and claimed his prey by pinning her wiggling body down into the bed. They were chest to chest, Charlie laughing, and Alastor smirked as he snaked his hands up and tickled her.

“NO! AL! Hahahahaha!” Charlie laughed in hysterics.

He allowed himself a grin and chuckled at her coming undone beneath him. She fought him but it was to no avail, he had the dominating angle above her, and she was too weak with laughter to fight off his hands. “Not so tough now, are we?” Alastor asked, still grinning.

“I surrender! I’ll do whatever!” Charlie cried through her laughter.

“Anything?”

“Yes! Hahahaha! Please, my ribs hurt!”

He took mercy on her. The point was made to the Morningstar woman. Alastor stopped tickling her and before she could recover, he slid down her panties until they bunched between her ankles. Charlie unclasped her bra and threw it aside. He looked down at his prize in her fully naked glory. “Perfect,” Alastor growled.

Charlie had never felt more consumed before in her life. Alastor showered her with kisses, bites, and licks all over her body. His hands stayed busy by traveling up and down her body, squeezing, pinching, all in tandem with his mouth. Charlie laid on the bed and surrendered herself to his onslaught. Alastor worshiped her flesh and savored his skin.

“On your stomach,” he commanded with a hoarse whisper. She complied. Charlie was shaking with excitement when she rolled over and showed him her backside. Alastor bit her ass cheek, earning him a squeak from her. He massaged the globe of her ass and positioned himself behind her. He gave himself a few strokes. “Can you go on your hands and knees for me?”

She looked at him over her shoulder. This was a sensitive position, a very vulnerable one. She was presenting herself to him on a silver platter; ass up, on her hands and knees, completely at his mercy. The thrill was strong inside of her as she complied to his command.

Alastor hissed out an exhale. Just the sight of Charlie on all fours in front of him was enough to edge him. He grabbed her hips and poked the tip of his cock against her folds. Her wet slick coated him. Charlie gave a little whine. She was ready for the intrusion, whenever it would come. Her insides screamed for him.

He leaned down and kissed the back of her neck. He trailed kisses down her spine and pressed his pelvis flush against her, letting his cock nestle in between her folds. Charlie groaned in anticipation.

“Oh Charlie,” Alastor crooned. He grinned into her skin. “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.”

When he said her name the third time, he sheathed inside of her in one thrust. Charlie practically screamed at the sweet intrusion. Finally, after all this time, finally, he was inside of her. “Oohh,” she moaned. The angle was perfect with him from behind; she felt every twitch, every pulse of his cock. And he hadn’t started moving yet!

Alastor sat back up so he could look at his beautiful Charlie. She was a sight to behold beneath him, all for him. He eased out, grabbed her hips, and went back inside. He filled her completely; her walls were so tight around him. Alastor fucked her in earnest. He didn’t think, his brain was completely in survival, and he fucked her into the bed. Charlie gripped the sheets beneath her and met his hips in their desperate rhythm; the loud slaps of their hips meeting filled the room.

“Just like that, fuck,” Charlie whimpered.

“You like that?” Alastor asked with a growl. “You take my cock so well.”

She arched further into him. The sight of her ass pressed against his hips as he fucked her was enough to send him into a delirium. Alastor was lost in her wet heat. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he succumbed to the building pleasure. He couldn’t let himself finish without knowing that she did first.

He pulled out and turned Charlie over on her back so she could face him. He wanted to see her face when she came. Before she could protest, Alastor positioned her exactly the way he wanted her; on her back, legs spread, and he took one of her legs up and rested against his shoulder. With such a wide opening, he easily slid back into her greedy heat. Charlie whined at the new position. She gripped around him even tighter. Alastor fucked her with abandon; there was no longer a rhythm, no longer a pace. He rutted into her roughly, holding her leg up and against his torso, and Charlie came with a strangled cry.

The moment she came around him, he followed suit. She was so deliciously tight, he couldn’t fight it. Alastor grunted as his vision went white and he spilled into her. He collapsed on top of her, with just enough mindfulness to put his weight on one of his arms so he didn’t completely crush her into the bed.

When she turned into him, bare bodies facing each other, he almost thought he saw tears in her eyes. “Charlie?” Alastor asked. Did he hurt her? Was she okay? The panicked dread crashed over him like a tidal wave.

She smiled and kissed him gently on the lips. “I always say ‘I love you’ first,” she confessed. His chest tightened at her words. His heart beat so loudly that it reverberated in his ears. “And it’s silly and stupid,” Charlie continued. “Because the people I say ‘I love you’ to, don’t love me back, you know? Who says ‘I love you’ without an ‘I love you’ back? I always feel like such an idiot afterwards, but I always do it. No matter how many times Angel and Vaggie tell me not to, I’m always the idiot in love.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks freely. Alastor didn’t want to see her upset. It made him feel dizzy, it made him feel his weakest. “Charlie, it’s okay,” he whispered.

She smiled but the tears still ran down her cheeks. “I dunno, maybe I’m just so terrified of being alone. But I’ve already been alone for a long time now. I feel like if I say it, I’ll doom our relationship. Just like I’ve doomed the ones before it. And I don’t want us to end, Al, I really don’t. But not being able to say how I feel makes me go crazy.”

Alastor didn’t know what to say. Charlie was having a crisis right before his eyes, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be upset. He wasn’t sure the exact reason why she cried, but he could see the pain in her eyes. The loneliness. She laid herself bare to him, something that he wasn’t sure he could do back in the same manner. This woman in his arms was so close to saying three little words that he hadn’t heard spoken to him since his mother’s passing.

Surely she didn’t mean it. Surely, in all seven rings of hell below, this was just the afterglow talking.

You know better than that, Alastor. Look at her.

Alastor felt like he was falling. A lump formed in his throat. The implication of Charlie’s words were too much for him. They crushed him. Yet, as much as he wanted to deny it, the proof couldn’t be refuted. Charlie meant every word she said to him. “Don’t say it,” he whispered hoarsely.

She looked at him with big, teary eyes. She was ready to deflate like a balloon from his words. She should have known better than to lay all of this on him, really Charlie, it was stupid to think that he would–

“Because I’ll say it first. I love you, Charlie.”

She stared at him in complete shock. He should have guessed that she would cry even harder. These seemed like happy tears, judging by the smile on her face. “You don’t have to s-say it i-if you don’t mean it!”

“I mean it.”

“Oh, Al!” Charlie cried. She surged forward and kissed his chin, his jaw, and his cheek. Her wet tears rubbed onto his skin but he didn’t mind one bit. “I lo–”

He kissed her before she could finish her sentence. Truthfully, he couldn’t bear to hear it. It was one thing to admit to her his feelings, but it was another to hear the sentiment being directed towards him. Alastor couldn’t do it, he couldn’t handle the spotlight.

Don’t say it, you don’t mean it, you have no idea.

Before Charlie could try and break their kiss, Alastor rolled over and was inside of her once more. She mewled against his mouth at the sweet intrusion. He was already hard again inside of her. He began to move, his strokes long and languid this time.

Anything to distract her from saying those three little words that he couldn’t bear to hear.

Notes:

Omfg there's so much to unpack and yet not a lot to unpack at the same time??? I cannot emphasize to y'all how long I've been waiting to write the big date. And yet... this is only half of it. I had a whole thing planned, and then I decided to write the smut scene first to get it out of the way and it ended up being 4kish words, and I'm like holy crap, and then when I wrote the rest the chapter clocked in at almost 10k words. So I decided to split the "date" into two parts. I looked over my story and we haven't had any smut since chapter 9, and I was like "oh no, we fixing this" so that's how that happened lol.

I really went back and forth on how to end the chapter. I feel like Charlie is someone who falls hard and fast (and we love that about her, we really do lol) and so after their sex and the date, she's just overcome with emotions and wants to say I love you, but knows that all the other times she's said it, it's been a mistake. I also feel like she's one of those characters who hates not being able to say what she's feeling and expressing herself, so for her to hesitate in saying I love you to Alastor, it makes her emotional. I almost didn't end this chapter with him saying I love you, I was on the fence if it was out of character for him. I decided to keep it because I felt like he'd say it to her to make her feel better, and I feel like his real problem isn't the one saying it, but the one being told it. Hence why he didn't let Charlie be the one to say it back to him.

Alastor, work on your control issues, please LOL

Thank you for reading this very long chapter, thank you for all the kudos, and comments, and just THANK YOU! I appreciate it so very much! It's very meaningful as the author to finally reach the point in the story I've been looking forward to, hahahahaha it only took

ONE-HUNDRED THOUSAND WORDS TO GET THERE (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

Thank you to ReallyBoredWolf who first used the table flip emoji lol. I tried to post the chapter earlier than my usual time so you'd have more time to read before bed loooool

Chapter 14

Summary:

Part two of the BIG DATE.

Vaggie wondered why Husk chose the parking lot to TJ Maxx to meet up. It was only ten minutes from Charlie’s apartment, but there were plenty of better places, surely. The answer became obvious when Husk pulled up in his truck and there were several shopping bags in the passenger’s seat before he moved them to the back seat. Vaggie couldn’t help the amused grin when she got out of her Altima and hopped into Husk’s truck. “Have fun shopping?” she asked.

Husk didn’t seem bothered one bit. “Look, when there are good deals, it doesn’t matter where it comes from,” he said. “You think I’m gonna spend more money at Men’s Warehouse because it’s manlier sounding? Tj Maxx is perfectly reasonable and respectable.”

Vaggie was impressed that he stood his ground. “You got me there. What did you buy?”

“That’s none of your business, missy.” Husk pulled out his phone and went to his number tracker app. “You know, I only agreed to this because I want to make sure you don’t fuck this up for them.”

Vaggie scoffed. “Me? Me? I don’t fuck anything up! I just want to make sure that Alastor takes Charlie to a respectable place and that it’s safe!”

“Sure you are,” Husk said in fake agreement. “You should just let Charlie have her date with Boss-man and let it go. See a movie. Hell, go on your own date. There are plenty of other women out there.”

Vaggie hit Husk in the arm. “Okay, smartass! Just pull up the app. We won’t stay long, we’re just making sure the area is safe and everything is generally safe.”

“Yeah. And what if it’s not? You planning on intervening and dragging Charlie home and sending her to her room?” Husk was a bit too practiced at sarcasm mixed with grumpiness. Vaggie blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. He wasn’t blind to her indignation. “I’m just saying,” Husk said. “You should do something for yourself. Go on your own date.”

“My life is very work oriented,” Vaggie argued. “And what about you? You used to drink all day and all night and now you’re involved in our weirdo group dynamics, huh? Why don’t you try to go out with new people? Why waste your time with us?”

Husk looked up from his phone. He didn’t have an answer for that. Before he could form a rebuttal, he spotted trouble in the rearview mirror of his truck. “Ah jeez, Vaggie. Did you really have to make this a party?” he groaned.

“What are you talking about?”

“Behind us.”

Vaggie turned around and saw Niffty’s little Volkswagen Beetle that was not-so-subtly pulled up behind them. “Oh my fucking god,” Vaggie cursed. “I didn’t invite them! Did you talk to Angel?”

Husk laughed. “No, he’s not in the mood to talk to me.”

Vaggie got out of the truck and slammed the door. Angel got out of the beetle and slammed the passenger door as well. The two glared each other down. “What the fuck!” Vaggie demanded.

“My sentiments exactly!” Angel yelled back. Husk and Niffty got out of the vehicles. Everyone stared at each other from across the parking lot like it was a scene out of an old western movie. “I can’t believe you were going to go spy on the lovebirds and not even give me an invite! Let alone a heads up!” Angel exclaimed. “And you’re letting him take you?!”

Husk crossed his arms. “I helped them find your drunken ass at Consent, I’ve got a good track record so far.”

“Just go home Angel,” Vaggie said. “This will be a quick check in on Charlie, nothing major. I can’t have all of us going and drawing attention to us.”

Angel shook his head. “No fucking way. I want in. Especially if you’re going with grandpa over there!”

Husk didn’t appreciate the old man comment. “Why don’t you just admit you’re mad at me?” he asked with a slight snarl.

Angel huffed and turned up his chin. “Mad? At you? Puh-lease, like I’d get mad over silly things you say.”

“I want to go, too!” Niffty exclaimed, joining the conversation. “We don’t mind, really!”

“We?” Vaggie asked.

Pentious rolled down the window and stuck his head out of the car. “Evening, guyssss,” he greeted.

“Oh sure, we’re just all gonna hop in my truck like it’s a fucking clown car, go down to wherever Charlie and Alastor are, watch them like a bunch of weirdos, and then what’s next? We’ll get ice cream? Huh?” Husk asked irritably.

Niffty and Pentious exchanged looks. “That sounds good,” they both agreed.

“Just face it, you can’t go after her without us following you,” Angel said. “So y’all better make room, we’re doing a sting operation, bitches.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes and groaned. “Fuck, fine,” she said. “But y’all better listen to me! This is my operation, I’m in charge!”

“Sssscore!” Pentious cheered. He got out of the car and Niffty locked her beetle. “Dibs on shotgun,” Pentious said.

“Absolutely not,” Vaggie snapped. “The three of you intruders get the back seat.”

“Oh sure, put the two tall guys in the backseat with no leg room,” Angel muttered.

“Have you considered getting shorter?” Vaggie asked with a haughty smirk. She was annoyed but she couldn’t let their derailment distract her from the mission.

Everyone loaded up into Husk’s truck like it was a clown car, much to Husk’s irritation. Husk would never admit this, but he was looking forward to a car ride alone with Vaggie. She seemed like a smart young lady with a good head on her shoulders, other than her inability to let people live their lives. Truthfully, Husk found most of the group to be interesting company. Angel was just as smart as Vaggie, but where she was book smart, he seemed to have the street smarts. Niffty was smart in a diabolical way that Husk wasn’t sure he wanted to know the extent of. And Pentious? Husk wasn’t sure how smart he was, but he had to give it to the awkward young man, he was at least resilient.

Once everyone squeezed into the truck, Pentious gasped in excitement. “Are these pajama sets? For $10.99? Usually these don’t get marked down until Black Friday!” Pentious exclaimed.

“Hey, stay outta the merchandise!” Husk snapped. He started the truck. “You three better sit quietly and don’t move around! You’re a bunch of intruders, all of you.” He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Vaggie held the phone as the navigator. The destination looked to be twenty minutes away.

In the backseat, Angel, Niffty, and Pentious managed to be quiet for exactly forty-eight seconds. “God, can we at least get some music?” Angel asked with a dramatic sigh.

“Kelly Clarkson might get us in the mood,” Pentious suggested.

“We’re still getting ice cream after this, right?” Niffty asked.

Husk sighed. Maybe he was wrong and everyone was an idiot, including him for thinking otherwise. Maybe Vaggie had a point, he needed to find a new group of people to spend time with. He’d never admit this, and maybe deep down, he didn’t have the words to articulate it just yet–to him, this group in the car of him were losers.

Just like him.
~*~*~*~

Lucifer kept looking at his phone. He tapped his fingers on the bar counter and changed up the tempo of his taps every minute or so. Tap-tap, pause, tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap, pause, tap, tap-tap-tap, pause. There were downsides to living in a big, lavish mansion outside the city limits. There was a lot of room to fill and whatever didn’t get filled was left empty.

His therapist told him multiple times to move into a new home to create new memories and stop reminding himself of the past. Lucifer knew she was right, yet there he was, in the same kitchen that he and Lilith used to argue in. It was the house that Lilith said her worst words to him, the house that he spent late nights crying in, the house with the same ceilings that he would stare at and wonder if any of it even fucking mattered anymore.

Does it fucking matter anymore?

Yet, this was the same house that they brought their newborn baby girl home in, wrapped in a soft blue blanket that was still in his closet. This was the same house that Charlie said her first words in, learned how to crawl, walk, then run in, hell, she even roller skated down the hallways (when her mother wasn’t home). This was the house where Charlie would hug her dad, her tiny hands around his waist, and ask him to read to her before bed. In fact, this very kitchen was where Charlie would sit and do her homework and Lucifer would ask her if she wanted a quick treat before dinner, as long as:

“Don’t tell mom,” Lucifer said into the empty room.

He sighed. It was relatively early on a Friday evening. He could tell already that he shouldn’t be alone. This was not a good time for the sadness to take over. Hell, when was it ever a good time? This was especially not a good time, however, because he had to refocus on his campaign after his earlier debate with Adam.

Lucifer thought back to earlier when he and Adam were waiting to get called onto stage for the live debate. It was just him and the Evans man behind the stage, not even Lute was present.

“Did they give you a platform to stand on your podium?” Adam asked.

“Low hanging fruit, Evans,” Lucifer retorted. “I’m perfectly aware of my height. And yes, they did.”

Adam snorted. “Where’s your daughter? I didn’t see her in the audience to cheer her daddy on.”

“She’s got her own business, she’s cheering me on from wherever she is.”

“Ah, her own business, huh? Business with her new fuck-buddy?”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Adam laughed in glee. He found the chip in his armor. That was what Adam Evans was skilled at–finding weakness. “You didn’t hear? Ooh, she must be hiding it from daddy. She’s working with the Radio Demon now.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I know about that. They’re business partners, they’re not–”

“They’re fucking,” Adam interrupted. “I saw ol Alastor the other day, you probably saw our little fist fight. Know why we got into it? Because I mentioned Charlie’s name to him, and he turned into Mr. Noble who had to defend his lady’s honor and started a fight with me over it. He fought me because of Charlie. I don’t think they’re just business partners for all that trouble.”

Lucifer swallowed a lump in his throat. His ears burned. He did find Alastor at Charlie’s apartment earlier in the week. No, it couldn’t be true. Charlie couldn’t have fallen for that asshole’s act, she was smarter than that!

Game, set, match. Adam laughed when he saw Lucifer’s expression. “Think she calls him ‘daddy’ when he pounds into her?” he asked.

Lucifer bared his teeth. “Shut the fuck up you piece of shit. My daughter is not fucking around with Alastor. Say one more word to me about my daughter and I’ll show you what a real fight looks like. What you and Alastor had was a cute little cat fight. I’ll knock you the fuck out.”

“We’re ready for y’all!” the producer exclaimed, opening the curtain to the stage. “Y’all ready?”

“Ready,” Adam answered smugly.

Lucifer felt like pummeling the shit out of him. Which was exactly what he wanted. Get back in the game, he reminded himself. He’ll get down to the bottom of this later.

~*~*~*~

“Well, I gotta say, I didn’t expect a guy like Alastor to take her to a fucking swamp,” Angel remarked.

They followed Charlie’s phone thirty minutes outside of the city, where there was nothing but two-lane highways and marsh and forest on both sides. They reached a small town that had two stop lights, a gas station, a hole-in-the-wall diner, a few stores, and several churches. This place was the definition of a small town, certainly a far cry from the hustle and bustle of New Orleans.

Vaggie checked Husk’s phone. They still had four miles until they reached her location. “What the fuck,” Vaggie muttered.

“Oh come on, this isn’t such a big deal,” Husk commented. “Y’all act like Alastor took her to a rundown shed in the middle of nowhere to murder her.”

“Don’t say that,” Vaggie snapped.

“Chill, I’m being sarcastic.” Husk continued down the highway lane, his truck chugging along at 45mph. “I’ve known Alastor for quite some time, whether that’s a bad thing or not. If I thought he was endangering Charlie, do you really think I’d have stayed quiet about it?”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “What do you think he’s doing?”

Husk shrugged. “That’s a good question. I’ve never known Alastor to be the romantic type. He’s a very private person, standoffish. Which is fine by me, I’m not trying to be his best friend or shit like that. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him act like this.”

“The Charlie Effect,” Angel said in a sing-song tune in the backseat, parroting what he had told Vaggie earlier. “You’ll see, we’ll show up and see they’re having fun, then we’ll get the hell outta there and go back to our lives.”

The car fell silent again. Husk turned into a dirt driveway and they saw the old but grandeur white building.

“Jazzy’s Club,” both Husk and Vaggie read aloud.

Niffty practically vibrated in the back seat. “No way no way no way no way this is a jazz club!” she shrieked. She turned to Pentious and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down so he was eye to eye with her. “You’ve got to swing me.”

“Excussssse me?” Pentious asked.

“Like we’re a 1920’s couple! You’ve gotta throw me around and swing me!”

Pentious was red in the face. He scurried out of the truck along with everyone else. The five gathered in the parking lot. “Right,” Vaggie said, taking command. “Here’s the deal, guys. Ten minutes, all we’re gonna do is survey the scene. We cannot, I repeat, cannot be spotted. This is a spy mission. We have to stay close to the walls, we cannot bring attention to ourselves. Niffty, that means no dancing. Sorry. Pentious can swing you around and give you piggy-back rides or whatever weird shit you want from him another time.”

“Are you serioussss,” Pentious said, followed by Niffty’s upbeat, “Okay!”

“I think we should at least be able to have a drink,” Angel said.

“Seconded,” Husk agreed.

“Not with you,” Angel said, looking at him with a scowl on his face.

Husk didn’t seem fazed by it. “Fine by me, I don’t have to sit next to the most popular boy in school.”

Vaggie clapped her hands together. “Let’s survey the room. Maybe a drink. Definitely no dancing. And most importantly, we have to stick together.”

“Which means if Alastor happens to spot one of us, he’ll actually spot all of us,” Husk muttered. He cracked his neck left and right, which got stiff during the drive. “Okay captain, lead the way.”

Vaggie did just that.

~*~*~*~

The hostess who greeted the lovebirds, the one Alastor called Shelly, was the hostess who greeted the five undercover spies. “Welcome to Jazzy’s!” she greeted. “Are we wanting a table for five?”

As she spoke, Angel tried poking his head around her to see inside of the main dining area. It looked like it was one big room with a dance floor in the middle that was centered with the live band, and dining tables placed around the room. There was a bar tucked in the far left corner. Question was, if they sat at the bar would they be in Alastor or Charlie’s line of sight?

“Uh…” Vaggie answered awkwardly, trying to buy time for Angel to confirm that he spotted them.

“They’re dancing!” Angel exclaimed.

Shelly looked mildly concerned.

“Sorry,” Vaggie smiled. “Yes, uh, we’d like to just sit at the bar if that’s okay?”

“Of course. Would you like menus?”

Husk took over. “No thanks, we’ll seat ourselves. Nice place.” He winked and took the lead for the group to follow. Vaggie huffed–she had it under control, jeez–but dutifully followed him. Once they entered the main dining hall, they were careful to stick to the walls and as far away from the dance floor as possible. Vaggie looked over and saw Charlie and Alastor hand in hand, him showing her how to shuffle step.

“C’mon, you gotta admit they’re cute,” Angel said, leaning down close to Vaggie’s ear.

“I have no problem admitting they’re cute together,” Vaggie growled. “I told you, this is just to make sure that everything is safe.”

“They look pretty safe to me.”

Vaggie whipped her head around and glared at Angel. “Why are you here, anyway? Me and Husk could have handled this but you insisted on coming along, and you brought Niffty and Pentious, too? You’re just as guilty as I am, whether or not it was my idea!”

“Newsflash, it was your idea. And yeah, fine, I’m guilty too. It’ll be over my dead body that you have a hangout with Husk and I’m not there, too.”

Thankfully, Husk was leading the troop and hadn’t heard their whispering. Vaggie narrowed her eyes. “What happened between you and Husk, huh? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you being extra snippy to him.”

Angel narrowed his eyes back at her. “I took a page of how to be snippy right out of your book, sister.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re so–oof!”

Before Vaggie finished her thought, she smacked into the bar stool. She was so distracted by looking at Angel that she didn’t see that they had reached the bar. Thankfully, the live band’s music was loud enough that her stumble didn’t cause any alarm.

Angel smirked. “Stool in front of you.”

Vaggie sneered. “Thanks.”

“Okay you two, hush,” Husk muttered. He sat at the bar, which happened to have their backs facing the dance floor. At least if Alastor or Charlie looked at the bar, they wouldn’t see their faces. “Give me a whiskey sour,” Husk told the bartender.

Angel indignantly sat beside Husk. “Make that two,” he told the bartender. “You planning on driving us home tipsy?”

Husk shook his head. “Please. I’d have to put four of those away for it to affect me.”

“Sounds like your liver loves you.”

“You sound like my doctor.” Angel huffed and spun the bar stool around to face the dance floor. He kept a visual on the love birds. “Careful,” Husk warned.

“The point is to watch them, ain’t it?”

“Not all five of us have to watch them to get intel.”

Angel spun the seat back to face the bar. “Fine. Whatever.”

Husk took a long drink of his whiskey sour. “So I’ve got a question. Care to entertain me?”

“Whatever. Ask.”

“If you’re so mad at me for getting in your business, why did you decide to come along with us?”

Little did Husk know that Vaggie just asked him that question. “Because I felt like it,” Angel answered. He downed his entire whiskey sour in one gulp. “And since I’m not driving, I can get shit-faced. Another one, bartender!”

Husk seemed bothered by this. “Fine, you wanna play games instead of talk? Go right ahead. I’m not the one who’s forcing you to do shit you don’t wanna do, I doubt you’re as spiteful this way towards Valentino.”

The moment Angel slammed his glass on the bar countertop was the exact same moment that the jazz band asked Alastor if he’d like an upbeat song. The glass hit the counter when the drumbeat kicked up, and luckily nothing was heard. Charlie and Alastor began to really move across the dance floor.

“What the fuck do you know about Valentino?!” Angel asked, his voice raised.

“I know he’s a scumbag who you’re afraid to leave, even though you know better,” Husk replied coolly.

Angel was going to throw his drink on Husk but realized his glass was empty. He took Vaggie’s glass and got ready to throw it, but he reared his arm back too aggressively. He ended up throwing the drink past Vaggie and onto Niffty.

“Angel!” Vaggie cried. “Cool it!”

“I’m soaked!” Niffty exclaimed. There was vodka all over her face and top.

“Sorry Niff,” Angel said. “But believe me, Husk deserved it.”

“Is it so wrong that I care about whether or not you’re enslaved to an asshole pimp?” Husk asked, raising his voice. “Huh? What’s so wrong with someone like me giving a shit?”

“You don’t really give a shit!” Angel yelled. “You’re just judging me!”

As the two went at it, Vaggie watched Alastor and Charlie go wild on the dance floor. They didn’t notice the fighting, they seemed lost in their own world. Despite the situation, hell, despite everything, Vaggie couldn’t help but smile a little. Charlie looked like she was having the time of her life.

“We can go,” Vaggie said. “Charlie is in good hands.”

Pentious started crying in his seat at the bar. “Look how beautiful they are! They’re an absolute dream come true!”

Angel and Husk stopped arguing to watch the couple. Alastor must have been a good dance teacher, because Charlie picked right up on the moves and matched his kicks and steps for the beat. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them move in sync. Charlie couldn’t stop giggling and Alastor seemed to wear a genuine smile of delight.

Then, they saw it. A flash of photography. It came from behind the couple, towards the front entrance. Vaggie and Husk exchanged glances–something was wrong. Vaggie got up from her bar stool and dared to walk closer to the dance floor to chance a look. She knew it was risky, at any point Charlie could see her. She scanned the crowd carefully.

There. A man dressed all in black with a digital camera. The flash was when he turned the camera on and forgot to turn the flash off. He seemed to have caught his mistake, but it was too late, Vaggie was alerted.

“Paparazzi?” Vaggie asked.

“Worse,” Angel said. “This is a hired photographer. Looks like we’re not the only ones who decided to follow them.”

“But why?”

Vaggie, Angel, and Husk figured it out at once. “Adam Evans,” they said in unison.

The photographer noticed them staring at him from across the room. He put his camera away and made a run for the door. As he did so, the music stopped playing. The room erupted in applause for the band. Charlie and Alastor faced the band to join in and clap.

Husk and Vaggie shared a look. “GET HIM!” Vaggie cried.

Husk didn’t need to be told twice. This wouldn’t be like the other time when he got a leg cramp, oh no, he made sure to do his daily stretches at 4pm. Husk bolted for the doors, without a care if either of the lovebirds saw him. As it turned out, Alastor did look around the room after he heard Vaggie shout. He scanned the room with narrowed eyes, looking for anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

Vaggie held her breath. She hid behind Angel, who flipped up the collar of his jacket and stood still as a statue. They watched as Alastor decided there was nothing to worry about and sat at the table with Charlie.

~*~*~*~

While this happened, Niffty decided that she needed to change clothes. The smell of vodka on her shirt was way too strong for her. If this had been any other club, she would have taken her shirt off and walked around in her bra. But this place seemed a little too fancy for all of that. Niffty desperately walked through the back of the building, thinking it was a backway to the parking lot without having to walk past the dance floor.

“Where are you going?” Pentious asked.

“What the? Why did you follow me?” Niffty asked back, turning to face him.

He stared at her. He never stood to his full height, he always hunched forward. Especially so when he talked to Niffty, who was a good foot shorter than him. “Ehm, well, there seems to be commotion going on out there.”

“I just need to get out of this shirt, the alcohol burns my nose,” Niffty said.

“I sssseeeee.” Pentious looked around them. They happened to be alone in the back hallway that was meant for employees only, but that wouldn’t last long. “Huh, I wonder what the cosssstume room is for,” Pentious said.

Niffty spun around. Low and behold, there was a door behind them with a sign that said “costume and changing room” on the front. “Cha-ching!” Niffty cheered. They heard approaching footsteps. “C’mon, follow me!”

The door was unlocked. Niffty and Pentious dashed inside just in time before two servers walked past the hallway. They watched their footsteps go past the closed door. Niffty sighed. “Right, okay, let’s look for a shirt.”

The costume room looked like a prop room from a movie studio. There were hangers of clothes, arrays of wigs, and plenty of shoes. “They must have live shows in addition to the jazz music,” Pentious said. “Ooh, I wonder if they will perform Phantom of the Opera!”

“Phantom of the who now?” Niffty asked. She found a white button up shirt and quickly discarded her own top. Pentious turned bright red when he saw Niffty take her top off without warning and he turned around so he didn’t face her. “It’s no biggie,” Niffty said, noticing his discomfort. “Haven’t you seen Cherri naked?”

Pentious seemed to shrink even further into himself when she mentioned Cherri’s name. “Th-th-this isn’t about me!”

Niffty quickly changed into the button up. She decided that she needed a better disguise than just a new shirt. She spotted a curly blonde wig that was cheaply made. Perfect! Niffty donned the wig. “What do you think? I look good blonde, huh?” she grinned.

He dared to look over his shoulder at her. “Why a wig?”

“Why not a wig?”

“You’re going to return the shirt and wig after we’re out of here, right?”

Niffty rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fine. I thought you were some kind of thug, huh? The kind of guy who throws bricks at buildings.”

He wanted nothing more than to forget the stupid brick incident. “I only did it because Striker told me to after–”

Knock knock!

The door opened and an angry employee was on the other side. “Susan!” she exclaimed. “I thought you couldn’t come in tonight! We’re busier than expected, I need you to pick up some of Jay’s tables. I knew you’d be hiding in here!”

The angry waitress opened the door wide enough to see Niffty only. Pentious was behind the door enough that she didn’t see him. Whether it was good luck or bad luck that when Niffty put on a blonde wig she looked like an employee named Susan was up to debate. But the waitress snatched her hand and dragged her out into the dining room. By the time Niffty entered the main room once again, the thunderous applause broke out for the band, Husk bolted after the mystery photographer, and Alastor and Charlie just sat down at their table.

“Go check on Jay’s sections, he’s gotta cover the bar!” the hostess snapped.

Niffty awkwardly walked towards Alastor and Charlie. She was glad for the wig. This wasn’t what she planned on doing, but she didn’t want to cause a scene otherwise. With the waitress’s eyes on her, Niffty walked up to Alastor and Charlie’s table. She disguised her voice in a high-pitched tone. “How is everything this evening?”

Vaggie better appreciate this as part of the recon mission.

Charlie looked up at her with a smile. She seemed unsure when she saw Niffty. It wouldn’t be long before she figured out it was her. “Uhm, good,” Charlie answered. She stared at Niffty in her disguise, the cogs turning in her mind.

“Good, yes, good. So you’re feeling good, nothing out of the ordinary?” Niffty pressed. She could report this back to Vaggie.

“No?” Charlie asked, confused.

“If you would please let us enjoy our meal,” Alastor growled from his seat. Niffty chanced a glance at him. He didn’t look amused at all. Charlie may figure her out, but Alastor would definitely figure her out.

She knew she needed to get out of there. “Yes, of course. As long as everyone keeps it respectful and cash money.” Niffty nodded, her blonde curls smacking her face because the wig was too loose, and walked away.

She made a move for the front entrance. Once she was out of the main dining room and in the front room where guests waited to be seated, she released a heavy sigh.

“Where are you going?” the waitress asked angrily.

“I quit!” Niffty proclaimed. “I’m better than this! I’m gonna make it in the big city, I’m gonna be an actress! I’m gonna star in Phantom of the Soap Opera!”

Without another moment, Niffty sprinted out the door. She threw her wig on the bench that was by the front door and kept running until she made it to the truck. “That was thrilling,” Niffty said to herself, slightly out of breath.

It didn’t take long for Vaggie, Angel, and Pentious to catch up with her at the truck. “What the fuck was all that?” Angel asked her.

“That was show business, baby,” Niffty answered with complete confidence.

~*~*~*~

Charlie woke up when it was still dark. She was tangled up in Alastor; their legs intertwined between a pillow, him turned towards her, his arm folded over her securely. She was surprised that she wasn’t too hot from the shared body heat. Instead, she was just right.

There was enough light from the bedroom window that Charlie could study Alastor’s face while he slept. He took his glasses off and his brunette bangs were even messier in his sleep, but all the more adorable. Most people in the movies looked peaceful in their sleep. Alastor looked bothered; his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth moved into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie whispered sweetly. She knew he wouldn’t hear her. She wanted to reach up and kiss the tip of his nose but decided against it.

Instead, she stared at her tall, dark, and handsome enigma. Charlie thought about what was discussed between them earlier. From the sound of it, Alastor grew up poor. He and his mother lived in a shabby house with a leaky roof and Alastor let his mom have the bedroom and slept on the couch in the living room for privacy. He didn’t sound bitter as he told her these things, rather, he was informing her of his past. Charlie could picture a much younger Alastor; no father in the picture, the weight of being the man of the house on his shoulder. A fragile mother, how did she die? Did he have to care for her before her passing? At some point he had his grandmother present in his life, but when did she pass?

And perhaps the most curious question Charlie had was when she thought back to the night Alastor shared one little tidbit about his father:

”My father was a… very bad man.”

Charlie’s heart fluttered in her chest as she stared at her lover. What did his father do to him? What did his father do to their family?

Alastor had to work hard in his life. He was never given opportunities that she was, she knew that. She wasn’t blind to it. Perhaps that was why Alastor was so bitter and cynical towards her project and whether or not people could really change. What had he seen that made him think people were a lost cause?

What caused you to lose faith in people?

Charlie turned further into him so they were chest to chest and she hugged him tighter to her. She wanted all of him; she wanted as much of his skin on hers. Alastor stirred in his slumber and she heard him “Hmmm?” before he readjusted and tightened his hold on her.

“Alastor?” Charlie whispered.

He slurred his response from his sleep. “Darling.”

She couldn’t help but smile into the warmth of his skin. Hopefully he could go right back to sleep. However, his grip tightened as he lifted her up and on top of him so her body pinned his into the bed. Charlie shrieked at his precise, sudden movements.

He silenced her with a kiss. It was more animated than it had any right to be given that he was asleep thirty seconds ago. But with each nip of the lips, Alastor became more awake, and the proof was the hardness between his legs that pressed into Charlie’s slit. She sighed into his mouth at the feeling of his cock tip sliding up and down her folds teasingly. Maybe it was a good idea after all that she decided to sleep naked next to him. He decided to put his sleep pants on, but he clearly had time to pull them down before he hoisted her on top of him.

“I’ve read about midnight quickies in books,” Alastor said, his voice gravelly. “How the two characters get lost in the throes of passion. It always seemed bothersome to me to be woken up from sleep just to have sex.”

“I wanted you to go back to sleep, mister,” Charlie whispered back. To her, Alastor looked quite pleased with himself beneath her on the pillow. His face was a far cry from his expression when he was asleep, that was for sure.

“What I mean is, I get it now,” Alastor continued. “Of course back when I read those books, I thought sex wasn’t for me. How wrong I was indeed. Maybe if the woman in the books were as captivating and fuckable as you, I would have seen the light sooner.”

Charlie was glad that the only light in the room was from the bedroom window. He couldn’t see her blush furiously. Alastor was dirty talking to her, and it made something short-circuit in her brain whenever he did it. She wanted more. “Yeah?” Charlie asked, feigning innocence. “What about me is so fuckable?”

Alastor grinned that wolfish grin. He worked his cock up and down her slit, taking in the wetness with his tip and using it to work her faster. She bit her lip, wishing he’d just put it in but she knew better. He had to perform first.

“Where to begin,” the man mused. “Everything about you is fuckable, but that’s not going to do it, is it?” Charlie could only moan in response. He worked his cock up to her clit and rubbed it intentionally. “If I hadn’t been so stupid, I would have fucked you in my office on the first day I met you,” Alastor told her. He laughed. He sounded manic, drunk off the sensation of his cock in her entrance but not quite through the door.

“What makes you think I would have let you?” she countered.

“Oh, you would have let me. I’d have sent Rosie out of the room, locked the door behind me, and you would have been all mine.” He was so pompous sometimes, but in this instance, he wasn’t wrong.

“How would you have done it?” Charlie whispered.

“Roughly,” he growled. “I would have bent you over the desk and fucked you senseless. Your ass would have bruises the shape of my hands the next day. If this is strictly my fantasy, I would have spanked you a few times. Fuck, I would have taken great pleasure in watching that white skin turn red from my hand. But I would have rewarded you, too. From taking my cock and my hand so well.”

No one had ever talked to Charlie like that before. None of her previous lovers ever made her feel so wanted, so desired. The wild look in Alastor’s eyes matched the dirty, sinful words he spoke. She felt lightheaded from it all; she needed him.

“Please, Al,” Charlie moaned.

He lifted her hips up and off his cock. She groaned in protest. Alastor slid flat on his pillow and motioned for Charlie to move up towards the headboard. “Fuck my face,” he commanded with a low growl.

She nearly fell off the bed from his demand. “I-ah-wha-what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I want you to ride my face.”

Fuck, had anyone ever spoken so directly to her before? Alastor’s order made chills go down her spine. Charlie was shaking from pent up tension as she moved her knees to either side of his face. Her entire body trembled as she hovered above Alastor’s waiting face. She had never felt more exposed than to have her legs spread right above his head–yet she never felt more thrilled, either.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Alastor praised from below. Her excitement glistened in the dark. “Fuck, Charlotte, I’m starving. Let me devour you.”

Charlie could have come from those words alone. She lowered herself down and Alastor’s greedy tongue wasted no time to plunge between her folds. Charlie squealed at his tongue’s invasion and she leaned forward into the headboard for support. She held on for dear life to the headboard. There was no way in hell that she’d be able to hold herself up on her own. Alastor’s tongue was eager and fervent in its movement; it wiggled between her wet walls, rolling and curling, much more agile than his cock. This was only his second time tasting her. He meant it when he said he was starving for her.

Alastor’s hands moved up to anchor himself on her bare ass cheeks. He gripped her globes and pulled them apart to try and grab as much of them as possible. He slurped her loudly without a single care in the world.

Charlie worried that she was suffocating him. This was the first time she had ever done oral where she was on top, it was always when she was on her back and the lover controlled how deep or how hard it could go. If Charlie wanted to, she could crush herself more into Alastor. She trembled as she held herself up. She couldn’t do it.

“Don’t be afraid,” Alastor rasped against her inner thigh. “Your pleasure is right here, you just need to come get it.”

She was overwhelmed and thrilled all at once. She didn’t want this to be only for her. Charlie reached down with one hand and took one of his hands that was on her ass. He stared up at her in question until she lifted his hand off her ass and–

Smack!

Charlie guided Alastor’s hand down to swat her ass. He caught onto her implication and grinned darkly. “Are you sure?”

“If you’re sure about me suffocating you,” Charlie bit out. She needed her release. Badly.

“Oh, I would love nothing more,” Alastor hummed, quite pleased with himself. He gave her cheek another smack, this one slightly harder than the first one. “C’mon, come take a ride. Fuck my face.”

He won.

Charlie lowered down on his grinning face once more. He rewarded her with his long, muscled tongue. Charlie went lower than the first time, applying more pressure. She felt her outer lips stretch out to accommodate his mouth. Alastor drank her, greedily plunging his tongue into as much of her heat as he could. As he did so, he alternated hands and spanked her soft, bare ass. It was a shame that he couldn’t see the cheeks turn pink, but he felt the warmth emanate from them. With every smack of his hand, his tongue fucked her especially hard. She ground into him, effectively finding the perfect spot for his tongue to hit. Her entire body broke out in chills and she panted heavily as she grabbed the headboard for dear life. The idea that she rode him, that she was chasing her pleasure on his tongue, that it was her who set the tempo and pace of the thrusts–it was all too much for Charlie to handle.

When she was almost at the edge, she dared to look down through her mess of bangs. Alastor met her eyes from below; he looked at her with a wild, feral gleam in his eyes. That did Charlie in–she came with a scream, a cathartic shriek of release, and he upped his tempo and licked her through it.

Alastor grabbed Charlie’s hips and guided her backwards as he moved to sit up and get more leverage. She slid onto his hardened cock with ease from her release to guide him inside of her. She moaned when he filled her up. Going from his tongue to his cock was incredibly stimulating, especially when she took his entire length in one smooth stroke.

Charlie saw Alastor’s face now that he sat up; he was absolutely covered in her release, from the tip of his nose to his chin. She watched his lust-filled gaze as he pumped her. It was enough to send her over the edge a second time, and she came again on his cock, mewling her approval. Alastor stood no chance when her walls clenched him so tightly, and he saw white as he came after her.

Exhaustion pulsated through her and she fell forward onto him, barely holding herself up on his chest. His breaths heaved her up and down, their bodies both slick with a thin sheen of sweat. He was still inside of her.

“Should we go back to sleep or shower?” Charlie whispered.

He idly stroked down her bare back, following each curve of her spine. “We could attempt to sleep and then shower in a few hours,” he offered. “What time are we supposed to meet your crew of workers at the rehab center?”

Oh shit, she forgot about that. “I’ll push it to ten,” she grumbled. “I think I’ll go back to sleep and worry about my problems when the sun comes up.”

Alastor chuckled. “Sounds good, dear.”

“Oh, before I forget.” Charlie lifted up and gave him a quick peck. “Goodnight,” she smiled.

How did she manage to always be so sweet? “Goodnight,” Alastor said back. Charlie nestled into the crook of his neck and listened to his heartbeat to fall asleep.

~*~*~*~

It was obvious from Husk’s stature and expression that he didn’t catch the perp. He stomped back to his truck where the other four waited for him. “Fuck,” he muttered as his only greeting. “Get in, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

“Who do you think it was?” Vaggie asked.

“It doesn’t matter who, it matters who hired him,” Husk growled. “And whoever hired him got exactly what they wanted.” Husk just wanted to go home. He was tired of exerting himself physically and he just wanted to put on his new pajamas from TJ Maxx and watch television until he passed out on his lazy boy.

A few minutes of silence passed. Angel waited until the truck was on the two-lane highway again. “So… do we tell Charlie?” he asked.

Vaggie scrunched her face up. “I’ve been wondering that, too. If we tell, we’re also ratting ourselves out.”

Angel nodded. “We’re supposed to work at the center tomorrow. Let’s just be cool, everyone.”

~*~*~*~

They weren’t cool about it.

“Alright guys, today is the big day! After today we’ll have officially completed phase one of the rehab center!” Charlie grinned.

She didn’t seem to notice the others' awkwardness when she and Alastor arrived Saturday morning. It was 10:00 in the morning. The walls were painted; debris and old furniture pulled out; plumbing checked; AC checked; termites inspected; everything was ready for new furnishings and to be officially except–

“New floors!” Charlie announced with a sing-song tune. “Isn’t that exciting? I think it’s exciting. We get to lay down brand new floors!”

Vaggie gave a weak smile, Angel hid behind his coffee, Niffty just nodded, Pentious shrugged, and Husk kept frowning. It helped that he was already known as the grumpy one. The lovebirds brought everyone coffee and donuts before arriving at the center to help build motivation.

Alastor noticed something was off about the room. He figured it was everyone now knowing that they were an item. Even Vaggie, who seemed to be less hostile than he figured she would be. Alastor didn’t know Charlie’s friends the way that she knew them, but he knew enough about people to tell when someone was uncomfortable. To him, it seemed the entire room was in a deeply unsettled state. Well, most of them were Charlie’s friends, but there was one person who he knew.

“Husk, a word,” Alastor said.

The older man looked up from his book. “Now?”

“Yes, now.” Husk grumbled to himself and lumbered over to Alastor, who pushed open the hallway door so they could speak privately. “What’s up, boss?” Husk asked.

“Something is off,” Alastor said, his voice tight. “Is there something you would like to tell me?”

Husk downplayed the nerves. He was a gambler, he knew how to keep a poker face. It didn’t matter that Alastor would flip a table or two if he found out that Husk took the whole gang to their date to spy on them. Oh yeah, and they caught someone photographing it all but they couldn’t catch who did it, so now everyone waited in tortured silence for the news to break. Otherwise, totally normal.

That wouldn’t do. Husk had to tell Alastor something.

“It’s Valentino,” Husk lied. Well, sorta. Valentino was certainly a point of contention between him and Angel. “He’s uh, y’know, putting the pressure on Angel. And Angel is trying to hide it from Charlie so it won’t upset her.”

“Why does that affect you?”

“It doesn’t affect me, but it’s not fun to watch New Orleans’s most notorious pimp try and fuck Angel over,” Husk growled. He puffed his chest up. “Look, I know you only care about Charlie here, but Charlie cares about all of us. So you need to have some second-hand empathy.”

Alastor stared at Husk’s pointed finger. “Who says I only care about Charlie?” he asked.

“Oh come on, I was born at night, but not last night. You don’t really give a shit about Angel, do you?”

The tables successfully turned. Now it was Alastor who had questions to answer. He wasn’t too bothered by this, he’d been in the hot seat many times during his broadcast. “If you’re asking me if I will lose sleep, let alone productivity in my day due to Angel’s problem… the answer is no,” Alastor said. “But that shouldn’t mean that I wish ill will on him. Obviously if he’s in a dire situation that requires intervention… someone will help him.”

Husk shook his head. “You’ve got a heart of gold, don’tcha boss?”

Alastor grinned. It was not a nice grin. “Am I truly supposed to believe that everyone is upset because Angel is–”

The question died on his lips when he heard a peculiar laugh coming from the front room. “Ha! My fucking God, this is the place?”

Alastor and Husk shared a look. “Adam,” they both said at the same time.

Before Alastor could go out there, Husk grabbed his shoulder and held him back. “Wait, Al! You’ve gotta keep it cool, got it? Don’t go fighting that asshole again!”

“I’m not gonna fight him but I’m not above throwing him out,” Alastor said through clenched teeth.

“Whatever reason he’s here, I promise you, it’s to rile you up. Don’t take the fucking bait.” Husk let go of Alastor’s shoulder. He watched him carefully stand straight up, straighten his shirt and vest, and rush back out to the front room. “Here we go,” Husk muttered before following the taller man.

Hopefully whatever happened, it wouldn’t end up with Husk running after someone. He was done chasing people. Done.

~*~*~*~

“Ugly. Fucking ugly. God, I can’t even with these tiles. Is that plant in the corner fucking dead?”

“It appears to be dead, sir.”

Adam and Lute had no problem walking past Lucifer’s security. It was obvious who Adam Evans was, and the body guards were never given specific instructions to keep them out. Therefore, the two walked into the front lobby with no issue whatsoever. “Ooh donuts,” Adam said. He strolled towards the box. “Well fuck, there’s no chocolate ones. Just glazed. Who the fuck gets donuts and doesn’t order chocolate?”

“Do not touch those donuts, intruder!” Charlie snapped, rounding the corner with a bucket of floor laminate. By the time Adam and Lute came in, the group had split up to get the work done. Alastor and Husk went to talk in the hallway, while the rest of them went into the back room to start the floors. “What are you doing here?” Charlie demanded.

Adam didn’t seem too bothered that he was caught red-handed. “Chillax babe, isn’t this place open to the public and shit? And I don’t want your cheap donuts, kay?”

Charlie faced the man who she once hated through a television and phone screen all those years ago. Now, she could hate him face-to-face. Adam was still the same prick he was ten years ago, just a bit more grizzled, the bags and lines on his face slightly more defined. “Not yet, no,” Charlie answered carefully. “So you need to leave.”

Adam and Lute exchanged looks. “They don’t even want to speak civilly,” Adam said. “Such a shame. I suppose it’s what we should have expected from them.”

“Why are you here?” Charlie demanded, raising her voice as she did so. “Are you here to gloat about your debate with my dad? I watched it, Evans, I wouldn’t say you won. Why the fuck are you here?”

“Keep it cool, Charlie.” Vaggie heard her getting excited and came out from the other room. As soon as Vaggie saw Lute, the air was charged with hostile energy. Lute smirked, knowing full well what her presence did to Vaggie. “I see you got a job in politics,” Vaggie commented from her spot next to Charlie.

Lute smiled, although in no universe would anyone take it for a friendly one. “And you got a job listening to whackos bitch about their sob stories,” she retorted. She looked at Adam. “This is the girl Vaggie I told you about. She gets paid to tell people to get over their shit.”

“I help them get over their shit,” Vaggie growled.

“Tch, same thing,” Adam scoffed. “Maybe we chose the wrong line of work. I can be a therapist, I can tell people to shut the fuck up and get over it.”

Vaggie expected this level of disregard and disrespect about her job. Charlie, on the other hand, couldn’t keep cool about it. “The only one who needs therapy is you, Evans!” she screeched. “You can find out why you’re such an asshole!”

Adam roared with laughter at her response. He full-belly laughed at her, which was the laughter that alerted Alastor and Husk that they had intruders. The two men entered the lobby from the hallway door. The moment that they saw them, Husk put himself between Alastor and the mayor candidate. “Oh, hey Alastor,” Adam greeted with a grin. “Ready for round two, babydoll?”

Alastor merely grinned. No one else knew the pressure that Husk had to apply to him to keep him in place; it was a detail only Husk needed to know. “Whenever you are,” Alastor countered.

“Easy boss,” Husk muttered for his ears only.

Alastor kept his eyes trained on Adam. “If you would please leave on your own accord, you won’t have to be kicked out,” he said, his voice hard. “You aren’t welcome here.”

Adam shrugged, but the shit-eating grin remained on his face. He was having fun with this. “Shame, and here I thought all sinners were allowed in this shit-hole,” he said. “I’m just here to wish you luck, Charlie. You’re all grown up now, nothing like the awkward as fuck teenager you were when I last saw you. I see your tits didn’t get any bigger, certainly not as big as Lilith’s pair of melons.”

This time it was apparent that Husk had to exert force to hold back Alastor. If it were anyone other than Husk, Alastor would have gotten past them and been at Adam’s throat. Husk held strong and kept him back.

Charlie held her own and eyed Adam. “I see you’re still the same pig,” she said.

“Oink oink, baby. You better hope daddy wins as mayor. I’m just here to give you a little friendly motivation. Sure would be a shame if as mayor, I looked into this building's foundation and codes, found out it was built after the hurricane, and had it condemned because it was found to have a hazardous foundation. Wouldn’t that be a shame, Lute? If these kiddos put in all that hard work just for it to be all for nothing.”

Lute glared Vaggie down. “Sure would be such a shame,” she smiled.

Charlie stepped forward. She stared Adam down, only a few feet away from him. Her hands curled into fists and her upper lip curled in a snarl. “Are you threatening me?”

Adam met her with a gleeful challenge. “I’m just saying,” he replied. “It would be a shame.”

“This building is up to code. You don’t have any grounds.”

“Oh, Charlie, babe, you forget that my family knows every single fucker in this city. I’m sure if I wanted this place to be found in violation, it would be found in violation. All it takes is the city council to back me up, who are all people my father knows, by the by, and it’s game over.” Adam grinned, pleased with himself. “Who fucking cares, anyway? So some drug addict overdoses, boo-fucking-hoo, we’ve got ten more where he came from. If people are so stupid to fall into their vices, fuck it, let them. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘hell is forever’?”

For a single moment, it felt like all of time stopped. Everyone in the room held their breath as they awaited Charlie’s reaction to Adam’s pure vitriol. He wanted Alastor to push past Husk and fight him. He wanted her to lose her cool and go wild on him. Charlie could see it in his eyes–he wanted a fight.

“This is your last warning to leave before you’re thrown out,” Charlie said. Her voice was surprisingly steady. “And don’t call me babe, asshole.”

Adam and Lute turned for the door. “One month until election results,” he said as left. “Let’s see if you’ve got more fight in you than your munchkin father. Unless you plan on abandoning him like Lilith did?”

Before Charlie or Alastor could reply, someone else beat them to it. “Shut the fuck up and get the fuck out!” Husk shouted. His voice reverberated through the entire room.

With a final cackle, Adam and Lute were gone.

Just like that, Charlie released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She sank forward, dizzy and lightheaded. Husk let Alastor go and he rushed to her side and grabbed her by the arms. Charlie leaned forward into Alastor for support. “Charlie, look at me,” Alastor instructed. The anger was layered beneath his voice, but the concern was front and center.

Charlie didn’t have tears in her eyes, but the storm was brewing. “Fuck him,” she said.

Vaggie put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“What the fuck happened?” Angel asked. He and Niffty had been upstairs working on their assigned room when all of this went down. Angel knew something had to be wrong if both Alastor and Vaggie were holding Charlie and they weren’t at each others’ throats from it. “Hey! Someone clue me in!” Angel demanded.

Husk threw his empty coffee cup at Angel’s head. “Hey, can’t you see they’re having a moment?” he growled.

“I told you, Adam wants to take me down,” Charlie said, speaking more to her lover and best friend than the entire room. “He’s got it out for me and my family.”

“We won’t let him win,” Vaggie said. She held onto Charlie’s shoulders tighter. “I promise, even if he does win, we won’t let him shut this place down. He has no right.”

“Men like Adam are relentless,” Alastor said. “They’re power hungry. That’s why he wants to run for mayor, he wants more power to control this city and feel like it belongs to him.”

Charlie stood up straight. She still felt a bit woozy, but there was conviction inside of her, too. “We’ll fight Adam with everything we have,” she proclaimed. She looked up and exchanged a brief glance as Alastor. There was anger in his eyes. However, there was also pride. Her chest swelled from the idea that he was proud of her. “After all,” she said, “I’m grown now.”

Notes:

IT. IS. DONE.

I don't have a ton of notes for this chapter, but y'all can see how I had to split the date up into two parts, one from Charlastor side, the other from everyone else's POV. Who hired the photographer? When will the pics of Alastor and Charlie be released, if they'll be released at all? How will it impact Charlie's project?

The running prompt for this chapter was for Adam to really solidify himself as the villain/asshole. When I think corrupt politician, I think Adam Evans lol. This chapter was important because it was the first time Adam faces off against Charlie. War has been declared.

Another important note here, I may not update next Friday *gasp* it might be Saturday at the latest, or it will be Friday, just earlier or later than my normal time. Hahaha I'm like 90% sure I can post Friday, just not sure what time. If everything goes right, I'll have the chapter saved as a draft on my phone and I can just hit publish and stay on track!

Also, remember in the second chapter of this fiction I said "lol it'll probably be four chapters" yeah that aged poorly xD I think I'm roughly halfway through this story, emphasis on I THINK here. I've got some future story notes to write through, but I think it's safe to say that this story will be around 20ish chapters.

It's definitely safe to say that this story was not four chapters long lmaooooooooo

Thank you for reading, thank you for the continued support <3 Idk I just love Charlastor, HEEHEE

Chapter 15

Summary:

War has been declared. What's the next move? Rosie has an idea...

“Did you get the pictures?”

“Of course I did.”

“Excellent. You’ll receive the other half of your payment after the files have been sent to the email I provided you.”

“Actually, the price went up. I want more. There are plenty of news outlets that will pay for these pictures for my new price.”

The voice on the other end of the line was not pleased. “You’re changing our deal after we already agreed?”

The man chuckled. “We never had a written contract, just a verbal one. I think you can afford the extra cost, given how much it’ll benefit you.”

“We’ll never work again after this.”

“Oh, we will. You’ll find out soon enough, I’m the best around. You’ll come back… and next time, you’ll be smarter and have it in writing.”

~*~*~*~

Rosie was late to the party, as was expected. She didn’t realize that there would be security there until she saw the black SUV parked towards the side of the building. “So Lucifer is helping,” she said to herself. As Rosie got out of her car, she saw Adam and Lute both walk out. “Oh shit,” she hissed.

Adam and Lute laughed to themselves and didn’t seem to notice Rosie, who was thirty or so feet away. There was no good reason that they were laughing, Rosie knew that much. Whatever brought them to the center was bad news.

As soon as their backs were to her, Rosie fast-walked to the front door. “Name?” the security guard asked.

“Rosie,” she said.

“You’re on the list.” The guard stepped aside so she could get through the door.

“Huh, that’s a first,” Rosie said. There were many clubs that she was not on the list for. She stepped inside. “Alastor? Charlie? Y’all okay?” she called out.

Charlie and Alastor were in the corner of the room, leaned against the wall, side by side and chatting quietly. It seemed they were having a “couple moment” between them. As for the rest of them, they gave them space and stayed near the front desk counter. Vaggie noticed Rosie first. “Hey,” she greeted.

Rosie waved. “Don’t tell me there was another fist fight.”

Alastor glared at his producer from across the room. “As a matter of fact, no,” he bit out.

“Hi Rosie,” Charlie greeted in a small voice.

The producer put her hands on her hips. “Alright guys, I’m not blind. What did shit-head Evans say?”

Charlie turned pink at the bold question. “Well, y’know, not much. Just that he wants to take down my center and he has every power to do so because he and his family knows everybody in this city. If he wins as mayor, he’ll do his absolute best to shut me down.” Charlie sighed, a large exhale that shook her entire body. She stepped to the center of the room, next to Rosie. “Listen everyone… I know that you’re here to help because of me. I’m not blind to it. And I love every one of you, so much. So, so, so, so, so, so–”

“Bring it home toots,” Angel interrupted.

“So much,” Charlie finished. “But I can’t ignore the fact that things are gonna get crazier around here. Adam Evans has a target on my back and my dad’s, and as much as I want to keep my head down and just focus on my center, that’s not practical. I have to fight back. I have to get political. I have to team up with dad.”

Vaggie and Angel exchanged looks. “Char…” Vaggie stammered. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You know that, right?”

Charlie bent her head down so her bangs could cover her eyes. She didn’t fool anyone in the room, everyone knew she was getting teary eyed. “It was naive of me to think that I could do this without acknowledging my roots as a Morningstar,” she said. “Alastor said it to me the very first day I met him in his office. Remember, Al? You wanted me to establish myself as Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer’s daughter.”

Alastor remembered that day very well. He didn’t think he’d ever forget it. “I’m not always right, Charlie,” he said. His eyes were fixed on her, luckily he didn’t notice the lightning-fast expression of smugness on Rosie’s face.

“You were right about that,” Charlie stated. She lifted her head and regarded the room. Alastor, Vaggie, Angel, Niffty, Husk, Pentious, and Rosie. People who have stuck with her through the ups and downs, who have given her their time and attention. “The truth is that we can’t pretend that we have nothing to do with the mayoral race. It affects us. Not only do we have to make sure that this place is up and running, that way it’s much harder for Evans to take down, but we have to help dad. I want to help my dad, guys. I will suffer any criticism that comes from it, I know people will call me his spoiled, entitled daughter. I don’t care. I’m telling all of you this because Adam Evans will come after you, too. He’ll get in your personal lives, I’m sure of it. If you don’t want to be part of that mess, I understand. Believe me, I do.”

A silence lapsed into the room.

“I always wanted to be on the news,” Niffty said, the first one to break the silence.

“Like I give a shit what Evans finds on me,” Husk said.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m already a pornstar. Bad publicity is still good publicity in show business, baby,” Angel grinned.

Tears ran freely down Charlie’s cheeks. They were happy tears. Vaggie stepped over and put a hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “We can do this,” she said.

“The work is almost done!” Pentious exclaimed.

“Adam Evans doesn’t own this city,” Rosie added. “We’ll remind him of that fact promptly.”

Finally, it was Alastor’s turn. He strode across the room and reached out to hold Charlie’s hand. Vaggie respectfully took a step back to make room for him. It was big of him to make such a gesture in front of others. This was out of Alastor’s comfort zone to be so forward in front of people. But the entire room knew they were dating, and when Charlie was crying, all caution was thrown to the wind.

His hand squeezed hers assuringly. “You’re right about our best offensive being defensive,” he said. “If we’re fully running as a rehab center by the time election day rolls around, even if he wins as mayor, he’ll have more hoops to jump through.”

Charlie wiped her teary cheeks on her shoulder. “We have a month,” she said.

“Perfect! I work well with deadlines!” Alastor grinned. “Don’t I, Rosie?”

Rosie nodded dutifully. “Better than anyone has any right to.”

“So what’s our next step?” Vaggie asked with a smile.

Before Charlie could answer, Rosie seized the opportunity. “Look, I know y’all wanted to work on the floors today,” she said. “I get it, now is the time to buckle down and work hard. But there’s gotta be a balance, too. I think it’ll do everyone good if we take a break, have some fun, and come back here refreshed and ready in the morning.”

Alastor groaned. He knew where this was going because Rosie casually mentioned it twice earlier in the week. “Oh no, don’t tell me–”

“Mardi Gras parade,” Rosie grinned.

“Sounds like the perfect place to get fucked up,” Husk muttered. He grinned. “I’m in.”

~*~*~*~

The Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans were a huge deal to the city. There were many people from out of state who wanted to party and see the elaborate floats and experience the culture first hand. This was a time of year where people–locals and out of towners alike–wore bright clothes, masks, jester hats, face paint, face jewels, and above all else–beads.

Lots and lots and lots of beads.

This wasn’t Alastor’s first rodeo with Mardi Gras. He didn’t live in this city his entire adult life without learning how to avoid it. Maybe if he hadn’t been so wrapped up and single-mindedly focused on one particular blonde-haired beauty, he would have better prepared to avoid the Mardi Gras mess. He heard Rosie mention the first kick-off parade throughout the week, but that didn’t mean much. He heard her, but he wasn’t listening to her.

Now, he was in a situation that he couldn’t escape. Alastor knew he was done for the moment Charlie lit up at the mention of a parade and everyone going together. Charlie loved nothing more than doing things together. “I totally forgot about Mardi Gras!” Charlie cheered in excitement. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t been for a few years! This will be so much fun! We’ll all see the parade, then back to work tomorrow!”

“What time does it start?” Angel asked.

“One o’clock,” Rosie answered. She checked her phone. “It’s almost 10:00. We have enough time to go get changed and ready, people will be lining up along the streets by eleven, you know how the pre-party goes.”

Angel seemed as excited about this as Charlie. “Oh, we’ve gotta show out. Face glitter, body glitter, hair glitter, baby we’re gonna sparkle out there. If anyone wants a makeover, y’all come to me and Charlie’s apartment. I’ll fix y’all up.”

“I can wear my new crop top!” Niffty cheered.

Rosie was pleased that this plan went swimmingly. She had every intention of staying at the center until 12:30 where she’d suddenly “not feel well” and then she’d high-tail it outta there. If everyone wanted to spend all of their Saturday fixing floors, that was fine, but she wanted to enjoy what the city had to offer. “We can meet at the French Quarter at 11:30 and find a spot,” Rosie suggested.

“You’re not coming home with us for face jewels?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, uh, no,” Rosie said, clearly caught off guard. “I’ve got a hat, that’s plenty.”

“Rosie, baby, you’re in this with us!” Angel exclaimed. “C’mon, let me put glitter on your face.”

The producer didn’t see a downside to having glitter on her face. “Alright, fine,” she said. “Just lead the way. Alastor are you–”

“I’m not wearing face glitter,” Alastor said, interrupting her.

“Big surprise,” Angel muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Charlie wasn’t blind to Alastor’s uncomfortable body language. “Um, side bar,” she said with a guilty grin. She took Alastor’s hand, copying his sentiment from earlier, and pulled him towards the front entrance. Out of respect, the others turned and talked to each other and took their attention off of the couple.

It seemed like they had enough privacy. Charlie dropped her voice volume anyway. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that you don’t like parades…” she said.

Alastor smirked. It helped that they were away from the others and he relaxed a bit. “A very good guess,” he replied.

“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.”

“Darling, I am not someone who enjoys being outside with hundreds if not thousands of people, the overwhelming majority of them drunk, all to watch silly floats pass us by and have beads thrown our way by even more drunk people.” Before Charlie could speak, Alastor cupped her cheek. It was a small gesture, but one that surprised her. “However,” he continued. “I cannot imagine that I’d stay home while you’re out there, knowing that something could happen to you and I wasn’t there.”

She should have guessed that Alastor would want to grin and bear it for the sake of her safety. “I can handle myself,” Charlie said. “And I wouldn’t have fun knowing that I’m forcing you to go with me. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Alastor met her eyes with a challenging gleam. “I’ve never once done anything in my life that I didn’t want to do,” he said with the utmost confidence. “And sure, this may not be my idea of fun, but I think Rosie has a point that it will build morale for our team. Besides.” He put the pad of his thumb on Charlie’s bottom lip. He struggled with his desire to kiss her and his self-consciousness of being affectionate in front of an audience. This was new territory to navigate for him. He kept his thumb on her lip and moved it off to cup her chin. “Besides,” he resumed, “I’ll have you with me. It’s never a waste of my time when I’m with you.”

She smiled. It was nice to see, considering how stressed she was about Adam. It wasn’t a complete fix, just a bandaid to the problem, but it was relieving to see her smile anyway. “So will you go with us back to the apartment while we glam up?” Charlie asked.

Alastor’s grin shrank just a tad. “For that, my dear, I shall wait in the car.”

~*~*~*~

Rosie’s motivation seemed to be just the fix for the group. Everyone ended up at Charlie and Angel’s apartment for the late morning. Everyone came in except Alastor, who insisted on staying in the car. Charlie promised him they wouldn’t be long and they sneaked a smooch when they were sure everyone’s backs were turned.

“So this is your place, huh,” Husk said when he walked in the front door.

“Like it?” Angel asked.

“It’s got some charm.”

“We need to make things hustle guys,” Charlie said. “Rosie, Niffty, Pentious, Husk, all of you can try to cram on the couch. Me, Vaggie, and Angel will get the glitter.”

“How much glitter do you have?” Husk asked.

“So much,” Charlie and Angel answered in unison. They looked at each other. “Jinx!”

Everyone made quick work for a last minute plan. Charlie worked on Niffty, Angel worked on Husk and Pentious, and Vaggie ended up with Rosie. Vaggie liked Alastor’s producer just fine, she seemed like she had her shit together for the most part. Her job was to solve problems, and it was obvious that she carried a certain air of confidence in her capabilities to do so.

“Uh, what color?” Vaggie asked.

“Surprise me,” Rosie said. “Oh, but I do like red.”

“I’ve got red.” Vaggie dipped her makeup brush in the glitter and started applying. “So, uh, you run all of Radio Demon’s socials?”

Rosie chuckled. “Well, it isn’t Al, that’s for sure. I do. I keep up with anything and everything Radio Demon.”

“Anything lately?”

“Not since the fist fight. Why? Did you see something?”

Vaggie pretended to sneeze so she could look away. “No! Just wondering.” So whoever took those paparazzi pictures from their date hasn’t posted or sold them yet. What were they waiting for? Vaggie thought it would happen the same night, but now it had been nearly twelve hours. “So, how do you handle bad press?” Vaggie asked.

“Well, believe it or not, Alastor isn’t that hard to manage,” Rosie answered. “I’ve got it easy compared to some people, like the producer for Katie Killjoy. Alastor doesn’t go out and about, he’s a very private guy. His downfall is what he says on his show, he doesn’t know how to catch flies with honey if you know what I mean. But that’s part of his appeal to his demographic! People both love and hate to hear his opinions.”

Vaggie carefully applied the red eyeshadow to accentuate the glitter. “What if there was bad press about him? How would you handle it?”

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Well girly, that’s a tough question and depends on the type of press. Usually it helps me to know what kind of bad publicity we’re talking about. Alastor gets arrested for a DUI? Very bad. I’d kill him myself for it. Alastor is caught running a red light? Not the best, not the worst. Really, it depends on the crime.”

Vaggie came very close to telling Rosie the truth. She thought about taking the blame for all of it, she didn’t have to tell Rosie that the others were there. Could Rosie fix a narrative before it was even published? Was she really that good?

But admitting it was also admitting that she followed her best friend on her date with Alastor. Vaggie internally groaned. She really should have listened to Husk. She should have just let Charlie go and have her fun.

“Are you alright, dear?” Rosie asked.

Vaggie was caught off guard by her question. “Me? Oh, yes, sorry. It’s been a rough couple of hours.”

“I can’t imagine Adam and Lute helped anything.”

“Yeah, they’re to blame. Really.” Vaggie didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t know Rosie very well, all she knew was that Charlie really liked her. It was easy to see why. “Thanks for inviting us to the parade. I think it’ll help everyone get in the right frame of mind and be ready to fight.”

Rosie smiled. “Of course!”

~*~*~*~

Alastor didn’t think this was how his Saturday would end up, but he was committed to it now. This was his chance to show Charlie that he was a supportive, nurturing boyfriend. Even if it meant he had to spend the day with her friends. He spent the next hour in his car thinking about the Evans family and how they could be stopped. The first step was to assess how much control they really had over this city. Control was power. Adam was powerful. If he won as mayor, he may be even more powerful than Lucifer himself.

No one was invincible. Everyone had weaknesses. Alastor would find them in the Evans family. Adam made a grave mistake when he made this personal, not only against him, but against Charlie especially.

Alastor’s thoughts went dark. The Radio Demon begged to be let out, to control the narrative, just for a little while. He sat there with his violent thoughts playing in the forefront of his mind like a movie screening. If Husk hadn’t been there to hold him back, Alastor knew he would have snapped. He indulged himself and thought of Adam’s bloodied face after he punched him repeatedly. How good it would have felt to completely pummel the asshole.

When did you lose such control of yourself?

What happened to never letting anyone see beyond the grin?

Now look at you. All for what?

“For Charlie,” Alastor muttered. He rubbed his temples. “He can’t just say those things about Charlie. He can say whatever he wants about me, I don’t care.”

There had to be a weakness in Adam’s armor. Alastor was going to find it if it was the last thing he’d do. Before his thoughts took a turn for the worst, he heard the apartment door close and the group walk towards his car. Leading the pack was Charlie, who had her hair tied up in a ponytail and wore a white dress with a sweetheart neckline, pink glitter on her cheeks, and a pair of pink, sparkled converses. She looked so happy as she approached him. He rolled down his driver’s side window.

“Al!” Charlie greeted. “We’ll ride alone. I told the others to cram in Rosie and Niffty’s cars.”

“I have you all to myself?” Alastor asked with a grin.

She jumped around the front of the car and nearly fell into the passenger’s seat. “You do!” Charlie proclaimed happily. “Thanks again, Al. For doing this with me and my friends.” Charlie intertwined their fingers together. “And just one more teeny tiny detail that I need to tell you.”

Alastor stared at her fingers laced between his. “Hmm?” he asked. She was like an enchantress, she could say anything and he'd agree to it with her hands entwined with his.

“I asked dad to meet us there, too.”

He snapped out of his temporary stupor. “Did you now?”

Charlie grinned guiltily. “I’ll owe you one!”

“I seem to recall that you already owe me one, dear.”

“That’s different, I owe you one in the sex department. Now, I’ll owe you one in the general department,” Charlie said.

He blinked. “What if I want two favors in the sex department?”

She shrugged. “Let’s just see how well you get along with dad. Maybe I’ll make it three instead.”

Alastor started the car. He grinned at the presented challenge. “You’ll receive nothing but my best behavior.”

~*~*~*~

The first parade of the year was expected to be crowded. There was no easy parking anywhere close, and the places one could park at had to be paid for. Alastor and Charlie ended up parking at his residential apartment, which put them six blocks away from the French Quarter, and Niffty bit the bullet and paid for parking in a lot. And by paid for parking, she made Pentious and Angel give her five bucks each to pay for it.

“We’ll be there in ten, just hang tight,” Charlie said on the phone. She hung up with Vaggie. “Okay, they’ll be on the street. Ready to go?”

Alastor looked up longingly at his apartment. His home was right there, just fifty feet away. What were the odds that he could get Charlie in there and make her forget all about the parade? Depending on what he used to make her forget (his tongue, his cock) he figured the odds were fairly decent. If she let him work her the same way she did last night, his odds were pretty good.

“Earth to Alastor,” Charlie said in a sing-song tune with a smile.

He realized that he spaced out on her. He shook his head and came back down to earth. “Sorry, lost in thought,” he said. He wasn’t sorry, they both knew it.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Thinking naughty thoughts?”

He grinned. “Who, me? How could you think that of me?”

She urged him to start walking with her down the sidewalk. “I dunno, I guess because I was, too.”

Oh, now that was interesting. “Do tell,” Alastor said.

“I’ll talk if you walk, mister.” Alastor gave up his futile dream and walked with Charlie down the sidewalk of the city. It wouldn’t be long until they reached the French Quarter, six blocks was no problem for either of them. Alastor didn’t enjoy living so close to the city whenever big events went on, Mardi Gras being one of them. It made local traffic a local, waking nightmare. However, there were small pleasantries to living so close to the heart of the city. The good made up for the inconvenience. When Charlie was sure that he was paying attention, she looked up at him and gave a small grin. “Can you guess what I thought about?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure I could even begin to decipher what vixen thoughts go through that head of yours,” Alastor said with a purr. “You’re not as sweet and innocent as you make yourself out to be.”

“When have I ever said I was innocent?”

“Fair point. Let’s see, if I had to guess… were you perhaps imagining another round of blowing me?”

Charlie’s face turned pink. It didn’t matter that she was the one who instigated this mess, she still blushed. “Yes,” she giggled. She was caught red-handed. “What about you? What naughty ideas did you have?”

Ah, so the tables turned on him. “Guess,” Alastor replied.

Her blush intensified. “Um, more sp-spanking?” She was so embarrassed. It was so cute. Alastor chuckled and stopped walking. Charlie halted in her steps as well, confused as to why he stopped. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her forward. Charlie lost her balance and stumbled into him, which was exactly his plan. It just so happened that they were behind a hedge bush that was in front of a residential home. The hedge provided enough cover for the passing public eye. “Al what are–”

Charlie’s question was silenced with a kiss. Alastor leaned down and kissed her hungrily, their first proper kiss since early that morning. He knew he had to have restraint, as much as he wanted more. He settled for running his tongue along her plump bottom lip and giving her a little bite. She squeaked into his mouth and he drank her squeak up before breaking their kiss.

“I’ve been reduced to kissing in bushes,” Alastor whispered. He laughed, moreso a joke for his own enjoyment than hers. “Oh Charlie, what else will you make me do?”

She didn’t have an immediate response, her mind was still reeling from his kiss. Alastor had no right to be so sly about his moments of affection. Just when she thought that they would play it cool, he had to go swoop in and give her a taste of what could be hers. It was unfair. Charlie snapped out of her stupor as Alastor gently pulled them back to the sidewalk. Just like that, the two resumed their stroll through the city, as if a quick kiss pit stop never happened.

“So was I right?” Charlie asked quietly.

“About what?”

He was going to make her say it again, the bastard. “The spanking,” Charlie hissed.

“Oh, right. No, you weren’t. Sorry dear.”

“Th-then what were you thinking about?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out later.” He grinned, clearly delighted with himself. “Come on, Charlotte. Let’s enjoy what this fine city has to offer. Are we counting this as our second date even though we have company?”

He was already thinking of a second date with her? Charlie smiled. “It sure is!”

~*~*~*~

The text from Valentino came in before they left for the parade. Angel wanted to throw his phone across the room. Why was Valentino so talented at knowing the worst time of day to message him?

We’re celebrating on Bourbon St come say hi ;) <3 the text read. Followed up with, And you’re on for tonight, be sure to get worked all night long baby xx

This was Valentino playing nice. It always seemed so genuine on the outside, like he actually gave a shit about him. But Angel knew better than anyone that if he didn’t do as Valentino asked, the exterior would crack, and his angry side would shine through. The Valentino who didn’t care that Angel worked sixteen hour days, who laughed at his attempts to stay off drugs, who supplied his workers with coke and threw it in his face about it.

Angel’s temperament changed when they parked. Niffty bitched at him for money and he gave her a five without argument. All he could think about was the probability of him getting away from the group to see Val on Bourbon Street. Then, of course, the probability that he could get away from Val and get back to the group. It was hopeless–once he went to Valentino, he was done for.

“You okay?” Vaggie asked.

Angel sighed, “Yeah I’m just t–” He spun around to look at Vaggie, only to see that she wasn’t talking to him in the first place. She was speaking to Pentious, who nearly tripped over a fire hydrant on the sidewalk. Pentious assured he was fine. Angel played off his mistake, feigning a cough. “Watch where you step,” he told Pentious.

“Are you okay?” a new voice asked.

“Oh very funny,” Angel said. He didn’t need to look to know it was Husk who asked. He smirked at him. Husk looked a bit funny in the house when he applied sparkles and glitter to his face, but now that he was in the streets with the rest of the people, he looked like he fit right in. He chose blue glitter and put on a bejeweled bowtie that Angel had in his closet. Husk never looked snazzier… or more handsome, in Angel’s unspoken opinion.

The group couldn’t all walk together on the sidewalk because of how many people were out and about. The streets didn’t have to clear until the floats arrived, which was another hour or so away. Vaggie and Rosie lead the troop, then Niffty and Pentious, and finally it was Angel and Husk.

“You still mad at me for asking questions?” Husk asked.

Angel sighed. “Why, you want to ask some more?”

“Well, yeah. I can keep the questions coming all day long.”

If Husk only knew that Valentino was trying to get Angel all to himself. Angel sighed, “If we’re gonna play twenty questions, I need a hurricane or some kind of alcohol.”

“Perfect place to get one.” Husk grabbed his hand and veered them to the right, which just so happened to be a bar. There were plenty of them in the city. The ceiling fans were on full blast and the extra air was a welcome reprieve. “First round is on me,” Husk said. Angel followed him to the bar.

“What about the others?” Angel asked.

Husk shrugged. “They’ve got phones they’re addicted to, just text them. We’ve got time to kill anyway, and we’re still waiting on Alastor and Charlie. Sit down.” Angel did as he was told. The drinks were ordered and a tall, cold hurricane was placed in front of him. It was served in the classic neon green plastic cup. “I haven’t had one of these in awhile,” Husk said with a grin. “A couple of these would knock me on my ass.”

Angel took a sip of his drink. “Valentino wants me to work tonight,” he said. “He’s on Bourbon Street. He wants me to go see him.”

Husk kept an even poker face and sipped his drink. “Yeah? What do you want?”

“I want to stick around with the group,” Angel said.

“And what about going to work? You want to do that?”

“Nobody wants to work.”

“Sure, but nobody wants to feel forced to work, either. Like their boss is going to go psycho on them and force them to work.” Game, set, match.

“I can’t get out even if I wanted to,” Angel said. “That’s the part you’re not getting, the part that’s frustrating. Look at me, Husk. I’m a sex worker. A pornstar.”

Husk didn’t seem too bothered by it. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get out. Do you want out?”

Angel was halfway through his hurricane at this point. “I can’t get out,” he muttered.

Husk groaned in what seemed like irritation. “You’re not good at giving straight answers,” he grumbled. “It’s pretty simple, yes or no? Do you want out?”

“Well, sometimes the answer isn’t as easy as a yes or no.”

“In all of my years, I’ve found that it can always be as simple as a yes or no. Just be honest with me, Angel. Do you want out?”

This wasn’t the first time the spotlight was put on Angel, he’d been in this situation many times before with Charlie, Cherri, and Vaggie. It was always the same song and dance of “are you okay/you can do whatever you want/don’t let Val get you down” in some capacity or another. Cherri was easy to distract, she didn’t like seeing Angel upset and was easy to back off. Charlie didn’t like seeing Angel upset either, although it was tricky to get her to back off without her sympathy crying for hours. Vaggie was both the easiest and the toughest shell to crack–she hardly ever got deeply personal with him, but when she did, she was very much “if you don’t want my advice then don’t ask for it” type of person.

Husk was different from all of them. He just wanted honesty from him.

Angel finished off his hurricane. He reached over and took Husk’s hurricane and threw that one back, too. Husk didn’t seem too upset about it, but it could have been his practiced poker face. All juiced up on alcohol, Angel slammed the empty cup down. “I want out,” he said in a single gasp of air. “I’m sick and tired of it, Husk. But there’s nothing I can do about it, so that’s just what I have to deal with. There. Happy?”

He didn’t want to see Husk’s face. He slammed his face on the bar counter and shut his eyes. The alcohol made his head swim. Husk put a hand on Angel’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “You told the truth,” he said. It sounded like he was smiling. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

~*~*~*~

“There they are!” Charlie exclaimed. She saw her friends scattered about in the French Quarter. Charlie had to resist the urge to hold Alastor’s hand as they crossed the street. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, of course she did, but she didn’t know if he wanted to yet. As soon as they were alone together, she was determined to ask Alastor how he felt about going public. She already dealt with Vaggie’s reaction, all she had to deal with now was her father’s.

A man in a silver, glittery top hat and a fake glittery mustache approached them. Charlie didn’t have to look up at Alastor to know that he was bracing himself for his performance. “Psst Charlie! It’s me!” the mustache-clad man announced. He was very pleased with himself.

“Hi dad,” Charlie greeted. She waited until they were on the sidewalk to hug Lucifer. His disguise was ridiculous in any other context, but for the parade, he looked great. His mustache and top hat did enough to keep him in disguise from his feral fans. He wore a striped purple, green, and yellow jersey, which were the Mardi Gras colors. “You look good, dad!” Charlie praised.

Lucifer did a little twirl in place. “Thanks Char, glad you think so. You do too! Oh, the sparkles suit you so well! You’re such a bright, shining star in everyone’s life who meets you.” Lucifer looked at Alastor, who didn’t wear any such glitter, sparkles, or Mardi Gras themed clothing. He wore his usual gray slacks, loafers, white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and his red vest. “You don’t look fabulous,” Lucifer stated very matter-of-factly.

“As intended,” Alastor replied.

“I’m glad you came,” Charlie told him. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, I know. Not fun stuff, you with your debate, and I had a run-in with Adam…”

Lucifer didn’t like hearing that one bit. “What did he say?” he asked. “Where did you see him?”

Charlie realized her mistake. “Oh, haha, it’s okay! We can talk about that later!”

“It’s nothing that Charlie didn’t handle herself,” Alastor said. His grin could easily be mistaken for a haughty smirk.

Lucifer snapped his head at him. “Were you there?”

“Of course.”

Adam’s taunts from the debate yesterday flashed through Lucifer’s mind. Adam was convinced that Alastor and Charlie were a thing, an item as the kids would say. Alastor’s words only made Lucifer more on edge to the fact that Adam may have been right.

The Morningstar man decided it was time for a good ol’ shake down, something he learned in his earlier days in politics (and spent most of his time binge-watching Law and Order). He puffed his chest up and took one step towards the man he really, really, really, really didn’t like. However, as Lucifer did so, a passing crowd of drunk people knocked into him, one of the men elbowing him and nearly sending him to the ground.

Luckily, Charlie caught Lucifer before he lost his balance. “Hey! Watch it!” Lucifer yelled.

The drunk men turned around and laughed. “You watch it, old man!”

Lucifer snarled. “Wretched drunks, don’t you know who I am?!”

“Isn’t the point that no one knows who you are?” Alastor asked. He stood with his hands behind his back, no intention of helping steady Lucifer to his feet.

He grimaced. “This is why I don’t like going into my normie disguise.”

“I appreciate it, dad,” Charlie smiled. She carefully stepped between Lucifer and Alastor, well aware of Alastor’s eyes on her back. “Come on, let’s have fun. I’m ready to catch some beads with you!”

Her charms worked, as they often did. Lucifer smiled at his daughter. “Whoever gets the most beads wins! You’ll have to buy dessert tonight!”

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day to be outdoors. As much as Alastor didn’t want to admit it, it was also a perfect day for a parade. He refused to drink while at the event, although he could afford a whiskey without worrying about it. No, he decided to hold off until the evening to have any sort of alcohol. There was something about seeing other drunk people around him that made him lose his taste for drinking. Drunk people weren’t his cup of tea.

Charlie and Lucifer chatted about various mundane things and Alastor stayed put in his spot behind them. Lucifer used his hands to tell some grand story, and Charlie listened with every ounce of her attention. Despite himself, Alastor couldn’t help but smirk at the father and daughter duo. Charlie may have taken after Lilith’s looks, but she had her father’s mannerisms through and through.

You better get used to it, you’re in an alliance with Lucifer now.

Alastor wondered what would happen after the election. If everything went well, Lucifer would be mayor, Adam Evans would be disgraced, and the target would be taken off Charlie’s back. Would he go back to targeting Lucifer as the Radio Demon? How would that look?

No, that would look bad. He’d look like Vox, who attacked anyone and anything to keep his views up. Alastor knew that he better start liking the idea of working with Lucifer, or at the very least, be neutral about it.

It goes deeper than that, you know.

Yes, he was keenly aware. Lucifer wouldn’t take the news of him dating his daughter well. Not well at all. Perhaps if Alastor was smart, he’d start offering the olive branch now before Charlie was ready to tell her father the truth. After all, years and years of criticizing Lucifer, there was a lot of work to do.

The idea of it made him grimace. No one looked at him, he was free to contort his face in any displeased look he wanted. It felt like he was sucking up, which was another Vox move.

For Charlie.

Alastor sighed. Maybe he could drink one whiskey, just one. “Hey, Niffty,” Alastor said. The young woman happened to be closest to him other than the Morningstars.

Niffty looked up at him questioningly. This was perhaps the first time he directly spoke to her. He made it a point to avoid her ever since she told him about her silly fanfictions or whatever the hell she said to him. “Yeah?” Niffty asked.

Alastor handed her a ten dollar bill. “Retrieve me a whiskey.”

Niffty scrunched her face up. “Who says ‘retrieve’ anymore?” she asked.

“I just did. You are over the age of twenty-one?”

“Puh-lease! Can’t you tell?”

Alastor knew he needed to be nice, he needed a favor from her. “Ah yes, I see now. Just a whiskey. You can keep the change.”

Niffty took the ten and shrugged. “Cool,” she said. She grabbed Pentious, who was in the middle of a conversation with Angel, and dragged him across the street with her. Alastor wondered if Pentious understood that he didn’t have to follow Niffty wherever she went. Oh well, he was a grown man, he’d understand the concept of free will eventually.

“So then I tell him ‘oh no honey, you aren’t talking to me like that’ and I grabbed him and gave him a good shake before I put more soap on him,” Lucifer said, telling his story with a grin.

Charlie laughed. “That’s great!”

Alastor resisted the urge to sneer. Instead, he forced himself to grin and faked a laugh to join in with Charlie’s. “Haha! Amusing!”

Lucifer looked up to glare at Alastor. “Do you know what I’m talking about?” he asked.

I really don’t give a fuck, Alastor thought. Instead he said, “Well, if you’re putting soap on whoever you’re talking about, I’d assume you’re speaking about the ducks?”

Genuine surprise etched Lucifer’s face for a brief second. “You know about the ducks?” he asked.

“I told him!” Charlie beamed. “He knows all about the park ducks, and about Cornbread.”

“Ah yes, perhaps one day I’ll meet Cornbread,” Alastor said conversationally.

Lucifer stiffened and straightened up, losing his previous enthusiasm. “I don’t think Cornbread would want to meet you,” he said.

“Dad,” Charlie said.

“Well it’s true, darling! Do you really think that the ducks want to meet the Radio Demon after years and years of slander?”

Where was Niffty with the whiskey? He needed it. Badly.

“Well to be fair, I never slandered the ducks. Just you,” Alastor said through gritted teeth. “And of course if I ever met said ducks at said park, I would be respectful. No reason to start more fires. So, tell me, Lucifer. How has your day been?”

The expressions from the two Morningstars couldn’t have been more opposite. Lucifer was suspicious, thrown off guard by Alastor’s sudden interest in being civil towards him. Charlie had a look of complete adoration–she knew he was trying to get along with her father. Alastor would have sworn that he saw her entire body twitch with anticipation; she wanted nothing more than to hug him to show her gratitude. She had to reign it in and hold herself back, something that drove her absolutely wild.

“Here you go,” Niffty said. She walked back up with the whiskey. “You said keep the change but instead I bought myself a–oof!” Right as Alastor took the drink, Charlie pounced at Niffty and picked the small woman up, squeezing her tightly and spinning her around. “Charlie!” Niffty shrieked, although she laughed as she did so. “What the heck?!”

“Sorry Niffty I just love you soooooooooooooo much!” Charlie gushed. “And sometimes it drives me bonkers to hold it in, you know? And I'd tell you every day how much I love you if you would let me!”

“Cool?” Niffty said.

Charlie set her down. She sighed, “Much better.”

Alastor drank his whiskey pensively as he listened to Lucifer talk about his morning coffee with oat milk. He couldn’t help the quick look of contemptment as Niffty walked away.

It should have been me.

~*~*~*~

The energy of the crowd went insane as soon as the first round of floats passed by. Each one was elaborate and themed, with the people inside the floats dressed up to match. They played upbeat jazz music, one float even had a live jazz band, and every float threw the classic multi-colored beads. Everyone in the group participated in catching a bead. Alastor stayed clear of it until a red-colored necklace caught his eye. He promptly reached forward and snatched it easily with his long arms. No one else seemed to notice, although Charlie did give him a knowing look. He smirked down at her as he put on his one red beaded necklace. “Looks good,” Charlie mouthed over the loud music.

“I know,” Alastor mouthed back.

A few feet away, Vaggie and Rosie stood together to watch the floats. Vaggie didn’t think she’d spend the majority of the day with the producer, but the more time she spent with her, the more she liked her. Rosie wasn’t terribly older than her, no more than five years, but it was nice to hangout with someone who was older and made Vaggie feel like she didn’t have to be the mature one. Rosie certainly had a good head on her shoulders. She was everything that Vaggie wanted to be by the time she was thirty–established in her field, steady job, her own house, freedom to do whatever she wanted in her free time. When Rosie mentioned her divorce, to Vaggie that made her even more human. It certainly made her feel better about being single.

Vaggie knew that the point of the parade was to reset, let loose, and not worry about the center. It was easier said than done. “Who is Adam’s demographic?” Vaggie asked.

Rosie, who had a few drinks, wasn’t bothered by this question. She was bouncing back and forth to the beat, she already had ten or more beads around her neck, she felt better than good she felt great. “Uh, I think it’s people over fifty and a small percentage of the young people, who would be the older people’s children, more than likely,” Rosie answered.

“It’s hard to change the older demographic’s mind,” Vaggie said. “Most of them are set in their ways.”

“Local politics is always like that,” Rosie said with a wave of her hand. “You’ll get Mr. Bob who’s almost sixty years old who votes for the Evans family because he’s known the Evans family since he was twenty. Why would Mr. Bob change his mind and vote for Morningstar? And Mr. Bob’s son, Bob Jr., has only ever done what Mr. Bob is done. If Mr. Bob votes for Evans, why would Bob Jr. vote for Morningstar?” Rosie chuckled at her scenario. She was tipsy but she was having fun. “That’s just how it is sometimes.”

“So how do we change Mr. Bob’s mind?” Vaggie asked.

“Good question! You don’t.”

“What?”

“You’ve gotta look at who is willing to change their perspective, Vaggie. Mr. Bob is set in his ways, he’s not changing. Maybe, but I doubt it. Bob Jr., however, has only ever done what his father has done. If we convince Bob Jr. that he doesn’t have to vote the same as his dad, that he can vote for who he thinks is best, not what his father thinks is best, we have a chance.”

Vaggie thought about this. How many people in this city were Mr. Bobs and how many were Bob Jr.s? How many people were willing to listen? How many people have had a chance to change their minds and see things their way?

Rosie’s phone pinged loudly. “Jeez,” she muttered. She checked her phone and Vaggie watched with trepidation as Rosie’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. “Oh fuck!”

“I’m sorry!” Vaggie cried. “We knew it happened, but we didn’t want to admit it and tell on ourselves! I should have told you, I know, you could have figured something out! You’re so smart!”

The confession poured out of Vaggie’s mouth like running water. Rosie looked at her with a confused expression. “Vaggie, darling, what do you mean?”

“Wasn’t the notification on your phone about Alastor and Charlie?”

“What? No! My phone just notified me that Target is running new deals,” Rosie answered. Vaggie stared up at her in a mixture of embarrassment and horror. The parade went on and everyone had a blast, but Rosie and Vaggie were in their own little bubble. Rosie, sobered up slightly, cupped Vaggie’s cheek. It was a motherly gesture, one to emphasize the concern on her face. “Vaggie… what happened?”

The shorter girl broke their eyes and stared at the ground. “Uh, we were stupid, Rosie. So stupid.”

“We?”

“Shit, me. I was stupid. It was just me.”

“What did you do?”

The cat was out of the bag now. Vaggie sighed. “Last night was Charlie and Alastor’s date. I followed them–just me–to their date spot to make sure Alastor wasn’t being a creep. While I was spying on them, I saw a guy dressed all in black taking photographs of them. I tried to run after him, but he got away. I didn’t dare tell Charlie, because I know it makes me look psycho, but I know those pictures will be used against them. I keep waiting for them to be published in the tabloids.”

The old saying was “the truth will set you free” but Vaggie felt like the truth made her want to vomit. She braced herself and waited for Rosie to get mad and chastise her. Good things weren’t meant to last, right? She could say goodbye to her camaraderie with Rosie.

Instead, Rosie repeatedly blinked and put a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder to brace herself. “Ooooooookay,” Rosie said with a slight slur to her words. “So this spy got pictures of them together?”

“Yeah, like a date,” Vaggie said.

“So the question is, how can pictures of Alastor and Charlie together be spun to make them look bad? Why haven’t the pictures been posted yet? Perhaps because it’s Saturday and the spy knows that I’ll have time to think of a rebuttal on Monday. If I were the spy, I’d wait until Monday just before the show, that way I’d catch Alastor off guard.” Rosie giggled, her face turning red. “See Vaggie, this is fun! We’re like detectives playing chess with the mastermind!”

That was not what she expected. Vaggie was relieved that Rosie wasn’t mad, although she wasn’t sure how seriously she took this. “Um, Rosie, how drunk are you?”

“Oh please, I could be much worse. I’ve been much worse. I’m fine, don’t worry, I’m fine.” Rosie giggled and caught another stray bead that flew in her direction. “You give it a go, Vaggie. What bad could come from pictures of our lovebirds on a date?”

Vaggie never considered this. She was so focused on the fact that it happened that she never thought about the why. Perhaps telling Rosie was a good move, after all. “Well,” Vaggie began, “It could be said that Alastor is biased. First he punches Adam and more or less aligns himself with Lucifer, now it comes out that he’s dating Charlie. People could accuse him of being disingenuous.”

Rosie nodded enthusiastically. “Keep going!”

Vaggie gave her a weak smile. “And it’ll only fuel the fire for Adam Evans, who wants to take Lucifer down. He’ll accuse Alastor of unfair bias, tell the people that they can’t trust a man who hides his relationship.”

The older woman applauded. “Well done! So, what would the solution be?”

Oh, no. “Uh… come out with our own version of the events first and take away their firepower?”

“Yes, exactly. Sometimes it’s easier to do damage control when you’re the one who caused the damage.” Rosie patted Vaggie’s head. “Excellent, most excellent.”

“Wait, so what are we going to do? Expose Charlie and Alastor ourselves?” Vaggie asked. That seemed like a bad, unlikely idea. Especially with Lucifer present. Vaggie started to think that drunk Rosie was good for idea planning but not so much on the execution.

Rosie shrugged. “I’ll run it by Al. Look at him, Vaggie. See how his eyebrows are set downwards and his jaw is tight. That’s his grumpy face. If he were a cat, his ears would be pinned back like airplane ears.” Rosie giggled hysterically. Maybe she was more tipsy than she was letting on.

~*~*~*~

If Charlie had to rate the awkwardness between Alastor and Lucifer, she’d give it a 7/10 which really wasn’t bad, considering when Lucifer showed up to her apartment which was a 10/10. Lucifer seemed to loosen up slightly around Alastor, Charlie could tell by his body language. She didn’t think they would be best friends, oh no, but they were being civil to each other. Maybe after a few holidays together they would bridge the gap between “I tolerate you” to “you’re okay”.

The parade was halfway over. Plans were never discussed about what they’d do after, Charlie hoped that they could get some late lunch and sober themselves up. She looked over to check on the others–Angel and Husk stood shoulder to shoulder, whispering to each other and laughing privately, Niffty and Pentious were enjoying the parade and catching beads and moon pies, and Vaggie seemed deep in conversation with Rosie.

Charlie couldn’t help but smile to herself. These people all came together for her, all of them had a part in helping her with her center. She meant it when she said she loved them all.

If only one of them would let me say I love you to them directly.

She looked behind her shoulder at Alastor. He looked like he belonged with them, as much as he would disagree. He fit in with their group, even if he thought otherwise. His eyes caught hers and his mouth twitched up. Lucifer chatted with his back to Alastor, both him and Charlie facing the parade. Charlie looked back forward, nodding to her father’s words, and secretly reached her hand behind her. She reached for air and hoped that Alastor would get the hint.

Alastor’s much bigger hand entwined in hers. He held her hand lightly, just in case they needed to break apart. But his skin was on hers, and Charlie’s heart fluttered in her chest. She smiled even wider and shut her eyes, focusing on the soft skin of his hand.

“Oh, here comes Carmine Industries,” Lucifer said. “They always have a float in these parades.”

Did Charlie tell Lucifer about her meeting with Carmilla on Monday? She couldn’t remember. Oh well, she had plenty of time to tell him. Lucifer’s phone went off. He unlocked his phone (passcode 0000 just as it’s always been) and Charlie happened to look passively at his phone screen. She wondered idly who messaged him, if it was someone from his security team.

Lucifer opened up his unread messages. There was a text from an unknown number. Attached were pictures of Charlie and Alastor from last night, dressed up in their date clothes, pressed together during their dance at the jazz club. There were several pictures, some of them up close, and the last one was of Alastor kissing Charlie’s forehead.

Charlie squeaked in a mixture of shock and humiliation. “D-dad!” she shrieked.

Lucifer turned to Alastor, who had no idea what was happening. “You son of a bitch!” he roared. “You are dating my daughter! Behind my back! How dare you!”

Alastor held his ground. “Easy, I’m not trying to start anything.”

Lucifer bared his teeth. He would have looked intimidating if it weren’t for his sparkly fake mustache. “I am, fucker!” he growled. He grabbed Alastor by the shirt and pulled him forward. Someone with Lucifer’s build and height should not have had the leverage to get Alastor off his feet. But not only was Lucifer fueled by his blind fatherly rage, people tended to underestimate the Short King. He was stronger than he looked.

“Dad, stop!” Charlie cried.

The two men stumbled in the street, right as the Carmine Industries float was about to pass them. The driver of the float slammed on the breaks so he wouldn’t hit the two men. Carmilla, who was leaned over the ledge of the float to throw beads, wasn’t prepared for the sudden stop.

WHUMP!

Carmilla fell out of the float. Everything seemed to go down in slow motion–Charlie screaming, Lucifer trying to get a punch in on Alastor, and Carmilla shouting as she fell. The only one with enough reflexes to do something was the one everyone unanimously thought was useless–Pentious.

He caught Carmilla before she fell to the street. Carmilla was much bigger than Pentious and he nearly crumpled to a heap himself, but the adrenaline inside of him kept him upright. “My God!” Carmilla exclaimed. She immediately got to her feet and shoved Pentious away from her. “Get off me!”

“Jeez,” Pentious muttered. So much for heroics.

Carmilla stomped over to Lucifer and Alastor, who were the cause for the outrageous chaos. Lucifer did his best to punch Alastor in the face and Alastor did his best to evade his punches. In some ways it looked like the two were dancing. “YOU BETTER SHOW SOME RESPECT,” Carmilla boomed, putting herself between the two men. She smacked Lucifer upside his head and smacked Alastor upside his head. Alastor’s glasses almost fell off. “CHECK YOUR BEHAVIOR!”

“Are you fucking serious,” Alastor hissed to himself.

Rosie and Vaggie ran over to the group. “You okay?” Vaggie asked Charlie.

Charlie shook her head. “Someone sent my dad pictures of our date! Someone has pictures of us!”

Vaggie’s heart dropped to her stomach. “Rosie! What do we do?”

Rosie grit her teeth. She grabbed Alastor from Carmilla and dragged him back to the sidewalk. “Would you stop manhandling me, I’m fine!” Alastor hissed. He was properly roughed up, his hair a mess, and his glasses askew on his face. He was beyond pissed, but he held back whatever rage was within him for Charlie.

“Boss, do you trust me?” Rosie asked.

Alastor blinked at her. “Why are you asking me this?”

Rosie had her phone out. “I don’t have time to explain, I need to hurry up! You need to kiss Charlie!”

“Wh-what?!”

“Just plant one on her for the camera!”

Alastor was taken aback. He didn’t expect Lucifer to attack him, he didn’t expect Carmilla Carmine to get between them, and he certainly didn’t expect his producer to tell him to kiss Charlie in front of everyone. What the fuck was going on?!

Charlie looked from Rosie to Alastor in panic. Lucifer was still tied up with Carmilla, who was telling him off. She grabbed Alastor by the shoulders and made him look at her. The tables had turned. He looked like a deer in the headlights–like he was the prey, not the hunter. Charlie’s heart did a somersault in her chest. Alastor was out of his element with all this attention and she felt like it was all her fault. She reached up on her tiptoes and gave Alastor a kiss on the cheek.

Rosie clicked the picture. “Not much passion, but it’ll work.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Alastor growled. He turned and faced Charlie, his eyes alight with fiery frustration and renewed determination from Rosie’s sarcasm. He held Charlie by the chin and held her still as he swooped down and gave her a proper kiss on the lips. Despite everything, Charlie couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement when he held her by the chin and claimed her lips.

Rosie took another picture.

They broke apart. “What was that for?” Alastor demanded. Charlie simply stood in his embrace, her head spinning.

Rosie and Vaggie exchanged looks. “Damage control,” they said in unison.

~*~*~*~

BREAKING NEWS

Alastor the Radio Demon and Charlie Morningstar are now a couple! They were spotted sharing a kiss during New Orleans’s first Mardi Gras parade. The picture was taken right before the Carmine Industries float came to a sudden halt and almost caused an accident, sources saying that a man in a glittered mustache jumped in the street and was almost hit. Alastor shared on his official Radio Demon account the picture of him lip-locked with Charlie, with this caption:

Never believed in love stories until now <3

People are losing their minds over Alastor’s official announcement with the Morningstar daughter. After years of solitude and privacy, we finally get a peek inside the Radio Demon’s personal life! And he looks happy! We look forward to seeing how his relationship progresses now with his recent alliance with Lucifer.

–Excerpt from Nola News, local blog community.

“FUCK!” a frustrated, upset voice screamed.

Velvette threw her phone across the room. “We waited too long, Vox! You didn’t send him the money and now it’s too late, Alastor and Charlie went public! There’s no slander, no story! We’ve got nothing!”

Vox rolled his eyes. “That asshole wanted more money than what we agreed! What was I supposed to do?”

Velvette could have choked him. “Gave him the fucking money,” she said through gritted teeth. “This is the last time I help you. You could have broken Alastor, you hear me? You could have ruined them! You waited too long! They figured out we were planning a scandal and they released the news themselves! All for what?”

“For twenty-five dollars,” Vox answered. He waved off Velvette’s theatrics. “This shit was your idea, anyway.” 

Notes:

And there we have it, sinners! :)

Things got a little crazy there at the end lol. I really leaned into my humorous side with the ending (at least I think I did haha) because when I'm dealing with many moving parts, multiple characters, and a lot of chaos, it's easier for me to approach it from a humorous standpoint. Of course when the scene is supposed to be serious it's a different tune, but I felt like comedic relief was welcome after the heaviness of the last two chapters.

Poor Alastor, drunk Rosie had a plan but was her execution as good as it could be??? Probably not lol. Lucifer and Alastor getting smacked around by a very angry Carmilla, Pentious heroically saving her life and then getting told to go away, as well as a truce between Husk and Angel! So much happened in this chapter!

We still don't know WHO took the photos of their date, but we do know it was the Vees who hired them. And ofc Vox is like "I'm not paying an extra $25" and foils the plan LOL

I'll be honest, this was probably one of my favorite chapters to write. I love parades and glitter ✨️

Thank you so much for reading this chaotic chapter, I appreciate the kudos and comments so much!!! <3

Chapter 16

Summary:

The cat is out of the bag on their relationship. How will Charlie and Alastor handle this one?

It had been a long time since Alastor felt like a caged animal. The first time that he remembered clearly was the day his grandmother died and he watched his mother break down and sob on the front porch. He was a young boy back then; not even old enough to drive. All he could do was watch his mother sob and listen to her unrelenting cries from inside the house. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to bring his grandmother back. The young Alastor couldn’t put into words what he felt in that moment, he just knew that he felt like he was jumping out of his skin. This was the first time he discovered true loss.

However, he felt what true loss was really like when he lost his own mother. He understood then how she must have felt all those years ago. He was no longer a young boy; he was a grown man, although he was still so very young. Now, at thirty-three, Alastor wouldn’t consider twenty-years-old to be “grown”, far from it. He really felt grown at the time, and the weight of sadness that washed over him felt nothing like he’d ever felt before.

The helplessness was much worse when his mother died than when his grandmother died. With his grandmother, he knew in the back of his mind that he was the child, that although this was tragic, this was his mother’s cross to bear. Yet, with his mother, it was his cross. It was his loss, his sadness, his life that changed.

The grown Alastor could put into words that the young boy could not. He hated the loss of control. It drove him mad. The feeling of jumping out of his skin was him feeling like a caged animal. Was this as close as he’d come to being like his father, who really was physically caged? Perhaps it was too much of a stretch to compare himself to someone in prison, whether or not that someone was his father. No matter, like for his father, there was nothing that could be done. Not a single thing. His grandmother was dead. His mother was dead. All he could do was live his life and carry on without them.

All he could do was hope he never felt like this ever again. Never, ever again. He would always maintain control.

~*~*~*~

The trapped feeling built inside of him once more. He knew that he needed to get out of there, away from the people, music, talking, and smell of alcohol. “I need to leave,” Alastor stated rather abruptly.

Charlie picked up on his serious tone. The gleam in Alastor’s eyes told her all that she needed to know. He was keeping it together by a thread. “We’ll leave,” she agreed, a bit of panic in her voice. “Rosie, I’ll catch up. Let me put out the fire with dad.”

Rosie nodded in agreement. “Of course.” She took the initiative and gently put her hands on Alastor’s shoulders to guide him towards her car. “C’mon boss, this way.”

The Carmilla Carmine disaster solved itself, thankfully without the intervention of police. Lucifer’s glitter mustache proved to be useful because no one recognized him when he caused the commotion in the street. Lucifer fumed in his spot off the sidewalk, still red in the face.

“Dad,” Charlie said with a low voice so others wouldn’t hear. “I can explain…”

“Him?!” Lucifer nearly screamed. “Out of all the fish in the sea, you choose the ugliest and most decrepit of them all!”

Charlie resisted the urge to stomp her foot in anger. Years of breathing exercises, wasted. It was like she was taken back to her childhood years when she used to be scolded. “He is not ugly!” Charlie screeched.

“He is on the inside!”

“And he’s not decrepit, either! He has very smooth skin and is in impressive shape!”

Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. “And how would you know that, missy?”

Charlie held her ground and met her father’s eyes. “Because I’ve seen his shape!” she hissed defiantly. “Without clothes!”

Lucifer gasped. It resembled the overblown B-rated gasps that porn stars did, Angel would know. Lucifer said the first thing that popped into his head. “Y-y-you’re grounded!”

“What?! I’m a grown woman!”

“And I’m still your father! You’re grounded!”

Angel and Vaggie intervened at that moment. “Sir, I think we all just need to take some deep breaths,” Vaggie said. She put on her therapist voice, the calm and rational tone she used when she talked to patients.

“Why don’t we revisit this over dinner?” Angel suggested.

The father and daughter duo did enjoy the idea of having dinner, even if there was tension. “Fine,” Lucifer said. “Charlie, I’ll pick you up in a few hours.”

“A few hours is like five o’clock, what are we, aiming for the senior special?” Angel asked. He couldn’t help himself. Vaggie elbowed him. “What? Are we trying to be in bed by eight?”

“I’ll pick you up at five,” Lucifer said. There was no room for arguing. “Just you, Charlie.”

“No way, dad. Alastor should come, too.”

“If he—”

Charlie interrupted him. “If we’re going to clear the air and make peace, he has to be there!”

Vaggie and Angel exchanged side-eyes. Very rarely did Charlie Morningstar raise her voice. In the years that they’d known her, this was the third or fourth time she was truly firm with someone. It was a rarity. Charlie meant it, however, the fire in her eyes proof enough.

Lucifer broke their eye contact. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I’m not paying for his meal.”

“Fine,” Charlie snapped. “I’ll pay for his meal. You’re not the only one with money.”

Lucifer sighed. “Okay, fine, I’ll pay for his meal. But I won’t pay for his dessert, do you hear me, Charlotte?”

Charlie fought the urge to smirk in victory. She showed great restraint by doing a simple shrug and flip of her hair. Jokes on you, he doesn’t like dessert!

~*~*~*~

“Hang on, I better check on boss-man.” Husk noticed Rosie shooing Alastor towards the parking lot. It was painfully obvious from Alastor’s body language that he was about to explode, the man was a walking volcano. As much as Husk disliked Alastor at times, he wasn’t about to betray his loyalty to the man who bailed him out of a lot of trouble. This wasn’t about debt anymore.

Husk followed close behind them. Rosie seemed capable of handling this herself but he wanted to linger close by, just in case.

“Did you see his pathetic punches?” Alastor asked his producer. “Quite sad.”

“He certainly tried his best to hit you,” Rosie replied.

Husk smirked. Ah yes, Lucifer attacked Alastor. That was some entertaining drama to watch, probably his favorite part of the parade. Angel held on tight to his arm as the events unfolded right before their eyes. “Whose side are we on?!” Angel had asked Husk with a wicked smile while the chaos unfolded.

Before Husk could answer, the Carmine Industries float came to a halt and Carmilla herself flew off the float. Screams ensued. Husk almost ran out to try and catch her. Almost. Carmilla wasn’t exactly Niffty-sized… she was a tall woman. She’d probably hurt his back. He decided against it.

As it happened, Carmilla did get saved from falling to the asphalt. Pentious displayed a sudden burst of athletic capability and reached her in time. He managed to hold her in what Husk would call “noodle arms” without collapsing.

“I didn’t think the kid had it in him,” Husk said to Angel. He observed the events that happened next like it was a movie playing on a big screen. Vaggie and Rosie seemed panic, they said something to Charlie and Alastor, then Alastor grabbed Charlie and planted a big smooch on her. “I didn’t think he had that in him,” Husk said again to Angel.

Angel shook his head. “I guess this disproves my theory that Alastor kisses like a dead fish.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Unless you’ve kissed someone who kisses like a dead fish, you wouldn’t understand.”

Even as Husk followed Alastor and Rosie down the sidewalk to the parking lot, he tried to figure that one out. Kiss a fish as in the kiss was wet? With spit? Scaly? As in they needed chapstick? Seriously, what the hell. Was this some kind of porn reference?

The radio host and producer made it to the car. Rosie opened the backseat of her car and gestured for Alastor to climb in. “It’s all gonna be fine,” she told him.

“I’m not a child,” Alastor snapped. He got in the car and crossed his arms. “Could you turn on the AC for me?”

Rosie turned her head so she could smirk. She saw Husk had joined them. “Ah, have you come to help console the inconsolable?” she asked.

Alastor poked his head out from the car. Husk had never seen him so… so…. vulnerable before. It made sense, he reasoned, seeing that Alastor was in a public setting surrounded by people, Lucifer put the spotlight on them by the attack, and then with everyone’s attention on them, Rosie ordered Alastor to kiss Charlie. It was a lot to handle, even by Husk’s definition.

“You okay, boss?” Husk asked.

“Peachy,” Alastor replied dismissively. “I appreciate the concern, Husker, but you’re free to go back to the parade.”

“Yeah? Am I free to hangout here, too?”

Alastor gave Husk a look. It started out as suspicious, but he was really looking to see how sincere Husk’s offer was. The two men did have a history together, a very rocky one, but history nonetheless. This was finally the opportunity for the shoe to be on the other foot. Alastor had seen Husk at his worst: drunk, broke, and desperate for cash to avoid jail.

But you know this isn’t his worst, Husk thought to himself with a little prick of concern at the base of his spine. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

“Fine,” Alastor relented. “Rosie, will you tell me and Husker what the fuck all of that was about back there?”

Rosie knew the spotlight would shine on her eventually. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Let’s calm down.”

“We’re calm,” Alastor and Husk said in unison.

“I was talking to myself, thank you very much.” Rosie wished she was slightly more sober for this. “Okay, so when you went on your date with Charlie, someone must have followed you to take pictures for the tabloids. There were pictures of you and Charlie all cuddled up together, which was very cute, I only wish I could have seen them mys—”

“Rosie,” Alastor growled.

She cleared her throat. “Right, another time. Those pictures were texted to Lucifer from an unknown number. As you can imagine, for him to be outside with you two under the impression y’all were just friends, only to see the romantic pictures of you two… he snapped. That’s what lead us to Lucifer attacking you.”

“Trying to attack me,” Alastor corrected. “He never landed a punch.”

“If he had he would have knocked you out. Did you see the strength in that little man? Like Popeye,” Husk muttered.

Alastor resisted the urge to shove Husk. He was in arm’s reach, it was completely doable. Instead, the Radio Demon reminded himself to keep his cool. There would be plenty of opportunities later, best not to waste it on a sarcastic comment from Husker.

“We don’t know who texted Lucifer the pictures?” Alastor asked.

Rosie shook her head. “Unknown number.”

“And we don’t know who was there that night at the jazz club to send the pictures?”

“Not a clue,” Husk replied. He realized that he shouldn’t give away any implications that he was there that night with the crew. “I don’t have a clue, I mean,” he said quickly. “Boss, if we get Lucifer’s phone and get the number that texted him, I can track it. We can find the motherfucker who did this, whether it’s the perp who took the pictures of the perp who hired them.”

Alastor brightened up at this idea. Finally, a means of taking control. “Yes, let’s do that,” he said. “We’ll give him a shakedown.” Alastor grinned and for once, Husk joined in with a grin of his own.

“Alright, enough for now,” Rosie said. “We gotta figure out what our next move is.”

Alastor nodded. “Rosie, fetch Charlie and meet me back at the apartment. Husk, I’ll text you and keep in contact, be ready to rendezvous at my call.”

How is it that this is my third stakeout in ten days, Husk thought to himself. I really am that good, I guess.

“Who says fetch anymore?” Rosie asked.

“I just did. Fetch her, Rosie.” Alastor felt his control come back, just slightly. He had a feeling he’d feel more like himself very soon.

~*~*~*~

Alastor did well. He waited until he was back at his apartment to drink. He had never been happier than to be back home before than this moment. He didn’t waste any time to pour himself a glass of whiskey, throw it back, and pour some more. Oh, Carmilla Carmine thought she was so in control when she yelled at him and Lucifer in the street, didn’t she? She was lucky that Alastor held his tongue; he wasn’t above airing all of her dirty laundry in the street.

Rosie did as he said and fetched Charlie. When the two women stepped through his apartment together, Alastor was buzzed enough to smirk at the irony of it—the only two women who have ever been in his apartment over the years, now inside together with him. What a far cry he was from his old self, who wouldn’t have allowed more than one guest inside his apartment at one time.

“Al!” Charlie cried when she saw him. She bounded towards him and jumped up into his arms. Alastor was strong enough to hold her steady against him while still holding his whiskey in one hand. “I’m sorry about all of this, it’s my fault,” Charlie said with her face buried in his chest.

“You take responsibility for things that aren’t your fault,” Alastor offered, rubbing her back with his free hand. “It’s okay, dear. We’ll handle it.”

Charlie peered up at him with her big eyes, that had tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad at you,” Alastor assured.

“B-but this is my fault!”

“Darling, no it’s not.” Alastor set his whiskey down on the counter and hugged Charlie with both arms. “We’ll handle this mess, alright? Come on now, surely we expected bumps along the way. We’ve got targets on our backs, remember?”

The tears fell freely, but Charlie smiled despite herself. “We’re like Bonnie and Clyde,” she said. Charlie set herself down. “Okay, I need to shower. Dad wants to go to dinner so we can work this out. I told him you were welcome to come, but only if you wanted to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Well, maybe not, but I wanted you to have the option. Look, I know that dad has been pretty ugly about all of this, but he’ll chill out… probably.” Charlie grabbed Alastor’s wrist and looked at the time on his watch. “Shit, I gotta get ready! Dad will pick me up and if you decide to go, you can always drive yourself, that way you can escape early. Just think about it!” Charlie put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss. Part of him was surprised at how demanding she became for kisses. He wouldn’t lie… he liked it. “Okay, be out soon!” Charlie squeaked. She ran to the master bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Rosie stood there with a big grin on her face. Of course she saw the whole thing between them.

“Don’t,” Alastor growled.

“Come on, it’s cute!”

He never wanted to be associated with the word cute again. “Just hurry up and show me the post you made on the Radio Demon account,” he growled.

“Start with pouring a drink,” Rosie said.

“You’ve had plenty to drink!” Alastor snapped.

“I meant for you, jeez. But hell, go ahead and pour one for me, too.” Rosie went into Alastor’s pantry and to see if he had any of those single serving mixed nuts she liked. “Whoa! When did you start buying poptarts?!”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “I bought those for Charlie.”

Rosie came out of the pantry with a poptart foil, eating the treat from the bag. “Aww, you’re buying snacks she likes. How sweet!”

“Rosie, please. I need answers, not to be patronized.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. She held up her phone which had the picture of the two lip-locked and the caption:

Never believed in love stories until now <3

Rosie started giggling. She knew it would only add fuel to the flames, but she couldn’t help herself. She was in that in between stage of tipsy-sober, where she was sober enough to understand what was happening but tipsy enough to think everything was funny. It was amusing to see the Radio Demon’s official social media account post a picture of Alastor and Charlie kissing. And sure, maybe the caption was a bit cheesy. Perhaps it was too sugary sweet. But she had to think of something before someone else posted!

He was not amused by her laughter. “I look like an idiot,” he said, his voice deadpan. “Years of establishing my image, ruined!”

“Oh, hush. You’re so dramatic,” Rosie chided.

“I haven’t even begun to be dramatic! What have you done!” Alastor shouted. He couldn’t believe that there was a picture of him kissing Charlie and it was his page that posted it. What happened to privacy? This was what people would think when they saw the Radio Demon!

“Okay, so maybe I could have been a bit more sober when I wrote the caption,” Rosie admitted. “But do you really think this ruins your image? Come on. If anything, it helps your image. It shows that you’re compassionate, sensitive, that you’re capable of feeling lo—”

“Don’t you say it,” Alastor interrupted with a growl. “I’m not concerned with presenting myself as compassionate and sensitive when I’m the Radio Demon. Just explain to me how the hell this came to be.”

“You know how tabloids are, Al. If someone else had posted the story of you and Charlie on a date, we would have faced severe backlash and the amount of damage control makes my head spin. Just think: Alastor makes alliance with Morningstar before revealing relationship with daughter, biased and lying to you about what he thinks is right for this city. The only reason why the Radio Demon supports Lucifer Morningstar is because he’s hooking up with his daughter, more at 11:00 after the weather!”

Alastor rubbed his temples. Rosie was right, as always. If anyone could spot job hazards it was her, and she could spot them from a mile away. “Okay, I get it. But now we’ve gone and told the world about us.”

“That’s right. Which means we were upfront about the information first. No one can accuse us of hiding the truth.”

“But they can accuse me of being biased and only supporting Lucifer Morningstar because of Charlie.”

“They can try. That’s where you come in, Al. You do what you do best on Monday… argue with them.” Rosie grinned at the mere thought of it. “Oh boy, Al! Aren’t these exciting times? Look how much has changed from when that darling Charlie walked through our doors! You’ve got a girlfriend, a declared enemy with Adam, a shaky alliance with the man you previously thought was your enemy, Lucifer, and now you’ve got poptarts in your pantry! I’m so proud of you! Next time buy blueberry!”

Alastor sighed. That was all he had the energy to do. He leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms. “You’re too optimistic when you’re drunk, Rosie.”

She laughed. “That I am.”

~*~*~*~

Angel told himself there was nothing to worry about. But he knew better, he felt it in his gut as soon as he walked through the studio doors. Valentino wanted him to have drinks with him at the parade and he refused; there would be consequences for such actions.

“You’re in for it,” one of the other actors smirked when he saw him. “You better have had a heart attack or something similar as an excuse.”

Angel didn’t acknowledge his coworker. He kept walking to his dressing room. As soon as the other actors and makeup artists saw him, they packed up their things and started to leave the room. Angel knew what was coming. His entire body shook with anticipation but he steadied himself against his dresser. He needed to have a clear head for this.

In a blink of an eye, Angel was alone in the room.

Then, it was just the two of them.

“Baby…” Valentino crooned. He showed up out of nowhere, the man was light as feathers on his feet when he wanted to be. He shut the door behind him. Just like that, Angel was trapped in the belly of the beast, just like all the other times before this one. Valentino stalked towards him slowly with languid strides. “You didn’t want to be with me today,” Valentino said.

“That’s right,” Angel agreed. He faced Valentino and met his eyes. This wasn’t like the other times where he’d stare at the floor or desperately find a reason to look at his phone. “Do you really have work tonight or did you want to get me alone to punish me?”

“Punish you?” Valentino repeated. “All I do is love and take care of you and you accuse me of punishing you?”

“Don’t play games, Val.”

“You’re the one playing games, baby.”

The flip inside of Valentino switched. He crossed the distance of the room with breakneck speed and was in front of Angel in an instant. He grabbed him by the hips and easily lifted him up on the dresser table, wrapping Angel’s legs around his waist. There were many times they fucked just like this, with Angel at his mercy as he pounded him, and once upon a time Angel would have had butterflies in his stomach from Valentino’s rough hands and demands.

But those days were over, at least for one of them. Angel didn’t feel butterflies, he felt disgust. He felt manipulated. He felt Valentino’s erection press against him and felt vile.

“I don’t want this,” Angel stated.

“I don’t care,” Valentino replied.

“I know you don’t. You never have.”

Valentino grabbed Angel by the chin and forced him to look up at him. “It’s that old fucker you’re hanging out with, isn’t it? I know I’m older than you, but Angel, baby, that man is ancient.” Valentino leaned down to try and kiss him, but Angel fought against his hand and squirmed to avoid his lips. Valentino snarled and smacked Angel across the face. “You ungrateful little fucker! You want me to make you blow me?”

Angel’s heart beat so loud in his ears that he could barely hear. He knew that if was going to make it out of this, he needed to hurry the fuck up. “I can try,” he rasped.

Valentino raised an eyebrow but eased back to undo his zipper. When his hands were on his fly, Angel put as much force as he could into kicking him in the crotch. “FUCKER!” Valentino screeched, his voice three octaves higher from the kick. Without wasting a moment, Angel jumped off the counter and ran to the door. He burst through it, ran down the hallway, and kept running towards the exit. “I’ll kill you for this!” Valentino screamed from the dressing room. “And you better hope you’re alone when I find you, because I’ll kill whoever is with you!”

Angel went through the exit and was in the cold night air. It took six attempts for him to put his key in the ignition because he kept missing it from his shaky hands. He peeled out of the porn studio parking lot and drove somewhere in the night. Where? He had no idea. But he had to get out of there.

This wasn’t like all those other times when he disrespected Valentino. This was a blatant stand against him. This was a career ending move.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Angel asked himself. He was crying as he asked himself this, the tears falling down like waterfalls. He could barely see the road in front of him but he drove like nothing changed. “There goes your fucking job, your fucking career, your fucking safety. Now you can go run to Charlie and ask for help like a good little boy. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck Angel, why couldn’t you just fuck him and think of someone else?”

He needed to go somewhere. He needed to talk to someone. He grit his teeth. He needed someone soon. Before he turned to a substance that never ran from him, that instead welcomed him with its enticing promise of forgetting his problems.

~*~*~*~

“So remind me again why you can’t just ask to see his phone,” Husk said.

Alastor took another drag off his cigarette. He’d need every bit of his nerves calmed if he was going to make it through dinner. “Because even if I did ask him, he’d say no,” he said.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Pretty sure. It’s me, and we all know how much he hates me. Not only that, I don’t want to have to ask him anything because then he’ll feel like he can ask me for things in return. That’s how it starts, Husk.”

The older man shook his head. He wanted to point out that if things went well with Charlie, Alastor would want a good relationship with Lucifer, but that wasn’t his fight. They were outside the restaurant that Charlie said to meet her at, a nice Italian place just outside New Orleans. This was a place Husk wouldn’t go to very often or else he’d go broke. Hell, this was the type of place that the salad alone would cost twenty dollars.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” Husk asked.

“I’ll go inside and sit down. You sit near the bar and keep an eye on us. When Charlie gets up and leaves, we’ll get the phone.”

Husk furrowed his brows together in confusion. “Don’t you mean when Lucifer gets up and leaves his phone at the table?”

Alastor waved his hand and threw his cigarette in the ash tray next to them. “You’ll see what I mean. Just stay alert.”

Husk shrugged. “Sure, boss. You’re paying for my bar drink while I wait. It’s Saturday night, I could be doing a lot of other things.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure your itinerary is quite full between drinking beer and sleeping in your lazy boy,” Alastor sneered. His patience was reserved for the Morningstars only. Without another word, he hastily went through the front doors and inside the restaurant.

Alone in the cold night, Husk released a heavy sigh. “Is napping on my lazy boy so wrong?” he grumbled to himself. “Shit, I’ve earned it.”

~*~*~*~

“There he is!” Charlie exclaimed with glee.

“Oh, isn’t that nice,” Lucifer said with a half smile, half sneer.

Alastor was dressed up for the nice dinner, not as nice as their date at the jazz club, but a close second. He opted for black and gray and left behind his red vest. His hair was still a bit damp from his shower and Charlie smelled his fresh aftershave. She felt a pang in her chest that she couldn’t be as affectionate with him as she longed to be, just like earlier at the parade when she had to put all her energy into hugging Niffty. It really wasn’t fair, especially when Alastor looked so fucking handsome and his face was nice and smooth from a fresh shave. Oh, the things she’d like to do to this man.

Instead, she kept it PG-rated. Charlie gave him a hug and a quick kiss on his cheek. Alastor decided that he’d let Charlie control the affection level, given that this was dinner with her father. He felt the electricity, too. It drove him mad as well, to be unable to ravish her the way he wanted to.

Charlie guided Alastor into the seat next to hers, while Lucifer sat across from them at the booth. “Hello,” Alastor greeted cordially.

“Yes, hello,” Lucifer said back.

“Have you ordered yet?”

“Not yet, just drinks. I got you a whiskey,” Charlie said.

“That’s perfect,” he smiled.

“How often do you drink?” Lucifer asked.

Alastor grabbed one of the menus and glanced down at it. “As often as I like,” he answered. His tone was casual, but his words had fight in them. “I’m sure you drink as well?”

“I think I should start drinking more, given the recent events.”

“Dad!” Charlie exclaimed.

Alastor didn’t miss a beat. “I would think Adam Evans has you more stressed out than me seeing your daughter.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “Why not both?”

“It could be both, but surely Adam is a bigger reason to drink than me.”

“No, because Adam isn’t dating my daughter.”

“Enough!” Charlie cried, clapping her hands together. “You two need to be good. Please. No dating talk. This is business only.”

Alastor shrugged. “Whatever you say, dear. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Charlie faltered at his unexpected compliment. She was bracing herself for being stern and take no shit, two qualities that she really needed to focus to have. Alastor threw her off her game. “Oh, uh, thanks.”

“You always look beautiful,” Lucifer said. “You shine bright like a diamond.”

“Thanks dad.”

~*~*~*~

Lucifer noticed when Alastor ordered the most expensive item on the menu, the rack of lamb. You bastard, he thought to himself. The waitress said she’d put the order in, but the expected wait time for their entrees was twenty or so minutes. That was twenty minutes of nothing but talking, and this was not a dinner where they put aside their differences, instead they made them front and center. Lucifer wondered if by the end of tonight he’d end up back at square one with his daughter—texts months apart, no calls, like two ghosts haunting different houses. He hoped not.

The Morningstar man wasn’t blind to his daughter’s discomfort at the situation. He could hear her nervous laugh from a mile away. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel any guilt about earlier. Sure, he could admit that shoving Alastor into the street during a parade and derailing the float wasn’t his finest moment. He didn’t understand why Charlie liked Alastor, was the issue. Him. Out of everyone in the town, the city, the state, the country, the world, she chose him.

Yet, Lucifer would be lying if he said that he didn’t see any connection between them. He didn’t miss the way his daughter brightened up when she saw Alastor enter the restaurant, or the way Alastor protectively hovered near her during the parade and made sure she stayed on the sidewalk. Maybe the two weren’t lovey-dovey yet, but they cared for each other. That fact alone should make the father proud. And it would… if it were anyone but him.

Lucifer watched Charlie put her hand on the table and Alastor’s eyes follow her hand. He knew if he wasn’t at the table that they would hold hands, just like he used to do with Lilith. It was a bittersweet thought; back in the days when he was still with his wife, and the present day when he sat alone without her. What would Lilith say if she knew about this mess? Wouldn’t she encourage Charlie to follow her heart?

“So, dad…” Charlie began.

“Save it,” Lucifer said. He cleared his throat and took a long drink of his sprite. “I can accept a truce.” He knew he needed to hurry up and get the words out before he changed his mind. “I’m not saying I approve of the relationship, hell, I’m not saying I approve of the man. But I’m willing to keep my eyes and ears open and be willing to be swayed. I won’t just say I disapprove and not give you the chance to show me differently.”

Charlie’s eyes widened in surprise. “D-dad! Really?”

“Of course. Alastor, I apologize for attacking you earlier during the parade. Sometimes things can get quite chaotic in the face of hurricanes and glitter.”

Alastor merely grinned. Lucifer hated it when that man grinned with his teeth showing. “Oh, it’s no trouble. I wouldn’t call earlier an attack.”

“Well, I would. It was an attack.”

“Mhm, no, it wasn’t.”

“I shoved you into the street. I threw punches.”

“They didn’t land.”

“I held back.”

“I don’t think you did.”

Lucifer growled and reached for the breadsticks given to them for appetizers. “Fine, let’s just say I didn’t attack you,” he said.

“You didn’t,” Alastor confirmed.

“Youtackypieceofshhh—fine, yes, I apologize for my attempt at attacking you.”

Alastor shrugged. “I appreciate the apology.”

“And?”

“And?”

“Do you accept my apology?”

Alastor grabbed a breadstick. He took a bite and seemed to mull over his mouthful. Charlie looked at him, then her father, back at her lover, then her father. Finally, Alastor swallowed his bite of food. “Ah, much better,” he said. “Yes, I accept your apology.”

Lucifer wanted to take it all back. He wanted to call Alastor every insult he knew, and he had an Urban Dictionary account, he knew some downright dirty insults. Instead, he curled his hands into fists and kept them under the table. “And I accept yours, thank you. Charlie, darling, sweetie, my precious daughter who lights up my life and exfoliates me like lotion…”

Charlie blushed pink. “Dad, jeez…”

He laughed. “I love you, Charlie! Excuse me for celebrating! About this Adam business, tell me about everything he said to you.”

“Yes, dad, of course. But first, let me go to the ladies room. Just one second, y’all don’t talk to each other if you can’t be nice.” Charlie stood up quickly and put a hand on Alastor’s shoulder. He nodded up at her and gave her a smile that wasn’t nearly as tight as his other ones. “Okay, be back in a jif!” Charlie exclaimed.

Lucifer sat back in his seat and watched her leave. The air turned sour without her presence to keep it sweet. Before he could say anything, let alone have a chance to say anything, one of Charlie’s friends from the center approached their table. It was the older man who frowned a lot. “Evening, sir,” Husk said. “I was hoping you’d let me see your phone if you kept the anonymous number that sent you those pictures. I wanted to track them down.”

Alastor seemed completely taken aback in his seat. “What the fuck,” he muttered.

Husk kept his back to him.

“Well, since you were respectful and asked nicely, sure why not,” Lucifer said. He unlocked his phone and handed it to Husk. “Keep me updated on whoever the perp is, I’d surely like to wring his neck since he messed with my darling daughter,” Lucifer said in a sing-song tune.

“Uh, sure,” Husk replied. “Sorry, I don’t know which icon is your messenger. They’re all ducks.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. I got this app that changed all of my icons to ducks! Very whimsical. The mallard, click the mallard.”

Husk made quick work of getting the number copied from the text messages. He could feel Alastor’s eyes pierce into his back like knives. He didn’t know what elaborate plan Alastor had to embarrass Lucifer, but he could hear their entire conversation from the bar. Lucifer, as far as Husk was concerned, extended an olive branch and Alastor didn’t need to go ruining it for whatever egotistical reason he had.

“Done,” Husk announced. He handed Lucifer back his phone. “I’ll let you know if I have any luck. Well boss, I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll see you after dinner,” Alastor said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t. Charlie will be lonely, won’t she?”

Alastor narrowed his eyes at Husk, although he kept his grin wide. How dare he throw Charlie back at him as an excuse. And what was worse was that he was right, chances were very good that Charlie wouldn’t want to be left alone after dinner. “Fine,” Alastor bit out. “Goodnight, Husker.”

~*~*~*~

Charlie thought the dinner would never end. She was hungrier than she thought and quite enjoyed her ravioli, so at least she got a full belly from everything. The evening progressed better than she anticipated. Lucifer didn’t give his blessing, but at least he was open to it. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to convince him of their relationship over the course of one dinner. The conversation stayed lively enough, and at one point Alastor and her father spoke about the Evans family like they were two gossiping best friends, exchanging secrets and dirt that the other didn’t know. It really was true, the enemy of your enemy was your friend.

“Well Charlie, I’ll see you Monday,” Lucifer said when they got ready to leave their separate ways outside the restaurant. “Do you have your Carmilla Carmine meeting on Monday morning?”

“I do! I’m still a little nervous about it,” Charlie admitted. “Plus, you know, I don’t know if she realized that you were the one in the street today.”

“Oh I doubt it, sweetie, my mustache disguise was on point. There’s no way she’d know it was me.” Lucifer laughed and pulled his daughter into a hug. “Thank you for inviting me out today. I had fun, despite the speed bumps along the way.”

Charlie was never one to refuse a hug. “Thank you for dinner, dad.” She gave him a good squeeze and pulled back. Alastor, who respectfully gave them space, stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Lucifer, I shall see you again when I see you,” Alastor said curtly.

The Morningstar man nodded in agreement. “And when you see me, I’ll see you.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh, I think necessarily.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.”

Charlie clapped her hands together. “Okay! Goodnight dad!” The two lovebirds headed off towards Alastor’s car. When Charlie was sure that her father was out of earshot, she released the biggest sigh of relief she could muster. “Well, I think overall I’d give you a 7.5/10,” she said.

Alastor already felt more like himself when it was just the two of them. “That’s all? I spent hours with that man, Charlotte, hours.”

“You were pedantic at times.”

“That’s just part of my charm.”

Charlie elbowed him in the side. “Puh-lease! You can fool the others, but you’re not fooling me, mister!” she said with a grin. It felt good to be out in the night with Alastor and to finally have him all to herself. She didn’t know what overcame her, but she broke out into a run towards the car.

“Wha-hey! Charlie!”

“Catch me, slow poke!”

He didn’t know what got into that woman, but if a chase is what she wanted, a chase is what she’d get. He waited all day to have her alone and he wasn’t going to let this go easily. Alastor took chase, just as Charlie wanted. She laughed freely into the nighttime and started running diagonally to make it that much harder for him. He was impressed that she was able to run as well as she did given that she wore heels, but he supposed that was one of Charlie Morningstar’s hidden delights. The second before Charlie touched the hood of his car, Alastor snatched her by the back of her shirt and halted her momentum.

“No fair!” Charlie screeched with laughter.

She may have protested with her voice, but her body gladly surrendered. She let herself be pulled into him and crashed into him, their bodies finally meeting together. This was more than a quick hug hello in front of their peers—this was their first embrace when they were finally alone without any spectators. Charlie could finally pour her love and affection into him and she made sure he knew it when she leapt up into his arms and kissed him. Alastor had a very good idea of what she planned to do and was ready to hold her steady in his waiting arms. He met her lips eagerly and they wasted no time to explore each others mouths with playful tongues. They fought for dominance, Alastor winning with no contest, and Charlie mewled into his mouth when he bit her bottom lip in victory.

Charlie started the kiss and she had to break it, too. She broke off of his lips with a loud gasp, gulping down as much air as her lungs could take. Her head spun and her heart hammered in her chest. “Fuck, Al,” she whined. “I want to go back to my place tonight. Please?”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, please. I need to get more clothes and I just want a night with you in my bed, as a switch up.”

It wasn’t ideal, but it was much better than leaving her alone. “Of course,” Alastor agreed. “I better put you down before I fuck you here in the street where someone could see us.” Her eyes nearly bugged out of her skull when he said that. Alastor barked with laughter. “I’m joking!”

She had to look away in embarrassment. “Very funny! Come on, let’s hurry.”

“My, my, my I only received a 7.5 rating, how much reward do I have waiting for me?”

Charlie smirked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

~*~*~*~

This wasn’t his first time in her apartment, let alone his second, but he still felt a strange feeling flutter inside of him when he stepped inside. He supposed this was how it would always be when he retired to a home for the evening that wasn’t his own. Charlie flung her purse on the beanbag chair that had been dragged near the door. “Make yourself at home!” she told him.

Yes, he couldn’t wait to sit on the beat up couch with questionable stains and flip through the streaming services. Alastor allowed himself the luxury of thinking these thoughts because he knew he’d never say them out loud to her. He couldn’t expect everyone to be like him.

“I think I’ll retire to the bed,” Alastor said. He strode down the hallway and to the right. Her bedroom was just as he remembered; a blend of messy but organized chaos, pastel colors, and her smell everywhere. He forgot what it was like to be so drowned in her scent and he liked the idea of going to sleep surrounded by it. There was no telling the last time Charlie was in her room, although she left on her little desk lamp to give the room a soft glow for light. He was out of his comfort zone, but this was doable. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed and loosened his neck collar.

“Hey, I think I’ll shower quickly,” Charlie called from the bathroom. The shower turned on shortly after she said so. He wasn’t sure if this was an invitation or she was simply letting him know. Luckily, Charlie seemed to guess where his mind went. “You can get comfy in bed or join in, it’s up to you!” she giggled.

Alastor smirked. “I’ll have you soon, dear. I’ll get comfy.”

“Suit yourself! Be out soon!”

He was certainly tempted by the idea of having Charlie all to himself in the shower. Again. However, it was a long day for him as well, and he needed the few minutes to gather his thoughts. He felt like there was a lot to think about and catalog in his mind. His main concern was whoever went to take pictures of him at dinner with Charlie. That was more than an issue of privacy, but he was concerned about safety. What if someone followed them here and they know where she lives?

Alastor let his paranoia get the better of him. He stood up and checked Charlie’s curtains, making sure they were good and shut. When he was satisfied with it, he inspected her room much more closely. She had a lot of things, from photographs, to trinkets, jewelry, decorations, and little cat statues. It was pretty obvious that Charlie liked cutesy things.

He took in everything that he saw and slowly walked the length of her room. The last thing to inspect was Charlie’s desk, which also had the lamp on it. He saw her folder that she brought in with her into his office on the day she met him, the one with the stickers that said BUSINESS. He remembered telling her that he liked her stickers and she didn’t pick up on his subtle sarcasm. Alastor smirked at the memory; now, he really did like her stickers. He was about to head back to the bed when he saw the book that was next to her business folder:

Daily Journal and Calendar.

Interesting, Alastor thought. He knew snooping was bad. Of course it was bad. Oh, but what temptations lay before him—an opportunity to glance inside and see Charlie’s inner thoughts. Did she write anything about him? Does she write about him?

This was Pandora’s Box. This was wrong, and if the tables were turned, he couldn’t imagine that he’d be pleased to find Charlie reading his diary. He couldn’t help but snort at that reasoning—as if he’d keep a diary.

Alastor couldn’t stop looking at it. It was a pink journal with white letters and there was a ballpoint pen next to it with the cap missing. When was the last time she wrote in it? He listened for the shower; it was still running.

“You’re going to hell,” he muttered. He opened the journal.

Thursday.

I can’t calm down. I just had my first meeting with Alastor and it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever had to do in my life! Scarier than the Swan Princess play! Luckily I didn’t throw up. I don’t think I could have even if I’d wanted to, I knew not to eat lunch. I’m starving now, though. The Radio Demon was so intimidating, he’s so well-spoken, collected, calm, and just… uh! The complete opposite of me. Rosie was sweet. Alastor wanted me to tell his callers that I was Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter. I disagreed. He made good points, but in the end, he doesn’t really believe in my project. I think he just wants an opportunity for his views to go up. I shouldn’t have expected any different from him. And I hate the fact that he’s so fucking handsome. Seriously! Does he know how hot he is?!

Alastor’s grin couldn’t get any wider. “Oh my darling girl, if you only knew how much you scared me,” he said. He turned the page and skimmed to the next section.

Sunday.

Alastor helped us out all day on Saturday. I thought it was going to be a disaster but it proved to be the exact opposite! The others seem to like him just fine, except Vaggie, but Vaggie doesn’t count. I was so nervous around him all day. I spilled coffee on myself like the idiot I am and Alastor gave me his handkerchief after he wiped the coffee off my face. I’ve never felt so on fire before. It’s silly, because I’m pretty sure the Radio Demon doesn’t like to be touched, and I’m like 97% sure he’s not interested in dating because I can’t find anything on his past relationships. So I should really get a grip and stop the butterflies whenever he touches me because it’s not intentional, I’m sure, and even if it was, it’s meaningless. I mean we met two days ago, why would he like me? I’m Lucifer's daughter, he hates dad, and he thinks my project is silly. Right? So there’s no logical reason why he would like me. And so what if he’s called me darling a few times!

ALASTOR KISSED ME HOLY SHIT AND THEN SOMEONE THREW A BRICK AT THE BUILDING AND I THOUGHT HUSK DIED BUT IT WAS JUST A CRAMP!!!!!!

I cannot stop thinking about Alastor’s kiss. He had no right to be so fucking good at it. He’s gotta have a secret past, something! Or he just kissed his pillow? Isn’t that what boys do to practice? Every time I think about it I get dizzy. God, Charlie, you’re such an idiot to fall this hard and this fast and get a crush on the guy who’s literally the Radio Demon but fuck, he’s not so bad. I don’t think he’s bad at all. I think he’s sweet. I think there’s more to him than he lets on. If he can kiss that good I wonder how good he can f—

Alastor shut the journal. He felt amped up on adrenaline, it coursed through his veins. He knew it was wrong to snoop, and he’d fess up to it, later. But for now, he had to get his pent up energy out. He was in disbelief even though he read the journal with his own eyes. Charlie liked him from the beginning. She was a bit intimidated and unsure of him but it didn’t stop her from running away from him.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror of her vanity. Truthfully, he didn’t see what she saw in him. He didn’t recognize the face of the man who looked back at him. The expression of someone who looked… happy? The corners of his mouth were upturned and he found that he was trying not to grin. Not his Radio Demon grin, but his real one, his authentic smile.

The door opened and Charlie padded inside the room. He saw her in the reflection and turned around to face her. She wore a white nightgown with pink hearts printed on it. “Hey,” she greeted. Alastor moved towards her so quickly that she squeaked in surprise when he picked her up and tossed her on the bed. “Al!” Charlie giggled. “I’m not a sack of potat—”

He silenced her with a ferocious kiss. Alastor claimed her mouth and drank her in, all while putting all of his weight on top of her and pinning her helplessly into her bed. She surrendered to him and he drank up her moans. His tongue ran over the silk smoothness of her mouth, over her lips, and finally tangled with her own. She needed to breathe before him and she pushed him back and gasped for breath. Drool dribbled down her chin, a mixture of their combined saliva from his onslaught. Alastor moved on and nibbled her chin, down her jawline, and finally settled on her neck. He licked her exposed skin as the only warning before he bit it. She gasped out in surprise and her hands flew to his shoulders to anchor herself as Alastor tasted her salty, sweet skin. He didn’t bite hard enough to break the skin, although the thought of tasting her blood made all of his run south.

Alastor hovered his face above her own. “You don’t have to worry about anything,” he told her, his voice hoarse as he whispered. “I’ll take care of you, Charlie.”

She eyed him. She tried to figure out what got into him, if her father had said something, what had happened. The gleam in Alastor’s dark eyes were unmistakable. A mixture of lust and conviction. “Al…” Charlie whispered. She cupped his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned into her hand and accepted the gesture. “I’ll take care of you, too.”

Charlie seized her opportunity when she saw it. She slid out from under him and turned him over on his back so it was her who was on top. Alastor allowed it to happen, she knew it, because there was no universe where she’d have the strength to actually flip him over on his back on her own. Alastor grinned when his back hit the bed and Charlie crawled on top of him. “Oh? What kind of ideas are going through your head?”

“Naughty ones,” Charlie grinned. She lowered down and kissed his exposed chest from when he loosened his dress shirt earlier. She felt his erection press between her legs. She almost didn’t put on panties but decided to do so just in case. Now she wished she hadn’t. Charlie kissed her way down his torso until she was eye level with his belt buckle. “Are you okay with this?” she asked, looking up at him.

He stared down at her with a look of enchantment. “Fuck, yes,” he growled. “But you better hurry up, because after it’ll be my turn.”

“Good things take time.” Alastor chuckled at that and Charlie undid his belt. His erection sprang free and she gripped the base of his cock in one hand and held it steady as she gave it a long lick. He cussed some more and gripped the bed sheets on either side of him. “I’ve been waiting to show you this trick,” Charlie grinned. “I think you’ll really like it.”

Before Charlie could show him, there was a loud slam. It was the front door. Angel was home. Neither of them had a chance to react before there was a loud knock at the bedroom door and it swung open.

“CHARLIE!” Angel cried, absolutely drunk. “I need you! I quit my job, I’m done with Val, and I hate myself!”

WHUMP!

As Angel opened the bedroom door, Charlie went into panic mode. She didn’t want Angel to see Alastor with his dick out, in fact, she didn’t want Angel seeing Alastor at all. But in that millisecond of time that she had to react, the only thing Charlie could think to do was get to the side of Alastor and push him off the bed.

So she did just that.

She pushed him off the bed that was opposite of the door, so when Angel opened the door a crying mess, he only saw Charlie slumped up on her bed. He started crying and wailing, drunk and hopeless, and Charlie being the person she was, didn’t tell him to go away. “Oh, Angel, it’s okay!” she soothed.

He ran into her arms. “I’m sorry, toots! You’re probably up waiting for Alastor to come over, huh?”

“Ummmmmmmmm something like that, yeaaaaah.”

From under the bed, Alastor grit his teeth and pulled up his pants. They really should have gone to his apartment.

Notes:

IT. IS. DONE.

This was a very tough chapter and update because I had obstacles that I didn't foresee. First of all, I got sick. That was unfortunate for me, lol I fevered for two days and curled up in blankets and was quite pathetic xD Then, once I felt a bit better, guess what? HURRICANE FRANCINE HIT, BABY. Which was fine, hahahahaha, it's fine, but it knocked out my internet for a day and a half and I was like "grrrr" lol. Thankfully no property damage other than my fence falling over, but that in the grand scheme of things is no big deal.

I didn't have a chance to really get into this chapter like I wanted to, but the next chapters moving forward will have more plot points to them! I'm just grateful that I finished it and I'm still going strong with the updates, I've never in my life been this consistent with anything hahaha.

My only comment on the chapter is I love how unapologetic Rosie is for her status about Alastor and Charlie. She's just like "heehee oops oh well" lmaooooo

Also Alastor had some grand scheme of getting the phone from Lucifer and Husk was just like "Nope I'm too old for this may I have the phone, sir?" xD

Thank you for the continued love and support, I appreciate y'all so much!

Chapter 17

Summary:

Angel cut ties with Valentino, but is it permanent? Charlie's meeting with Carmilla Carmine.

Charlie felt like she wanted to pass out, not for the first time, and certainly not the last. It was Monday morning and a beautiful one at that, with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight. Usually Charlie would be at the cafe for her morning shift, but she was given an afternoon shift today because of her meeting with Carmilla Carmine.

The Carmine Industries factory was huge. Charlie had never been there before, never even drove past it. Truthfully, she was bit intimidated of it and the idea that this big warehouse produced firearms and dangerous weapons. Charlie wasn’t one for guns or shooting, let alone weapons in general. She supposed it was the pacifist in her. Her father tried to take her shooting at the gun range when she was younger, she didn’t enjoy it. Lucifer tried to teach her the importance of knowing how guns worked in case she ever got in a situation, but Charlie just couldn’t stomach it. Lilith suggested she take a few self-defense classes instead, which was much more Charlie’s speed. She knew how to palm strike to the nose and run away if she needed to.

The Morningstar woman wasn’t looking forward to the meeting, although she knew it would be a game changer if she got Carmilla’s backing on her project. Carmilla was quite the philanthropist. She donated to many organizations in the city, so why not Charlie’s project? If she could get Carmilla’s support, there’s no telling how many doors that would open to other big names in the city to donate. Charlie didn’t think she needed much—she knew there was a long way to go—but she knew as soon as she got the ball rolling, the vision would come together. She didn’t forget what Alastor had told her about Adam Evans; she had roughly a month to get her organization up and running before they announced who the mayor was. If Adam was mayor and tried to take her down when it was already established, it would be much harder for him.

“But that’s if he wins!” Charlie chirped to herself. She lightly smacked her cheeks to try and snap herself out of it. “Dad will win. He will.”

Is it really better for him if he does? Can he handle the work?

She was surprised by that thought. Why wouldn’t Lucifer be able to handle the work? This was his job! Of course he could handle it. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

“Sorry I’m late!” a new, welcome voice exclaimed. Vaggie came into the office waiting room, looking a bit flustered herself. She took the later shift at work to be there for Charlie. She sat down next to her best friend and released a heavy sigh. “Morning traffic, it’s the worst. How did you get here?”

“Dad’s security drove me.”

“Right, yeah, nice. So they’re pretty much at your disposal now, huh? No more taking the bus?”

Charlie shrugged. She really hadn’t put much thought into it. “I suppose, yeah. I should probably send them some thank you flowers, huh?”

Vaggie chuckled. “Char, that’s their job. They’re getting paid.”

“Well yeah, but it must cost them gas and wear and tear on their vehicles to take me back and forth…”

“They’re not just your drivers, they’re security, too. It’s fine. I’m glad you’ve had them.” Vaggie sat back and checked the time on her phone. Five minutes until the meeting began and they would be called back to Carmilla’s office. “Okay Charlie, spill… what the fuck happened with Angel?”

At least Vaggie’s question distracted Charlie from the meeting. However, she hopped from one anxiety to another, and the one with Angel snowballed into a much bigger drama than she would have thought. “Oh man,” Charlie groaned, putting her hands on her face. At this point she didn’t care if she smudged her makeup or not. “It’s a disaster, Vags.”

“Catch me up, we don’t have much time.”

“Okay, so Angel quit his job. Like quit-quit, for real this time. And as you can imagine, Valentino didn’t take that very well. He told Angel that he would kill him and whoever he was with the next time he found him. So Angel comes back to the apartment drunk the other night, but like I’m not mad because at least he came home and not to a club to get fucked up. But he comes home, starts crying, I start crying, everything is very tense, and Angel tells me what happened. And, haha, it just so happens that Alastor is there, too, because uh he went home with me. When Alastor heard what Angel said about Valentino…”

Charlie trailed off. She recalled it vividly; Alastor fiercely taking control of the situation. He was mad. No, not mad. Furious. Charlie had to practically hold him down so he didn’t go out and try to find Valentino himself.

“What happened?” Vaggie demanded.

“Sorry, right. Alastor freaked out and said that we needed to leave the apartment because Valentino might know where we live. And he’s kinda right, Angel has worked for Val for awhile, and Angel was too drunk to remember if Val had his address in his records or not. But this is Valentino, if he wanted to, he could find out. So all of yesterday was spent getting my stuff and Angel’s stuff out of the apartment. Alastor was incredible, he spoke to the property manager and convinced him to agree for us to break the lease without consequence!”

Vaggie made a face. “Were you there for that conversation?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if by convince, Alastor actually threatened.”

“Well, whatever he did, he got results! So Angel is staying with Niffty and I’m, uh, staying with Alastor. The majority of my stuff went to dad’s house. My head is still reeling from it all, Vags. Like, there goes my apartment. But like, as upset as I am, this is such great progress for Angel, he’s finally away from Val. I know he’s probably reeling from all of this, and he feels bad that he dragged me down with him, but I’d live in a cardboard box with him if it meant that he was free from Val!”

Vaggie couldn’t help but smile at Charlie’s conviction. If it were anyone else, they would be upset about the sudden whiplash that their life took. This was no small matter, Charlie and Angel had to leave their apartment out of caution for Angel’s very vindictive ex-boss. It didn’t stop there, either. Valentino had eyes and ears in the city, Angel had to be careful. All of them did. It wasn’t just Adam Evans putting a target on their back. It seemed their ragtag group was quickly racking up enemies.

“You’re really okay with this?” Vaggie asked.

“Well yeah, anything to keep Angel safe.”

Vaggie knew that this wouldn’t have happened without Alastor’s involvement. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was right to take action when he did. Vaggie could imagine why Alastor was there that night at the apartment with Charlie, but that was besides the point. It seemed that her initial apprehensions about him were being disproved one by one.

“We’ll get through this,” Vaggie said quietly. “I’ll check up on Angel. I’ve seen Niffty’s apartment, he should be fine there.” It was certainly more ideal than him shacking up with her.

Charlie nodded. “Thanks, Vaggie. I just need this meeting to go well. Hopefully Carmilla didn’t recognize that it was dad out there in the parade on Saturday.”

Before Vaggie could reply, the receptionist announced, “She’ll see you now, Miss Morningstar.”

“Are you coming?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, uh, I don’t think she’d let me,” Vaggie stammered. “You should go. Show her that you’re strong, ready, and not willing to take no as an answer.”

“But she can say no, if she wants to.”

“She won’t want to after you’re done convincing her.”

“Right, yes, good point.” Charlie sighed and stood up from her seat. Please don’t let me make a fool of myself…

~*~*~*~

Alastor missed his studio. It was familiarity, it was a close second to his home, it was the place he spent his working hours in. The chair, the desk, the ashtray, the headphones, the little coffeemaker, all of it. This was his domain, and he missed it dearly.

He didn’t forget what Rosie told him about taking the narrative on Monday and doing what he did best with the callers and arguing with them. He was so giddy with the idea of getting into fights with his callers that he had a hard time falling asleep last night. It was distraction enough with Charlie’s sleeping body next to his. He could get used to having her next to him every night; the problem was if his desire to not sleep with her next to him would ever dull. Alastor giddily hoped that it wouldn’t. He didn’t think so. The choke hold that golden haired vixen had on him was too strong.

Charlie was a distracting thought. If he thought about Charlie, he’d think about her safety, and that would lead him to thinking about taking care of Valentino himself. What a bothersome pimp that man was. Alastor didn’t doubt that whatever threats Valentino gave Angel was just him being spurned in the heat of passion, but that was a risk he was unwilling to take, especially when it involved Charlie. He knew he didn’t have to worry too much, given that Charlie had Lucifer’s security at her disposal. He made her promise to use it and to not roam around the city alone without them.

This couldn’t last, however. Perhaps it was the pessimist in him, but he was inclined to think it was the realist. Charlie and her friends couldn’t walk on eggshells in their own city because of people like Valentino and Adam Evans. They deserved freedom. Alastor knew he had to do everything in his power to make sure that they had it. He was fiercely ready to protect Charlie at the drop of a hat—he’d kill for her, he knew he would. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d happily go to hell for her. But as much as Alastor relished in the idea of being her protector, he knew deep down that it wasn’t the right thing. Charlie was a strong, capable woman. She could stand on her own, shoulder-to-shoulder with him instead of in his shadow. She may not realize it yet, but the potential was there.

He’d seen the fire in her before. The passion she had for her project, the complete determination in everything she did. No one had to tell Charlie to work hard, she did it herself. Alastor admired that about her.

“Well, well, well,” Rosie said, entering into the studio. She held a Starbucks cup. Alastor wondered how much money she gave that place on a weekly basis. Rosie walked past Alastor and went into her office. “Well, well, well…”

Alastor looked up from his notes. “Yes, Rosie?”

She plopped down in her office chair. “Nothing, I’m just saying ‘well’ until I figure out what I’m doing with my life.” She took a louder than necessary sip of her coffee. “How did Charlie’s meeting go with Carmine? Did we get the green light?”

“She said she’d tell me about it later.”

“Uh-oh, so she said no?”

“No, she said she’d tell me about it later.”

Rosie shook her head. “That’s usually code for ‘I don’t want to talk about it right now but it sucked’,” she said. “You should get all your aggression out today so you can go home and be sweet.”

“Rosie, I’ll have you know that I have been nothing but sweet to her since day one. In fact, I’ve only gotten sweeter.” Alastor was annoyed. He supposed it was better to be annoyed than thinking about Valentino. “That pimp is causing problems. Angel and Charlie moved out of their apartment yesterday, Charlie is staying with me. I can’t have her or her friends tip-toeing around the city afraid for their lives.”

She knew that this was serious, no longer time for teasing. “Vox runs in the same circle as Val. You should talk to him.”

Alastor laughed. It sounded like a bark, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Oh sure! And then Vox and I will go get lunch and get our nails done while we talk about the latest gossip!”

Rosie wasn’t amused by his sarcasm. “He might help if it’s serious,” she said.

“Come on, you know better. Vox hates me. He’s not going to help or assist me in any capacity. In fact, if I asked him to help reign Valentino in, he’ll just tell Valentino to up his antics.” Alastor huffed and reached for a cigarette. He needed nicotine after such a ridiculous suggestion.

~*~*~*~

“Take a seat,” Carmilla commanded. Charlie was lead down a hallway by the assistant and let inside Carmilla’s personal office. Charlie started to sit on one of the three available seats placed before her desk. “Not there.”

Charlie nearly fell over when she stopped her momentum from sitting down. “Uh, which chair is best?”

Carmilla peered down at her. She peered down at most people given her impressive height. “I wasn’t speaking to you,” she said, pointing to the earbud in her left ear. Charlie didn’t see it at first because of her hair.

“Oh-uh, should I sit?” she asked.

“Yes, I told you to take a seat,” Carmilla nearly snapped. “Yes, tell them I need the invoices done by Tuesday morning or they’re fired. I’m done hearing excuses.” Carmilla took out her earbud and ended her phone call. “Well, I see you had fun at the parade on Saturday.”

Charlie wanted to crawl under a rock and die. “I uh, yeah, listen I’m so sor—”

“Drunk fools at those types of events but my company is signed up for the float participation,” Carmilla grumbled. “This is the first year I’ve ever come close to breaking my neck, I’ll say that much. Tell me, what was your boyfriend doing out there with that strange mustache man?”

She doesn’t know it was dad, Charlie thought. What luck!

“I don’t know, that mustache man just attacked him out of nowhere,” Charlie lied. Yes, she knew it was wrong to lie, but white lies every once in awhile were no big deal. She only allowed herself three white lies a month. This was white lie number two.

“Hmm,” Carmilla hummed. “Well, let’s not waste time. I know why you’re here, you want my money.”

She’s so blunt and scary, jeez, Charlie thought. She cleared her throat. “I want to explain my organization to you, ma’am.”

Carmilla raised an uncertain eyebrow. “I know what your programs are about, there have been many like yours before you. Especially from your father.”

“Dad never tried to open a rehabilitation center.”

“Oh, he did. I’m surprised he didn’t give you any pointers about the do’s and don’ts, he would know,” Carmilla answered. She texted as she did so and pulled up a few emails on her work computer. “Lucifer doesn’t like to talk about it because it was a failure, but I have to give the man credit, he did it back when we had much less laws in place and it was much more a hazard. In this day and age, there are enough procedures and laws to keep everyone in check. He lost funding from the city and when the city pulled out, so did his financial backers.”

Charlie felt her skin crawl. This was information she should have known about her father, why was she just learning about this? Sure, she knew that Lucifer had failures in his career, you didn’t get to be where he is without setbacks. But she didn’t know that he actually tried to start his own rehabilitation. She’d have to look further into that.

Focus, Charlie, she reminded herself. She put her arms on the arm rests beside her and leaned forward. “Mrs. Carmine, I know backing me and my program comes with reservations. I’m politically behind my father while he runs for mayor. I’m actively against Adam Evans and everything he stands for. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m uh… y’know… romantically involved with Alastor the Radio Demon.” She could have sworn that she saw Carmilla smirk when she mentioned Alastor. She steeled herself and kept speaking, “But this project is mine, it has nothing to do with any of them. This rehab project is my vision. I have a plan of action with me in my folder where I break down the function of the program, how the city and private funding would benefit the program and in turn, benefit the city. My only goal is to help the people of my city, Mrs. Carmine. I’m not interested in politics.”

Carmilla was definitely smirking at her, it was obvious by the way she narrowed her eyes. “Oh, but Miss Morningstar, it seems that politics are interested in you.”

“I’m not looking for a fight with anyone.”

“Whether you’re looking or not, there’s one at your door. Question is, what are you willing to do about it? This city isn’t going to bet on a losing horse, Charlie. And if Adam Evans wins, why would we give money to an organization that he’s going to shut down?”

“Why would he shut me down to begin with? This is personal for him! This is him being vindictive! Adam Evans has no reason to shut my program down other than a personal vendetta he’s got against my family!” Charlie exclaimed. She was partly surprised by the anger that blossomed inside of her. This was good, it was better to get angry than cry. Carmilla didn’t seem like the type to hand her a tissue.

Carmilla shrugged and put her phone down for the first time since Charlie walked in. “That’s what happens when your dad and Adam fight for the same woman,” she said. “Sorry to tell you, Charlie, but you would have had family drama follow you no matter what.”

“What are you talking about? Who’s the woman?”

“Oh Charlotte, don’t act so dense. Like you didn’t know that your mother dated Adam before she married your father.”

“SHE DID WHAT?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. She hit the red button on her phone. “Send us in two cups of coffee,” she ordered her assistant. Within thirty seconds, the assistant set down two hot mugs of coffee with a tray of cream and sugar. Carmilla didn’t say thank you and the assistant closed the door behind her. Charlie was still in shock, but she was able to speak once more.

“I-uh-I… I didn’t know that,” she said.

“Oh yeah, it was a hot topic back then,” Carmilla said slyly. “I’ve known your parents for awhile now, Charlie. I’ve known that son-of-a-bitch Adam awhile, too. If you ask me who I’m voting for, I can honestly tell you that it doesn’t mean much for me. I’m established in my career, Carmine Industries isn’t going anywhere no matter who is in office. But if you want to know who I prefer on a personal level, that’s a tough answer. Your father is a good leader, but he can be weak at times. Adam is an asshole, through and through, but he’s got enough family ties and firepower to his name to get shit done, you just have to hope you’re on his good side. I can emphasize with the fact that you’ll never ever be on his good side, Charlie.”

Carmilla drank her coffee black, just like she did at the diner. She sat back in her seat and seemed deep in thought as she sipped her hot beverage. Her eyes burned into Charlie.

“Did you know about Adam’s little project he announced if he won as mayor? Project Heaven. It’s a rehab center.”

“Adam wants to start his own rehabilitation center?”

“Well, more like it’s a place he sends people and they get extensive counseling and then get kicked out the door. It’s not trying to correct any problems, just catch it early enough for the people who are thinking of going down a path of addiction. He’s got it on his website, you really should read about it.”

“That doesn’t solve any of the existing problems we have in this city. What about the people who are already struggling with addiction?”

“It seems that’s none of his concern.”

Charlie felt like she would pass out. Her head spun with so many questions, and all of them were for her father. His own personal rehabilitation center? Her mother dated Adam before marrying Lucifer? What other skeletons were in the Morningstar closet that Carmilla Carmine would uncover?

Carmilla waited for Charlie to say something. The ball was in her court and it was her turn to speak. This was it: this was the moment that would make or break her. Carmilla wasn’t going to give this to her, this was something she had to earn.

Charlie curled her hands into fists. “I will not let my success depend on a man as vile as Adam Evans,” Charlie uttered. Not a single stutter or stammer. “I’ve worked my whole life for this, and I’m not going to let anything that my parents have done to stop me. They may slow me down, but they won’t stop me. If my rehab center gets shut down like my dad’s, I’ll try again. And again, and again, until my last breath, because this is my vision and my dream and I’m not giving up. You can fund me if you’d like. I’m sure it makes no difference to you whether you do or not. But it does make a difference, Mrs. Carmine. To the people of this city who don’t have resources or money or help. They’re the ones we do this for. I’m trying to give these people help. I understand if you find my project to be a liability… but I’ll never stop wanting to help these people, as long as they need it.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Charlie took the opportunity to dunk a few teaspoons in her sugar and down her coffee. It was admittedly a bad idea given that she was already lightheaded, but she’d be damned if she let herself drink black coffee.

Carmilla tilted her head to one side and regarded the Morningstar woman. “You really care about those people, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you get out of all of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t exactly a career that pays bills, let alone house mortgages. Although, I suppose if you’re lucky, Alastor makes a decent enough living.”

“This isn’t about money. This is about helping those in need. I’m tired of seeing those who have money and those who are poor without any bridge between them. This city doesn’t have any community. I know it’s easy to write these people off as bums and lost causes and say they’re dangerous and crackheads…. Believe me, I know, I’ve been hearing it for awhile now. But someone has to believe in them. We can’t all turn our backs on them. Someone has to lend a hand.”

“And that someone is you?”

“Yes. Me and my friends, who have given me their time and support. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.”

“Well… that’s cute, Charlie.” Carmilla set down her coffee mug. She sighed and lightly shook her head. “You’re determined, I can see that. I don’t think there’s anything I could say to you to deter you. That’s good, you’ve got conviction. To a fault, but that’s besides the point.” Carmilla smiled; it was a tight one, but a smile. “I’ll take a chance on you. You have my funding. I’m curious to see how the board will handle you. I run a charity ball, I have one due at the end of this month. If you come to it, you can pitch your program to me and the other board members. If you thought I was a tough crowd, just wait. Zestial hates attention, and I don’t think you can avoid attention given who your father and… shall I say lover is.”

Charlie immediately flushed. Did she really just call Alastor her lover?

“So I’m… invited to this charity ball?” Charlie asked.

“Yes. Try to read up on Adam’s Project Heaven, you’ll need to know what you’re going up against.”

“Can I bring a plus one?”

“Just say Alastor, dear, we all know who you’d bring.”

“Um…”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Yes, he may come. Now scram, I’ve got a ten o’clock meeting. My assistant will be in touch with the details.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Carmine! I can’t begin to describe how much this means to me!”

“Please save your breath and don’t describe anything. Goodbye.”

~*~*~*~

When the on-air sign turned on, it was as if someone blew an air horn before a race. Alastor was off.

“Good evening sinners, this is your ever-dandy Radio Demon! It feels like it’s been awhile, the longest forty-eight weekend hours of my life, if I do say so myself. There’s a lot to discuss and address and I look forward to setting the record straight. Let’s start with the post that my page made, you know the one I’m talking about, the one where I’m lip-locked with a beautiful lady, if I do say so myself. That caption idea came from the brilliant mind of my producer, Rosie, whose brilliant ideas are sometimes less brilliant with the use of alcohol. But you’ll hear it from me first and foremost, sinners: I’m dating Charlie Morningstar. I’m not interested in divulging intimate details about our relationship, but I’d be an absolute fool to deny or ignore that she is in fact mine.”

From her producer seat, Rosie couldn’t help but smirk to herself as she popped a piece of candy in her mouth. Look at Alastor, staking his claim on the Morningstar woman.

“Today,” Alastor continued. “I’d like to talk about Adam Evans. I’m not deaf and blind over the weekend, I know what he says about me at his press conferences. And let’s get something clear out of the way now, sinners: I’m well aware that I’m going to be accused of bias towards Lucifer Morningstar given that I’m dating his daughter, Charlie. We’ll address that during the call section of this show, hell, I’ll address it every single day I have a show if that’s what happens. I have nothing to hide. The simple fact of the matter is that I do what I want when I want to. The end. I’ve never in my life done anything I haven’t wanted to do. I don’t plan on starting now! But you know who does have things to hide? Adam Evans. Let’s talk about his family’s property tax evasions, which is public record, by the way! How is it that an entire family is able to exempt themselves from paying taxes while the rest of us have to, yet, the Adams family manages to buy new properties at the drop of a dime? Very curious!”

Rosie chuckled. Her mic was muted, she could afford to make noise. “Ooh, he’s going for blood now.” Today was an important day, it was the day that the Radio Demon went after Adam Evans. Until today, minimal shots had been fired. Now, Alastor was very interested in taking down Adam and staking his claim against him. He embraced him as an enemy in a way that he never did with Lucifer before. Part of Rosie wanted to see how vindictive Alastor could get—Adam sure as hell deserved it.

The hour was already over halfway done and Alastor only picked up momentum, he didn’t slow down. Rosie turned her mic on and spoke on the show, “It’s that time again, we’ve got callers lined up and ready to go.”

“Excellent,” Alastor said with a grin. The arguing could really begin. “Release the wolves, Rosie.”

“This caller is Tom from Metairie, you’re on the air, Tom.”

“Hey,” the man’s voice said on the air. “So are you like buddy-buddy with Lucifer now? It just seems very suspicious that you spent all these years talking smack and now you’re involved with the guys daughter?”

“Well first of all, Lucifer’s daughter is named Charlie and she’s her own woman with her own opinions,” Alastor began. “And no, I wouldn’t call us buddy-buddy, I think it’ll be a long time for that to happen, if it ever does.”

“Why date his daughter?”

“Ah, have you ever heard the expression ‘the heart wants what the heart wants’? I have come to understand that there’s a lot of truth in it. Next caller, Rosie.”

Rosie said, “This is Tyler, Tyler you’re on the air.”

“Wassup,” a young man’s voice said. “So when you beat Adam’s ass on Vox News, was that because of Charlie? I wanna know what that was about. Do you think you’ll fight him again?”

Alastor grinned. “I’ve never been one to run from a fight, Tyler.”

“Word. You should go around and beat everyone’s ass for television.”

“That is certainly an idea. Rosie.”

The producer almost laughed on air. “Right, this is Diana from the city on the air. Diana, say hello.”

“Hello,” the woman’s voice said. “I think you and Charlie are so cute together! I’ve only seen pictures of her. Is Charlie really as pretty in real life?”

Rosie didn’t want to miss looking at Alastor and peeked at him from her seat. Even secluded in his chair, Alastor blushed a light pink that contrasted starkly against his darker skin. He cleared his throat. “More than pretty, Diana. She’s beautiful.”

Proud of you, Al, Rosie thought with a satisfied smile.

~*~*~*~

Angel didn’t do well with change. He promised himself that he’d work on being more adaptable, but so far the only change he’d adapted was eating his rice and beans at the Mexican food restaurant. It took Vaggie six years to convince him that the sides were worth eating.

He supposed that if he was better at adapting to change that he would have left Valentino a long time ago. This was his first time putting his foot down and actually leaving him, instead of passive-aggressively leaving him on read or blocking his number for a few days. Not that those little incidents ever ended up going his way—Valentino would find him. He always found him in the end.

Now, if Val found him, he was a goner. Dead. Angel didn’t doubt for a second that Valentino had every intention of carrying out that threat after he realized that he really lost him. Fuck Val, fuck the debt, it wasn’t legal anyway. The debt can be forgiven after the hundreds of shifts Angel worked without a break.

For now, he knew that he had to lay low at Niffty’s apartment. As much as he missed living in his place, he knew that Alastor had a fair point that Valentino could find him at his address. The last thing Angel wanted was to put any of his friends in danger. He’d be damned if Charlie of all people were with him when Valentino did figure out his address. Still, Angel couldn’t help but feel like all of this was his fault. Maybe if he had sucked it up and sucked something else, they could have had more time to plan and make an escape. When was the lease up? July? Could he have held out another few or so months?

No. He couldn’t have. And deep down he knew that Charlie wouldn’t have wanted him to.

Niffty’s apartment wasn’t so bad. She didn’t have the place very furnished to begin with and Angel took a good bulk of his stuff with him. Niffty wasn’t his first choice to live with, but she was very kind to let him crash with her. She spent four weekdays at college and when she wasn’t in class, she was often on the couch on her laptop to catch up on homework. On this peculiar Monday, Niffty was in class and Angel was alone to simmer in his thoughts. His only warning from both Alastor and Charlie was to lay low.

“But I’m so bored!” Angel proclaimed. “Fuck, maybe I just need to message Cherri. Apologize and shit.” Before Angel could really sulk in his pity party, his phone rang. He answered on the second ring. “Charlie, what’s up? How did the meeting go?”

“I’ll tell you all about it later, but I need you to do me a favor.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I need you to play detective. Look up my dad and try and find out whatever you can about his non-profit rehabilitation center. He would have had it around twenty years ago, before he got together with my mom.”

Angel didn’t expect Charlie to ask him to do that. He was good at sleuthing but for things like stalking potential suitors on Facebook or finding exes on Tinder. Not this. “Uh, anything else I can go off of?” he asked.

“That’s all I’ve got,” Charlie said. “Oh, the city would have cut his funding and shut him down. Maybe check public records.”

“Hold on, are you wanting me to go down to the library and court house and shit?”

“Uh, library, maybe.”

“What happened to laying low?”

“I know, but I really doubt that Valentino or his guys would be around a library, you know…”

“What are you trying to say, sex workers aren’t literate?”

“What?! No! I just mean that I doubt he’s got any guys hanging around the public library seeing if anyone wants a good time. I could be wrong. In fact, don’t go anywhere, just use your laptop. I’ll see if I can swing by there on my way back from work.”

Charlie sounded a bit flustered as she spoke. Angel knew that if it wasn’t important that she wouldn’t have asked. “Okay toots, I’ll do my best,” he assured. “You be careful, alright? Just text me later about how the meeting went.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“Oh, and Charlie?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I was a cock-block for you on Saturday night.”

“Whaaaaaaat that’s crazy who told you that,” Charlie said, her voice raising several octaves.

Angel smirked and rolled his eyes even though she wasn’t there to see it. “I should have known that Alastor was already at the apartment when I came barging in. You don’t have to lie, it’s fine, thank you for consoling me instead of having fun time. I don’t know if I could say the same if the roles were reversed.”

“Uh, yeah, it was no problem,” Charlie stammered. Angel didn’t need to see her to know that she was flushed from embarrassment.

“Well at least y’all are living together now! You can have sex whenever you want to!”

“Hahahahaha I better go, yup, sure can. Okay thanks, Angel!”

Charlie hung up the phone. Angel laughed and tossed his phone on the couch cushion. She was so unpredictable when she’d get embarrassed about sex or not. That was just Charlie’s charm. Angel got his laptop and set it up on his seat on the couch. “Okay Lucifer, whatever secrets you’re keeping, let’s see what I can find...”

~*~*~*~

Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough. Rosie buzzed in her office to keep herself busy in the last ten minutes of the show. At 5:58, Alastor was still arguing with his caller, Greg, about city legislation. Rosie had to put her headphones on and interrupt the heated exchange.

“Sorry Al, but we’ve reached the end of our hour. You’ll have to say goodbye and goodnight to Greg.”

Alastor didn’t seem bothered, he was winning the argument, anyway. “Yes, well, until next time, Gregory. Perhaps when you’re back on the air you’ll have read some more, hmm?”

“You pompous son-of-a-bitch,” Greg swore. “I’ll be back.”

“Ooh, round two, sinners! Thank you for tuning in and I’ll be back the same time tomorrow. Have a good night, New Orleans!” Alastor said. The on-air light turned off. Alastor took off his headphones and grinned as he took a drink of his black coffee. “How many times has Greg called us in the past month? Five times?”

Rosie checked her notes. “Six. You two are practically best friends.”

“Yes, it seems so.” Alastor chuckled. He felt in control once more, just like Rosie told him that he would. He was nowhere near the man in the parking lot of the parade on Saturday and he intended to keep it that way. This was a successful show—he set the record straight about himself and Charlie, dug in on Adam, and argued with callers. The show couldn’t have gone better!

“I need to go down to the copy room,” Rosie told him. “Are you still going to be here or are you heading home?”

Alastor seemed distracted with his show notes. She was surprised that he wasn’t already smoking. “Charlie doesn’t get off work until eight, I’ve got time to spend here.”

“Already thinking about tomorrow’s show?”

“Oh yes. I look forward to the angry Adam Evans supporters who will call in tomorrow to defend his honor,” Alastor grinned.

That man truly enjoyed arguing. Rosie wondered—and not for the first time—what happened to him to make him love conflict so much. She couldn’t do it. She had her fill of arguing with her ex-husband, that was enough for her. “Okay boss, I’ll be back,” she said. Alastor was too engrossed in his paperwork to acknowledge her. That was nothing new, that man was possessed when he found something to take his entire attention.

Rosie went to the elevator. The copy room was on floor two, but she hit floor three instead. “Just a little pit stop,” Rosie told herself. She was shaking with nerves but she told herself that it was just her blood sugar. Rosie didn’t get nervous. Not for things like this.

Alastor may not want to speak with Vox, and maybe that was for the better. Those two didn’t exactly have the tact. But Rosie was sure that if she got Vox alone and in the right frame of mind, she could talk some sense into him. She couldn’t imagine why Vox and Valentino ran in the same circles, let alone how complicated their relationship was. But facts were facts; Vox was a public figure, Valentino was the city’s most notorious pimp, and if Valentino acted up enough, he could bring Vox’s reputation down with him. Vox had to care about what the public thought of him, his career depended on it.

“He’s a liability,” Rosie told herself in the elevator. She practiced for her big speech with Vox.

The doors opened. Not many people were in the building at six, all of the day workers went home and the only ones who stayed were the night crew. The midnight DJ and late night talk show hosts arrived to work at six in the evening, but they were on floor ten. Rosie walked down to Vox’s office and lingered near the door. She could hear him on the phone. He sounded angry. Of course he sounded angry, he was Vox. Did she ever hear him speak normally?

“Make it happen! I don’t care whose dick you have to suck, you need to get us a time slot!”

That’s not Vox, Rosie thought with some alarm. She held her breath and carefully opened the door to his office, just a crack, and peered through.

Vox was sat at his desk, his back turned to her, with his feet on the desk and the phone on speaker. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry,” he assured. “She owes me, I’ll get you on her show by this week.”

“You better!” the voice on the phone yelled.

Adam, Rosie realized. Vox was on the phone with Adam Evans.

“It’ll get done,” Vox said. “I have to go now, my show is in fifteen minutes.”

“Oh you think you can end the phone conversation whenever you want to? Huh, prick? I tell us when we’re done. Get me on Killjoy’s show by this week or else. Now we’re done, prick. Have fun.”

The call ended. Rosie watched as Vox groaned loudly and shoved his paperwork off his desk in frustration. “Fuck you!” he shouted to the phone on the desk. Rosie’s phone pinged from a text message. Vox looked up towards the door. Rosie froze. She had to act and quickly. She knocked on the door. “What,” Vox said.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Rosie thought. She didn’t have a plan but she needed to figure one out, now. She opened the door. “Hey, Vox.”

He regarded her with suspicion. “What do you want?”

“Uh, um… wow, is that a new tie? I like it, dark colors suit you.”

Vox looked down at his tie. “Did Alastor send you down here to fuck with me?”

“Oh come on, you know Alastor doesn’t control me. I do what I want when I want, thank you very much. I, uh, I needed to borrow your…” Rosie trailed off and desperately looked around the room. “Stapler,” she said lamely.

He raised an eyebrow. “You came all the way down to my office for my stapler when there’s a supply room?”

“That’s right.”

“Is it for you or for Alastor?”

“Me.”

Vox rolled his eyes and opened the drawer of his desk. He took out his stapler and tossed it to the other end of his desk. “There,” he snapped. “If you’re quite done, I have a show starting soon.”

This should have been the end. There was nothing more for Rosie to say, now wasn’t the time to ask about Valentino. That was a bad idea. Rosie reached forward and grabbed the stapler she didn’t need. Still, she lingered in her spot. Vox looked stressed beyond belief. In some ways he reminded her of Alastor; they both let the stress control them, debilitate them.

“You know Vox…” Rosie began. What was she doing? Why was she bothering to give any kind of advice or solace to Vox of all people? If Alastor knew what she was doing she’d never hear the end of her being a traitor.

He looked at her with unsure, uneasy eyes. Even he didn’t know what to expect from his enemy’s producer.

Rosie sighed. She couldn’t even blame this lapse of judgment on the alcohol, she was completely sober. “Part of the reason why you always clash with Alastor is because you do what you want whenever you want to,” she said. “As much as that drives him crazy, and as much as that quality in him drives you crazy… it is a respectable quality. You’re the perfect guy to give Al a run for his money.” Rosie knew she had to get the hell out of there. “Thanks for the stapler.”

~*~*~*~

It was raining by the time Charlie was finished with her evening shift. She knew there was a chance for evening showers, yet she forgot to bring an umbrella or jacket all the same. She would have to make it work with her sneakers, jeans, and v-neck tee. All she needed at her job was a name tag and an apron, which she discarded as soon as she clocked out for work.

Charlie spent most of her shift thinking about her mom and dad. She tried to dig into Project Heaven and found several articles about the movement, but she was too distracted with work to really dig in. She told herself that she’d look into it more tonight, as much as she didn’t want to. Really, all Charlie wanted was to go home and curl up in her blankets and sleep. When she thought of home, a sad pang went through her chest. She didn’t have her shared apartment with Angel any longer. It wasn’t supposed to last, she knew it, yet she felt sadness from the loss all the same.

Get a grip, Charlie, she told herself. She stepped outside the cafe. The rain was loud as it pelted into the asphalt of the parking lot. She searched for the security’s SUV. Instead, she saw him standing in the rain, his crimson red umbrella unmistakable, and his cheshire grin even more signature.

“Al,” Charlie smiled.

“Good evening,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, I sent home your father’s fleet for the night.” Alastor approached her and extended the umbrella, which was plenty big enough for the both of them. “I have gumbo at home, it should be ready by the time we get there.”

She stepped under his umbrella and hugged him. He wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the umbrella around her waist and one-arm embraced her in earnest. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” Charlie whispered. She didn’t plan on saying those words, they were the first thing that came to her mind. She wasn’t sure that he even heard her, but she should have known that his hearing was attuned to everything she said.

“You don’t have to,” Alastor assured her. He guided them to the car and opened the passenger’s side for her. While she slipped in, he made quick work of closing the umbrella and getting into the driver’s side with minimal rain on him. He started the car and turned up the heat.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. The last they spoke to each other was that morning when she kissed him goodbye for her meeting. They texted each other and now they could go home to the same place. He wondered idly if all of this was too much for Charlie. He felt partially responsible, given that he was the one who insisted that she moved out of her apartment. Surely she understood the dangers of being at an address that Valentino could potentially know.

“Is this moving too fast for you?” Alastor asked. He looked at Charlie as he asked so he could gauge her reaction.

She snapped her head towards him and met his eyes. “No! Not at all! It’s not you, Al, goodness, seeing you is the best part of my day.”

No one had ever said that to him before. Usually it was quite the opposite, that he was the worst part of someone’s day. He was the worst part of his caller Greg’s day, that was for sure. It was like he was hit with a stun-gun, temporarily unable to say anything back. He was aware of how loud his heart beat against his rib cage. “Well, I’m glad to hear it…” he muttered.

Charlie reached over and held his hand. “Are things moving too fast for you?” she asked him.

He didn’t expect the same question to be thrown at him. “No,” he answered firmly. “It should, I won’t lie to you. This should freak me out, give me a run for my money, but it hasn’t. I don’t think it will. Truthfully, I feel happy that you’ll go home with me. Like I hit the jackpot.”

She smiled. He was so handsome in the light of the street lamp from the sidewalk. “It’s my meeting with Carmine,” Charlie said. “I’ll tell you more about it at home.”

“Then let’s get going,” he said. He gave her hand a squeeze and moved his hand to the gear stick and shifted into reverse. Alastor made it home in record time, catching all the green lights. He guided Charlie to the front door. The gumbo was on simmer on the stove and they could already smell it from the door.

When Alastor opened the door, Charlie gasped in absolute delight. “M-my blankets!” she squealed. “Al, you brought over my blankets!”

It was a silly sight to see such an immaculate apartment such as Alastor’s, with the carefully crafted decorations, sleek furniture, and old timey feel, and then to see Charlie’s rainbow, kitten, and pink blankets folded on the couch.

“This is your apartment now,” Alastor said. “It needs a little Charlie charm, it can’t all be from me, darling.”

She fast-walked to the couch and plopped down onto her blankets. “This is what I needed,” she said. “The only thing that would complete this picture is if you’d come over here with me.”

He grinned and walked into the kitchen. “Very soon, dear. Are you ready for a bowl of gumbo or would you prefer to shower first?”

“I’d like to just sit here, if that’s okay. I haven’t worked an evening shift in awhile, I’m tired. I didn’t even make it to the center today.” Charlie sighed and purposely set her phone on the coffee table. As much as she wanted to look into Project Heaven, she knew it was a better idea to recharge herself. It was nice to smell her blankets and feel at home, yet at the same time, hear Alastor’s musical voice hum to soft jazz music as he busied himself in the kitchen.

How many nights did she spend alone in her apartment? Angel would be at work, the others would be at their own houses, and Charlie would be dead tired from catching two buses and grinding away at the center. How often did she used to think to herself that it would be nice to come home to someone to talk to?

And now look at you, she thought to herself.

“Alastor?” Charlie called out.

“Yes, dear?”

“Just checking that you’re still there.”

He chuckled at her nonsense. “In fact, I am.” Alastor made sure the gumbo was covered and the stove turned off. He cleaned what he could except for the pot and the bowls, which he’d hand wash later. He made a glass of water for her and went into the living room, promptly putting the water cup on a coaster on the coffee table. Charlie certainly was a sight, it was like she half-melted herself into the couch. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this tired,” he commented.

She looked up at him with big, shining eyes. “I dunno, the first time we kissed I was pretty tired,” she said with a smile. Alastor sat next to her on the couch. Charlie really did love her blankets, she held onto them like they were lifelines. “I think I slept six hours from the Sunday I saw you until the Thursday you found me,” Charlie mused. “Honestly, it’s hard to remember, it feels like it’s been forever ago. Isn’t that silly?”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he replied. “Because I do, too. I thought I was going crazy.” Alastor huffed out a breath he didn’t realize that he was holding. He wanted to touch her so badly, it was almost embarrassing that he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. His body screamed knowing that she was next to him; he felt like a magnet that was drawn to the fridge. “This is all new to me,” Alastor admitted. He hoped that she didn’t hear the strain in his voice. “And when I asked you earlier if things were moving too quickly for you, you can say no. You don’t have to worry about my feelings.”

Charlie seemed alarmed at that. “Of course I care about your feelings,” she said. “Alastor, what you want and how you feel matters to me.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

She angled herself towards him and looked at him with renewed focus. “If anyone should be asked the question, it’s you. This is all new for you, why don’t you feel overwhelmed? Sorry, like I don’t want you to, but I understand if you do?”

He shrugged. “The only problems I have are the ones that threaten your safety, Charlie.”

“You’d tell me the truth? Even if it made you seem… you know… vulnerable?”

Oh, what a little sleuth she was. “Yes,” Alastor replied, his voice tight. However, even he doubted himself on whether or not he’d tell the truth in the moment. Would it occur to him to be truthful in the heat of the moment? He was so used to saying what he needed to achieve the goals he wanted. That was no longer a luxury if he wanted to be in a partnership with Charlie. “Well, truthfully, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Alastor said. “I don’t think I’d know a healthy relationship if it knocked me upside my head. I’ve got a thick skull, as Rosie likes to tell me. It sounds complicated and bothersome but then when I’m with you, it’s one of the easiest things in the world. Like breathing air.” Alastor gave into his temptations. He didn’t settle for a hand hold or a brush of the face—he pulled Charlie over and into his lap. She gladly went into him. Finally, he had as much of her skin against his, her arms around his neck. “I never thought I’d desire this,” Alastor whispered. “I never thought I’d want something like this, but now that I have it, I can’t ever imagine going without it.”

She nuzzled her face into the exposed crook of his neck and breathed in his scent. Her entire body shivered from his touch. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you afraid of anything?”

He didn’t answer. He thought carefully about her question. Admitting fear was admitting weakness. Admitting weakness was relinquishing the control that he worked so hard to gain. Was it true? Was he afraid? Alastor met Charlie’s searching eyes; such innocence swirled around in those orbs of hers. She always saw the good in people with those eyes.

The silence made her nervous. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask you something too personal.”

Alastor mindlessly ran his hands up and down the curve of her spine as he held her. “I don’t know how to answer that,” he said.

“That can be your answer, that’s fine,” Charlie said quickly. “Really, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry I asked such a—”

“If anything happened to you, I’m afraid of the monster I’d become.”

He spoke so softly that Charlie almost missed it. She pieced together his answer in her head and realized what exactly it was that he told her. The untamed gleam in his eyes only drove home his answer.

“Nothing will happen to me,” Charlie whispered. She unhooked her hands from around his neck and cupped his chin with both hands. She felt the tiniest stubble on his chin, just a hint of a five o’clock shadow. “Al, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I do, though,” he argued. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.” He tipped his head forward and leaned into her palms. “It’s such a new feeling, to really care about someone else’s well-being when I spent so long only caring about my own. I only cared about myself for so long, it became so old and I didn’t even realize it. Perhaps this is proof enough that I’m not like my father after all.”

Charlie didn’t miss the detail that this was his third time bringing up his father, and like the first time, it was negative. She tried to hide the tremble in her voice when she asked, “Al… what happened to your father?”

Finally, she asked the question that had plagued her mind since he first mentioned him. All she knew was that he was a bad man. Question was, how bad was he?

He didn’t break their eye contact. She didn’t see any anger in his eyes from the question. “I better tell you now so you have the chance to run away if you want to.”

“I’d never run from you.”

“You don’t know everything about me.”

“Then tell me. I’m right here, Al.”

He did it; he broke their eyes and looked up at the ceiling. She swore that she could see the cogs turning in his mind as he thought about what to say next. Charlie knew this wasn’t easy for him and she peppered kisses along his jaw to show him encouragement. Alastor finally met her eyes once more, renewed in his conviction to see this through. “My father died in prison. He went to prison because he committed horrible murders. The authorities think that he killed over thirty people, but they can only prove twenty-two counts and he didn’t confess to the other eight.”

Charlie finally understood what the expression “blood ran cold” meant, she felt her veins turn icy. She didn’t know what to say. She was vaguely aware that her mouth was open from complete shock. This wasn’t a backstory of his dad leaving him and his mother penniless in a shack of a house with a leaky roof. This was worse. This was so much worse.

“My fascination with serial killers isn’t entirely innocent,” Alastor continued. “I suppose I try to know what my father was like, the thought process behind his acts. I was so afraid that I’d end up like him. I took after his cold, calculated nature. My mother was so afraid that I never learned empathy for others, that’s why she pushed so hard for things to work with Mimzy. She tried to hide everything about him from me. I don’t blame her. Why would she let her only son know about the horrific acts his father committed? It worked, for awhile. But she should have known that when I got older I’d go looking.”

“Did you…? Did you go looking?” Charlie asked with a broken whisper.

“I did,” he replied. “And I found out all of the cruel, evil things he had done. He was a clever killer, one for the books. His spree went on for a course of seven years, even the FBI got involved. They caught him one night when he was being careless. I’ve wondered if he wanted to get caught, he was sloppy about it, unlike the man who had been committing heinous acts for all those years prior. I was five-years-old when my father went to prison. I was twenty-one when they put him on death row and killed him.”

What could she possibly say? Her mind raced. She couldn’t believe that this was the baggage that Alastor carried around so closely with him. This was more than a sob story of divorce and being lonely in the house with the maids. Fuck, this was so much more than she had ever dealt with.

Alastor. Her Al. She couldn’t imagine.

Silence fell between them. He took several deep breaths like he had run a mile without stopping. Charlie’s heart hammered so loudly against her chest and her ears were ringing. She knew that Alastor was already holding her in his arms, but she wanted more of him. “I’m not going anywhere,” Charlie murmured. “Look at me, Al. I’m not running away from you.”

He wasn’t grinning. Instead, he wore a deep-set frown. She saw the real expression behind the mask. The self-hatred, the loathing, and yes, down deep the fear. But was it fear for himself, or fear that she’d leave him? Perhaps both?

“I can’t begin to imagine what that must have been like,” Charlie whispered. “But you’re not your father, Alastor. You said it before, didn’t you? The nature versus nurture. You are the man you choose to be, nothing else will change that. You control the man you are.” She kissed him. He was still against her lips for a few moments, then he snapped out of whatever haze he was in and kissed her back. Charlie scooted herself up and straddled him on the couch so she could kiss him more fervently. She wanted him to feel her affection for him. They broke apart and she breathed, “I wish you’d let me say it.”

He didn’t need to ask her what she meant. He knew. Those three little words that he couldn’t bear to hear. “You don’t need to say it,” he whispered.

“I do, Al, I need to—”

“Hush, darling.” Alastor kissed her once more. He felt his power return with every nip of her lips, the taste of her like a fine wine that brought him back to life. Alastor wordlessly picked Charlie up and she wrapped her legs around his waist like a good girl.

He walked them into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. He needed to fuck her. It was more than a primal need for release, more than a way to get his pent up frustrations out. He needed her, plain and simple. That was reason enough. There would be plenty of time for him to think about what was said between them tonight, but as of right now, he needed to only let his body do the talking.

Charlie took her sneakers, shirt, and jeans off for him to make it easier on him. He smirked in approval and stalked towards her. She waited for him on the edge of the bed, her eyes glossed over with anticipation of what was to come. Alastor grabbed her by the chin and held her steady as he kissed her; this wasn’t a sweet one, this was a claiming kiss. This was to let her know what was to come. She whimpered into his mouth and he drank her moans down as he shimmied down his pants enough to free himself. Alastor sheathed himself into her in one hard stroke. She was wet for him, but she wasn’t ready for the intrusion, and she mewled into his mouth in a mixture of pain and pleasure as he bottomed out inside of her.

“I want you to scream for me,” he snarled. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back so she’d look at him. Charlie’s big, doe eyes. The eyes of his prey. He loved those eyes. He especially loved the way they rolled back in her head when he fucked her at a good angle. Alastor had her pinned down on the bed. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head to make sure she was truly at his mercy. His superior height was at his advantage. Charlie was his to fuck, his to consume, his to have. Just knowing it made him twitch inside of her, the rush of power was almost too much for his head. He moved out and sheathed inside of her once more to the hilt.

“Fuck, Al!” Charlie cried.

Yes, this was exactly what he craved. He felt drunk already off of her. He moved more, holding Charlie’s hands down tightly into the bed as he moved. She heaved her chest up and presented him her breasts, which he gladly buried his face into the valley between. Alastor took one breast in his mouth and sucked. When that wasn’t enough, he bit. She squeaked at his ministrations and he apologetically ran his tongue over the bite mark. The idea of marring up her perfect skin with his nips, hickeys, and especially bite marks made him manic with lust. His dick twitched with excitement and her inner walls clenched him deliciously in response.

“Fuck, Charlie,” Alastor grunted. He kissed up her bare chest and bit her neck. “Can I mark you here?”

She had an idea that he was asking because he planned on really biting down. “This counts as one of your favors,” she said.

Despite himself, despite the situation, despite the focus he had, he couldn’t help but chuckle at her response. How did she manage to disarm him so easily with her cute little quips? “Deal,” he grinned. He rutted himself into her, rolling his hips deliciously into hers. Charlie moaned as he did so. This was the beginning of her undoing. She tried to meet his hips with her own and she wriggled underneath him. Alastor sunk his teeth into the flesh of her neck and bit until he tasted blood. Then he sucked knowing that there would be a big, purple bruise on her lovely pale skin when he was done.

“Alastor!” Charlie screamed. “D-don’t stop! A-Alastor!”

He let go of one of her hands and swiftly attacked the bundle of nerves in the space between their hips. He rubbed her clit with two fingers as he fucked her and bit her. It was all too much for Charlie and she came with another scream, bucking her hips with abandon into his. The way her walls clenched his cock was enough to draw out his orgasm. Alastor kissed her sloppily on the mouth as he came—he wanted her to taste her blood on her tongue, so she’d know how intoxicating she was.

They rode their high together. Alastor bit Charlie’s lip once before breaking their kiss completely and sinking down to his knees where he knelt before her on the bed. Before Charlie could catch up and ask what he was doing, he already had her legs swung over his shoulders and his face buried between her legs. He wasted no time to lick where his fingers had been and place lewd, open-mouthed kisses to her clit.

“Al, ah, oh fuck!” Charlie screeched. Everything was so sensitive from her orgasm, no one had ever tried to give her two in a row before, and she was still seeing stars from her first. She squeezed her thighs together, crushing his head between her legs, and he grunted in carnal approval. “I-I don’t think I can come twice, I-I—”

He feasted on her regardless. Her taste was addicting. Charlie was reduced to a babbling, incoherent mess. She laid there and let him have his way with her and enjoyed the pleasure of it all. Alastor was bound and determined to tongue-fuck her, and she enjoyed the ride of it all. Just when she thought it was too much, the pleasure rebuilt inside of her, and with a few more flicks of Alastor’s skilled tongue, she reached her peak once more. Charlie screamed as she came the second time, this orgasm much stronger than the first. He couldn’t help the victorious smirk, even with his face buried deep in her cunt, and he proudly drank her release.

When he unlatched from her, she shivered. Alastor lightly nipped her inner thighs and made a mental note to bite her there next time, if she’d let him. He laid down on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms.

In that moment, the only thing that mattered to them was each other.

“You believe me, don’t you?” Charlie asked. “When I told you that I wouldn’t run?”

He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. “I’m starting to.”

Notes:

And there we have it, sinners!

Man, the difference between this week and last week was monumental, in a good way! I felt great, no hurricanes, no loss of internet, what a happy day in hell xD

I was very happy to finally get this chapter done. I've had Alastor's backstory with his father being the serial killer in my head since chapter 5ish. I wanted to incorporate some of the lore from the show and I found the premise very intriguing to write.

So now we've got Project Heaven, Adam is trying to get on Katie Killjoy's news show, and Charlie has to bring her A-game to the charity ball. Oh yeah, and Lucifer needs to run for mayor and actually win if he's going to make their lives easier. We're in the final stretch, guys, let's see how these final chapters pan out!

Thank you so much for reading and the comments and kudos, they're very appreciated <3

Chapter 18

Summary:

The chaos continues another week for our band of sinners.

Charlie woke up that morning in a delirium that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. She tried to remember the last time she found herself in such a stupor, but it was too early in the morning to recollect on such matters. Today should have been just another Tuesday; work at 7:00, go to the center in the afternoon, and work there until the evening time.

Today had to be different. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew it the moment she opened her eyes. She decided that going to work was not the best thing to do. Sure, she needed the money, but she never called out and she had a good bit of leverage from covering other shifts this past month. She didn’t want to spend another eight hours at work and think about her problems while she refilled coffee and ran plates of eggs and bacon back and forth to customers. She only had a month to get her program up and running. Carmilla Carmine agreed to fund her project. Her dream was so close to becoming a reality, yet so close to being taken away from her in the same breath.

This was the time for action.

It was 5:49 in the morning when Charlie texted her manager and told her that she was sick and couldn’t come in. She purposely left her phone so she could go shower and tried not to worry about whether or not her manager would be angry at her calling out. So much of her energy was spent worrying about other people’s reactions. She wasn’t going to feel bad about missing one shift. Not at all.

Alastor was still asleep when Charlie got up and went into the master bathroom to shower. At her apartment she shared a bathroom with Angel, and they also shared most hair care products, deodorants, makeup, lotions, body glitter, and hairspray. The only bathroom product Angel refused to share was his set of tweezers because “I use it for more than just my face, doll” which was reason enough for Charlie to steer clear of it. Charlie and Angel also shared a messy trait, which meant two tornadoes went through the bathroom when they used it; bottles everywhere, tissues with wiped off makeup that didn’t make it into the trash, toothpaste that only had a little bit left in the tube but they were both too lazy to squeeze the last bit out, etc.

It was no surprise that Alastor’s bathroom was the total opposite of their shared disaster. His bathroom was much like the rest of his house; tidy, organized, and every product and accessory had its place. Charlie didn’t know if this day would ever come—a girl can dream, sure, and she did wonder what it would be like to sleep over at his place—but she knew if the day ever did come, she’d have to get her shit together and stop being a slob. Unfortunately, that day came sooner whether she was ready for it or not. She wasn’t just staying the nights with him, she was for all intents and purposes living with him. Charlie could only imagine the horror on Alastor’s face if he saw her leave out her ten bottles of nail polish when she felt like painting each finger a different color.

So far, Charlie had yet to show him her bad habits. Most of her stuff was still packed up. She turned on the shower to get the water hot and looked at her reflection in the mirror as the water ran. Charlie knew she looked tired, she saw the bags beginning to form at the bottom of her eyes.

Did you think the stress would go away once the program opened? she thought to herself, with just a hint of bitterness. Face it, Char, this path you’ve chosen is nothing but stressful.

Charlie eyed the big, purple hickey on her mouth. Just seeing it reminded her of when Alastor’s mouth latched onto her, his teeth sunk into her flesh, and the pleasurable pain that came from his bite. Shivers ran from the top of her head down to her spine when she thought about the way he sucked her, like a fucking vampire. She wasn’t sure what it said about her, but she loved it. Sex with her other partners were nothing like sex with the Radio Demon. No one else had the ability to consume her the way he did. Alastor made her feel like putty in his hands. Helpless but in the best way possible.

She could only imagine how Vaggie would think the whole thing was fucked up (oh hell no that she would tell her) or how Angel would praise Alastor for his kinkiness (and if Alastor ever caught wind of it, it was game over).

That was another aspect she enjoyed. No one else knew how all-consuming and downright dirty Alastor could be except for her. No one else had a clue about the sinful nothings he whispered in her ear, the lustful gazes, or the praises he showered her when she really pleased him.

Fuck.

Charlie stepped into the shower and let the hot water hit her skin. It was a welcome distraction. However, once she started thinking about Alastor, there was no derailing the train. She supposed it was better to think about everything now instead of later when she’s trying to handle work. As if she could schedule in her mind when she could think about him. Ha! He always found a way to creep back in the forefront of her mind.

She thought about Alastor’s frown from last night on the couch. It was more than just a frown to show unhappiness—it was a deep-set, harrowing expression. It was how he really felt, what laid under the mask of his Radio Demon grin. Charlie’s chest hurt just thinking about how unhappy Alastor really was. It made her wonder if she even made a difference? Was she enough to make him happy? How could she even be enough for him when he refused to hear the words “I love you” from her?

As Charlie stood in the hot water of the shower, the steam rising and clouding the mirror, the water turning her pale skin pink from the heat, it suddenly occurred to her that Alastor was just like the people she wanted to help in her program. The revelation was staggering. He wasn’t an addict, but at the heart of him, he didn’t think he was worth the help and effort. He needed love just like everyone else. He hid behind his bravado “I’m a sinner, darling, I do what I want when I want to” and it was quite impressive, she had to admit. He spent years perfecting it.

“I’ll break those walls down, Al,” Charlie whispered. She felt silly because of the lump in her throat. She felt like crying. At least in the shower it was impossible to tell the difference between her tears and the water.

“Charlie?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. She didn’t need to ask who it was, instead she peaked her head out of the shower curtain. Alastor was certainly out of sorts with his messy bed-head, no glasses, and his eyes squinted.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Charlie smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, quite alright. I just wanted to check on you, I thought maybe you felt sick.”

“No, I’m fine. Would you like to join me?”

He seemed to perk up a bit at the offer. She could tell that he wanted to, but he was waiting on an invitation like the gentleman he (sometimes) was. “Absolutely,” he grinned. Alastor made quick work of undressing and she made room for him in the shower. He reached down and grazed her hickey with his two fingers. “Was this too much?” he asked. There was a hint of guilt in his tone.

Charlie laughed. “No, not at all. Although, maybe we should try another place that is easier to conceal with clothing.”

He was visibly relieved and grinned wider. “Oh, believe me, I’ve got a few ideas in mind.”

~*~*~*~

“Fuck, Lute, are you sure we’ve gotta do this?”

“It’ll be twenty minutes tops.”

“But you always say that and it always ends up being loooooooonger.”

Adam was not in the mood on that particular morning. He wasn’t in the mood most mornings, but especially not on this one because he still had a raging hangover. Usually his answer was to sleep it off and drink plenty of coffee, but this morning was an important meeting with the co-founders of Project Heaven. One would think that a grown man would know not to go on a Monday night bender, but they didn’t know Adam Evans. Lute certainly knew she was in for a day of his whining until he had lunch.

Today he had to meet with Sera and Emily, the two founders of Project Heaven. Adam couldn’t remember what their deal was, other than blah-blah-blah we help those in need, same song and dance as that bitch Charlie Morningstar. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to team up with these two sisters, because it was almost like dealing with two Charlies. Lute, however, insisted that he needed to back a charity project for his campaign because if he didn’t, Lucifer Morningstar would attack him for it and accuse him of not caring about the community and those in need, blah-blah-blah.

“How did you even find these hippies,” Adam muttered from the passenger’s seat. He didn’t opt for a security team like Lucifer, he preferred Lute to drive him around.

“They were the best option of the lot, there aren’t many local charities around here that focus on rehabilitation,” Lute answered.

“Yeah, because nobody gives a fuuuuuuuck,” Adam groaned. “Look at me, I’m addicted to crack, give me money, wah-wah-wah.”

“That’s why I picked Project Heaven. They try to catch the addiction before it starts.”

“Like they pray for them or some shit?”

“Probably if it’s got Heaven in the name. I spoke to Sera, she’s the older sister. She’s the lead in the project, her younger sister Emily is in charge of actually speaking to people, like the camp counselor. Hopefully you’ll speak to Sera, not Emily.”

“What makes you say that?”

Lute shook her head. “Emily seemed very… excited about their work. To Sera it just seemed more like a job.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Great, so Emily is another Charlie. I fucking knew it. What is it with these women who are so passionate about whining? Huh? Like fuck, don’t you have going on in your own life why give a shit about other people’s drama?”

Lute couldn’t wait to get lunch in him so he’d shut up.

~*~*~*~

Lucifer couldn’t remember the last time he felt such nervous excitement. Tonight was his speech event where he’d be able to talk to the city, get feedback, and answer questions. This morning, he was due at the civic center to practice sound check and make sure that everything was set up and ready for tonight.

He remembered the last time he had this event ten years ago. Lilith was his campaign manager and would constantly check his bow tie and make sure it was straight. “It’s fine, dear,” Lucifer would tell her with a smile.

She very rarely smiled back, she was so focused on perfection. “Just making sure,” she would often say.

Now, Lucifer didn’t have anyone to straighten his bow. He checked it himself to see if it was straight but he could never tell, Lilith was the one who had the eye for it. Maybe he needed a new campaign manager. It wouldn’t be the first time someone suggested it, his assistant certainly recommended some variation of it every day. It didn’t feel right to replace his wife. Whether she was present in his life or not, she was still his wife.

“Talk into your mic, please,” the sound check operator instructed.

Lucifer leaned towards the microphone. “I’d like the McDouble please, extra fries.”

“Very funny, Mr. Morningstar.”

“Ah come on, Jerry, it’s a nice day outside! What’s the matter?”

“A lot.”

“Oh Jerry. Why don’t you go to the park tonight and feed the ducks? Being out in nature might give you clarity, and when you watch those little darlings swim around, you’ll feel better.”

“Sure, sir.”

Lucifer shrugged. He stepped off stage and checked his phone for any updates. To him, it was just another Monday, filled with meetings, sound checks, special guest events, and maybe a cobb salad for dinner. What Lucifer didn’t expect was for someone at the civic center to say:

“Dad?”

He spun around. “Charlie! What a pleasant surprise! Come here!” he exclaimed. He pulled her into a hug and noticed how stiff she was in his arms. Lucifer inspected her; something was off about her. She was tense. “Char, what’s up?”

She let out a heavy sigh. For a moment, Lucifer lit up at the possibility that she broke up with Alastor. Oh, what excellent news that would be! He’d have to work hard not to let on how happy he was, but he could try smiling when she’d put her head in his shoulder to cry. Lucifer braced himself for the possibility of the best news of his life.

Instead, Charlie met his eyes and said, “Did mom date Adam Evans?”

Lucifer dropped his phone. It clanked to the floor. “Wha-ha-who-huh,” he stuttered. He had no idea what to say. He never thought he’d hear Charlie say Adam and her mom in the same breath. “That’s silly,” Lucifer said, louder than he meant to. “What a silly thing to say! Silly like a goose! Haha!”

“Yes or no, dad?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It matters to me to know the truth.”

Shit. Lucifer knew that he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. “Okay, yeah, they had a short thang between them,” he relented. “But that was years ago, Charlie! Your mother obviously chose me and we obviously had you, and I’m sure you’re aware what that entails when we—”

“Yes, dad, I got it!” Charlie squeaked. She was pink. To an outsider, it would have been an amusing to see the father and daughter duo blush the same shade of pink.

Lucifer ran a hand through his hair. “What are you doing here, Char? Did you come here just to ask me that? Are you okay? Is it Alastor, is he being a jackass? Why don’t you come home and live with me there and I’ll bake us cookies every night, how does that sound?”

It was a long shot, and unsurprisingly, she shook her head no. “Look dad, I know we’ve reconnected recently, and I’m happy about it. I really am. But there are things I’ve gotta know, I know you want to protect me, but I need to know them. I’m a grown woman, I can handle it. Okay?”

Did she find out about the red light I ran a few years ago? Lucifer wondered to himself. He always preached road safety and what a giant hypocrite of him to get a ticket for being reckless. “Look, I wasn’t looking at the road when it turned yellow, I was already going fast, I didn’t think I could brake in time.”

Charlie made a face. “Um, no dad, I want to know about your rehabilitation project. The one you started years ago, the one that was shut down. Your Beautiful Ones Rehab Project.”

Lucifer hadn’t heard Beautiful Ones Project in years and years. Just hearing those words sent chills down his spine, like a creepy-crawly spider. “JERRY!” Lucifer shouted. “You never told me how the sound was, do you need me to do another take?”

“I sure don’t,” Jerry muttered from his studio.

“I can go back up there just so we’re extra sure.”

“I’m extra sure that’s not necessary.”

“Well you look thirsty, how about I get you some water, Jerry?”

“Daaaaaaad!” Charlie whined. She put her hands on her hips like she was sixteen, not twenty-six. “Come on, quit stalling! Project Beautiful Ones! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything to me when I started this project of my own almost a year ago!”

Charlie was determined to take full advantage of her called in day off. She was on a tight schedule, first order of business was to meet up with Angel and find out what he discovered, harass her father, grab lunch, and spend a good round of hours working at the center. She needed to figure out how to accept donation money and the exact ways to go about it, so the IRS didn’t get involved. From the horror stories she’s read, the IRS would be more than happy to see where that donation money went to.

When Charlie stomped her foot, her braid fell off the side of her neck that she carefully placed to avoid confrontation. Before Charlie could move her braid back over her, Lucifer had seen the hickey. “Charlotte!” Lucifer exclaimed in horror. “What is that?!”

The one thing Charlie hoped wouldn’t happen, happened. “Th-th-that’s none of your business!” she cried.

“Look at how that wretched, foul Radio Demon is tainting my daughter!”

“Dad! Stop!”

“You’ve got a big ugly hickey because of him!”

Her anger and frustration made her careless. All the years she spent practicing counting to ten and breathing techniques went out the window. “There’s more than just on my neck,” Charlie snapped.

Lucifer gasped. “Charlotte!”

The only thing keeping her from getting lunch and working at her center was her father, who clearly decided that stalling was better than answering her questions. “Dad, please, this isn’t about me. Answer my questions.”

“Oh goodness me, my shoe is untied,” Lucifer said. The hickey was already forgotten. He bent down to tie his shoe. “Do you remember when I taught you how to tie your shoes, Char? Do you ever double-knot the strings to be extra sure they don’t come undone?”

“Dad, I’m about to come undone,” Charlie groaned. “Please, just tell me the truth.”

“The truth,” Lucifer began while still bent down. “Is none of your business, baby girl.”

“I deserve to know the truth! How could mom date Adam? Wasn’t he just as gross back then as he is now? I mean, I get it, he’s conventionally attractive, but as soon as he opens his mouth, yuck.”

“I think a lot of it has to do with his goatee, the ladies love a good love patch.”

“DAAAAAAAD!”

“What?! You wanted the truth!”

Charlie shook her head, hoping that she could somehow shake out the newly acquired memory of her father saying love patch. “Okay, forget about them, it’s your rehab project I want to know about most. Why didn’t you tell me that you started one? I know it failed, but you know I wouldn’t have cared, dad! What I care about is knowing what happened and how I can prevent it from happening to me!”

Lucifer snorted. He was still bent down even though his shoe was tied. “The only way you can prevent it from happening is if you don’t do it, period,” he muttered. “It doesn’t matter how hard you work, Charlie. If you’re at the mercy of the people in power, or this biased fucking city, you’ll fail as soon as they decide they’re done with you.”

She felt the beginning of a cold sweat. The bitterness in her father’s voice was so unlike him, but it was there nonetheless, brewing beneath the surface of his goofy smiles and corny jokes. “Dad…”

Lucifer looked up from his shoes and eyed his daughter from his bent down position. Charlie went and forced him down memory lane, whether he wanted to go or not, and the shine in his eyes were gone. Suddenly, her previous confidence vanished into thin air. This was fresh for her but this was old news to him. Perhaps she was too strong too early. She should have eased him into talking to her, but that would have meant listening to him chat about the ducks for twenty minutes and she was on a tight schedule.

“Dad, I just want to talk about it,” Charlie said softly.

“And we will, sweetie,” he replied. He kept his hands down on the ground but raised up his butt and struck an odd pose. Charlie was about to ask him what the hell he was doing, until Lucifer loudly proclaimed, “Once you catch me!”

He shot off like he was a track star on the field. It would have impressed Charlie if it weren’t for the fact that he was literally running away from her. Lucifer once again proved his impressive athletic talents when he sprinted away. “DAD!” Charlie screeched.

There was no way in hell she’d catch him. He was a slippery one when he wanted to be. She sighed and tried to get a grip on herself.

“Ain’t no way you’re catching his ass,” the sound check guy said from his post.

“Mind your business, Jerry,” Charlie growled. It wasn’t polite to tell people things they already knew.

~*~*~*~

Rosie often wondered to herself what could possibly be going through Alastor’s mind while they were at work. She was sure that if she hadn’t dropped her therapist that he would tell her that it wasn’t healthy, that she needed better boundaries between herself and her boss. But he also told her that forgiveness would set her free from her ex-husband, and Rosie would rather set him on fire than let bygones be bygones. As much as she thought she knew Alastor, she knew there was so much more to him that she’d never know. Not that she wanted to find out, not for her current salary as his producer, but she did wonder.

Today, Rosie didn’t think about Alastor at all. She was too busy thinking about the food trucks that came once a month into the radio station parking lot. It happened once a month, and today was the day that Rosie could hit up the taquito truck. Fucking finally.

However, the taquitos came with a cost: company meeting at eleven. Rosie not only had to get up early, she had to arrive three hours earlier to work than she was used to. The president of the Seven Rings Radio Station liked everyone to be on their best behavior and punctual. This wasn’t the first meeting they’ve had, they had one every year, and the executives knew what they were doing by bringing in food trucks to bribe the employees. Rosie knew she was a chump, but the food was so good.

While Charlie ran around the civic center playing hide and seek (unwillingly) with her father, back at the studio, Alastor and Rosie prepared to go down to the lobby for their work meeting. Alastor didn’t seem bothered that he had to show up early, he simply hummed to himself as he went over paperwork.

“This sucks,” Rosie muttered. Ten minutes until the meeting started, it would go on for at least an hour. She was already starving. She skipped breakfast to make more room for lunch. “What do you think they’ll say to us, Al?”

He didn’t bother to look up from his papers. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll hear about how our ratings have fluctuated. Perhaps they’ll get onto us for going after Adam.”

“What? Why would they do that?”

Alastor looked at her like she missed something. “Corruption, Rosie,” he said with a deadpan. “Did you forget the Evans family is friends with everyone around here?”

She did forget. She only wanted to think about her deep fried tortillas filled with beef and cheese. “But our ratings have never been higher.”

“Which is precisely why they’ll give us a slap on the wrist, nothing more. I don’t think they want us to stop, this is merely for show.”

“You sound confident.”

“We can afford a little arrogance, Rosie. We’re the number one show on this radio station. The Radio Demon didn’t get to the top by being nice.”

Rosie couldn’t argue with that. There were many times over the years when Rosie thought they were done for, usually after one of Alastor’s more outlandish opinions were voiced. But he only sparked more conversation, and conversation meant engagement. He knew how to play the game, better than she would have ever thought.

“We better get in the elevator and go, we’ve got five minutes,” Rosie said.

“That’s four minutes too long,” Alastor argued.

“What if the elevator gets held up? We need to make sure we’re on time.”

“Or else?”

“Or else I’m gonna be mad. C’mon, Al. Up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up from his office chair. “Really, Rosie, I think you worry too much.”

“Alastor, look at me. I want you to see the yearning in my eyes… I want those taquitos. I can only get those if we sit through this stupid meeting and we’re dismissed. Let’s go.”

Rosie and her stupid obsession with food trucks. Alastor didn’t get it. Every year it was the same thing “Ooh they have funnel cakes” or “Heehee I just bought two corn dogs” and who could forget the year Rosie thought gyro sandwiches would solve all her problems. This year, it was taquitos.

He led the way out the door and down the hall to the elevator. Three minutes until the meeting. Rosie’s stomach growled loudly as Alastor hit the button. “Honestly,” he chided. “You should have eaten something, it’s bad to eat fried food on an empty stomach. Remember the year of the fried chicken?”

“It wasn’t the chicken!” Rosie cried. She wasn’t fooling either of them. It definitely was.

The elevator opened.

“Well, shit.” Vox was already inside. He scooted as far right into the corner as he could. “Hurry up, the sooner this meeting is over the better,” Vox snapped.

Alastor purposely took his time stepping inside the elevator. If all three of them were late for the meeting because of his petty spite, so be it. “Vox, what were you doing on the ninth or tenth floor?” Alastor asked. There were only ten floors in the building and Alastor’s floor was the eighth.

“None of your business,” Vox said.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I could make an educated guess.”

“You wish! You don’t know anything!”

“I know a little about a lot, Vox, unlike you who knows a lot about a little and that little shrinks day by day.” Alastor grinned. He hadn’t anticipated a little arguing before the meeting. Lucky him!

Vox sneered at him. “You know, I was gonna be nice and give you a head’s up, but now I don’t think I will. You don’t deserve it.”

“Boys,” Rosie said, intervening. “Let’s play nice, huh?”

“He started it!” Vox exclaimed.

“And I’ll finish it, too,” Alastor grinned. Rosie sighed. They were on the fourth floor. They needed to get to one. “Don’t hold yourself to such high regard, Vox, it’s unbecoming. As if there were anything you could warn me about.”

Vox’s eyes narrowed. “Oh you think you know everything, don’t you? Well, did you know that Adam Evans is going on Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench’s show this week? And did you know they planned on smearing you and Lucifer for sixty minutes straight?”

“What!” Rosie exclaimed. “Oh hell no, they’re not getting away with Katie Killjoy’s show!”

This was the news that Rosie needed to stop thinking about taquitos. Her mind raced with the information bomb dropped on her. Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench had the biggest news program in the city, they were number one in television. If Adam went on there and completely slandered them, it would take so much damage control to combat it. A lot of people only watched the news and didn’t bother with the radio, which would make setting the record straight that much harder.

Before Alastor could reply, the elevator opened to the first floor. The entire radio station was gathered in the lobby. If anyone said anything, there would be an audience. Vox started to stomp past them, but Rosie grabbed his arm and gave it a tight squeeze. “Thanks, Vox,” she said.

Vox seemed uncomfortable by Rosie’s bold touch. His face started to turn red and he knew it. “Ehm, sure. I’ll need my stapler back by this afternoon,” he said, his voice void of any bravado. Rosie let go of his arm and he sped off towards the meeting.

Alastor glared at her like she was an enemy of the state. “What was that about?!” he growled.

Rosie met his stare with challenge. “That was what we call gratitude, Al, you should show some. Not just for Vox, but for me, too. I’ve gotta make some phone calls and get your ass on Katie Killjoy this week.”

“I hate being on television, Rosie.”

“Alastor, listen. Too bad. Let’s go.”

He grudgingly followed his producer to the meeting room. At least now Rosie’s fire was reignited with things that mattered instead of those horrid taquitos.

~*~*~*~

Husk couldn’t remember the last time he went to a political party. This wasn’t his first opportunity, he’d had many in his life, but politics were never something he felt strongly about. Perhaps his time in the military made him cynical. To him, it seemed like no matter who they put up there to do a song and dance about change, it always ended up the same. The only part he enjoyed about watching debates were the expressions the candidates made when they were asked a tough question. He could always tell when they were lying. It was a fun game to play the drinking game; every time a politician told a lie, take a drink. He was usually buzzed within the first half hour.

Today, however, there was no alcohol or the comfort of his at home lazy boy. He was at the civic center, dressed up in a nice pair of slacks and cotton shirt with little diamond designs like on a pack of playing cards. He considered a bow tie but decided against it because more than likely Lucifer Morningstar would be wearing a bow tie. Although, Husk was certain that he wore it better. This was Lucifer’s event, not his, and he had no trouble letting the Morningstar man shine. Knowing that he was better was reward enough.

There were a decent amount of people who showed up to hear Lucifer speak. Husk looked around the crowd to see if he’d recognize anyone. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw Niffty and Angel by the concession counter. Husk approached them without hesitation. “Where’s your prisoner?” Husk asked, referring to Pentious.

“Couldn’t make it,” Niffty said, the sadness unmistakable in her voice. “But that’s okay! Right, roommate?”

Angel fake smiled. “That’s right.”

Husk raised an eyebrow. “I thought you lived with Charlie.”

Before Angel could answer, Niffty excitedly spoke first. “She’s old news! Now he’s with me! It’s been great, I’ve made us ramen noodles every night and we use the same bath towel!”

Husk couldn’t hide his grimace of disgust. “Hand towel!” Angel corrected. “We use the same hand towel, not bath towel!”

Niffty laughed. “I always get those confused. I’m gonna go see if they’ve got any butter for this popcorn!”

She bounced off, leaving Angel and Husk to themselves. The older man looked at Angel and waited patiently. Angel groaned and dramatically rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

“You always have time, you’re very frustrating about that,” Angel growled. “Okay, tldr, which means too long didn’t read, by the way. I quit my job, Valentino threatened to kill me, Alastor made me and Charlie move out of our apartment in case Val had my address on file. She went to Alastor’s house, I went to Niffty’s. That’s it. Happy?”

Husk shrugged. “So what you’re saying is, you need a job?”

“Don’t remind me. I’ve been looking, okay? I had my time of mourning, I’m done crying about it. This gorgeous face and voluptuous body can find work, no problem.” Angel huffed and started to walk towards his seat. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“This is a public event and I’m a citizen.”

“Oh come on, did Alastor send you?”

Husk smirked. “Why are you here? Did Charlie send you?”

“Haha. As a matter of fact, she did. She’s not coming tonight, she’s mad at Lucifer for something. It was hard to hear her through her wailing. Something about chasing her dad down, couldn’t get the truth out of him, blah-blah-blah. As long as I don’t have to pay to be here, I’m fine.”

That was Husk’s sentiment as well. Truthfully, he went to this event because it had been radio silence since Saturday at the parade and he wanted to make sure everyone was okay. He had a feeling something went wrong, and it looks like his instincts proved to be correct. Just looking at Angel told him that he was beyond stressed. Angel may have experience downplaying his problems, but Husk was a poker player at heart—he knew a bluff when he saw one.

“You want to sit together?” Husk asked.

“Why? So you can ask me questions about everything?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

Angel led the way. Niffty met back up with them and the three of them made their way to the seating to see if there were three available seats. There was a security guard at the door and when he saw them, he stopped them. “Hold on,” the guard said, holding them back. “Are you Angel? Niffty? And Pentious?”

“Husk,” Husk corrected.

“I don’t have Husk on my list.”

“Yes, he’s Pentious,” Angel said. “Sorry, he’s a compulsive liar.”

Husk wanted to elbow him for that comment. The security guard didn’t seem to care that much. “Lucifer reserved seats for y’all. Follow me. Is Charlie with you?”

Angel shook his head. “Charlie told me to tell y’all, and I quote, ‘I’m not coming down until dad tells me the truth’.”

The guard blinked. “That’s great. Thanks.” He gestured for them to follow him to the first row. The three did as he instructed.

“She probably meant for you to tell Lucifer that,” Husk said.

Angel put his hands up defensively. “I’m just being thorough.”

~*~*~*~

The company meeting went just as Alastor suspected it would. He sat in the corner of the room with one leg crossed over the other and he took this as an opportunity to think about things he otherwise didn’t have the luxury to think about. His show, for one thing. Valentino, although he stopped himself short on that trail of thought when he felt himself get angry about it. The thought of Adam made him angry, but it was a different kind of anger, one that was gasoline to his fire that motivated him to work harder. The higher they stand the harder they fall. Alastor intended to make good on that saying for the Evans man.

The president of the radio station was a man in his late fifties who went off on a tangent about when “he was once a young man and had ambition” and all the uninteresting bullshit that Alastor tuned out.

His thoughts went to Charlie, just like he knew they eventually would. She seemed off this morning when they showered together. Maybe it was because of how early it was, but Alastor wasn’t convinced. Maybe she was having second thoughts after he told her the truth about his father. He hoped that wasn’t the case, but the pessimist in him was convinced that had to be it.

Maybe I shouldn’t have told her at all.

That’s selfish and you know it. She deserved to know.

Alastor knew that he wasn’t an easy person to deal with. He was never in denial about it. There was no way he could be after years of Rosie hammering it into his head about how difficult he could be. He wouldn’t blame Charlie if she decided that this wasn’t for her, that she wanted another person who didn’t have so much baggage. At least if she did leave him, she would do so without ever saying those three words to him.

Because if she left me after saying it, that would destroy me.

He was surprised by that thought. Did he just admit that something could take him down?

Alastor snapped back to reality at the perfect time. “Well, that wraps everything up,” the president said. “I’d like to have a word with you, Alastor, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, sir,” Alastor replied smoothly. He heard Rosie’s heavy breathing beside him. She was nervous. “You can stay put if you’d like,” he told her before standing up from his seat.

Rosie waved her hand. “We’re in this together. It’s better I hurl now before I eat.”

“Hells, Rosie.” Alastor waited for her to teeter to her feet and the two approached the company president. By now, the rest of the radio station employees scattered, having been dismissed. A lot of them went outside to get their food truck lunch. “Yes sir, how may we be of assistance?” Alastor asked, putting on his showtime grin.

The president lowered his voice for their ears only. “Look, it’s no secret that I’m friends with the Evans family. And you’ve been going for their throats lately.”

“I am indeed,” Alastor said.

“Well, that puts me in some hot water, because I’ve had a lot of those Evans family members reach out and ask if I can do anything in my power to get you off the air.” Rosie had to clutch Alastor’s arm to stop herself from fainting. She was sure that this was it, this was their termination. The president, however, chuckled after he spoke. “But fuck them, your ratings have never been higher and those Evans people are pricks. I listened to your show yesterday, very interesting how most of them have evaded their taxes. Honestly. Bury them, Radio Demon.”

What started out as a fake grin turned into a genuine wolfish grin from the Radio Demon himself. “I intend to,” Alastor said with glee. “Thank you, sir.”

“Is your producer okay? You’re pale, darling.”

Rosie was the color of a white sheet, she was almost as pale as Lucifer. Alastor patted her on the head. “She’s peachy! Just a bit starstruck in your presence, the president of Seven Rings Radio Station himself!”

“I’mgoingtokillyou,” Rosie muttered.

The president laughed. “Well in that case.” He took out a pen from his jacket pocket and wrote his name on Rosie’s forehead. She stiffened when he did so, unable to speak or move. The president seemed pleased with his penmanship. “It’ll wash off, don’t worry! Always great to meet a fan. Now, if y’all will excuse me, it’s taquito time.”

He walked away, leaving the Radio Demon and his producer, the dynamic duo. “Quite an ego to assume you’d want his signature on your forehead,” Alastor commented.

“This is your fault,” Rosie growled.

“Yes, yes. Let’s go. Are you going to wash your face before your lunch?”

“No.”

“Of course not.”

~*~*~*~

Angel wished that he brought ear plugs during the speech. The fan girls in the audience screamed for their short king so loud that his ears were ringing. Lucifer stepped up on stage at 6:00 sharp and did a bow to appease the roaring crowd. “Thank you, thank you,” he said into the microphone. “I appreciate all of you coming out to hear me speak!”

“BEAR MY CHILDREN!” a woman screamed from the front row.

“Jesus Christ,” Husk muttered.

Lucifer laughed off the woman. “That’s sweet, but no thanks! Whether you’re here as one of my supporters, or you’re here because you’re on the fence about my vote, or maybe you’re set on voting for my competitor… thank you for coming here today. I always strive to earn my vote and I look forward to the Q&A section that we’ll have later tonight. I’m here to discuss my ideals and what I’d like to implement when I’m in office for mayor, as well as listen to your concerns with our beloved New Orleans. With that being said, go Saints!”

The crowd cheered even louder at the mention of the football team. “He knows how to charm a room,” Husk said to Angel.

“I wonder if he’s aware of his sex appeal,” Angel mused. “You realize how crazy these people would go if he unbuttoned his shirt and showed some chest hair, maybe padded his pants to round his ass, and just a little bit of bronzer, just a tad.” Angel couldn’t help but grin at the thought of it. Sure, this was his best friend’s father, but that didn’t mean that Lucifer Morningstar wasn’t a hunk in his own right. Sorry, Charlie.

Husk rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised no one has parodied Lucifer in one of your pornos.”

“Oh, we have. I didn’t get the main role, I’m too tall and my limbs are too long. It was called ‘Two Senators, One Voting Booth’ and it got impressive streaming numbers.”

Husk was just kidding. He should have known better. “Does Charlie know about it?”

Angel laughed. “Sometimes it’s better to not know everything.”

Now that Husk could agree with.

The show went on and Husk was pleasantly surprised by it all. Lucifer Morningstar was a big name in the city and because of tonight, Husk finally understood why. The man knew how to work a crowd. He was well-spoken, great timing, sprinkling comedy in between his talking points, and even when he was attacked during the Q&A, he maintained his composure. Husk couldn’t imagine why any bozo would vote for Adam Evans, but that was neither here nor there.

The ninety minutes passed and people began to usher out of the building after Lucifer’s closing speech. Husk stood up from his seat for the first time in almost two hours. His knees cracked as he did so. “Hoo boy, I’m gonna have to stretch tonight,” he said.

Angel and Niffty stood up from their seats like spring chickens. “Well that was fun, a couple of boring parts, but it was fun,” Niffty said. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, I’ll catch you by the doors, roomie.”

“Sounds good,” Angel said.

Niffty punched Husk’s arm. “Later, gramps!” she giggled before running off.

“Why I outta,” Husk growled. He let it go. There was no way he’d catch Niffty. Now it was just him and Angel, who put his hands on his hips and looked at him expectantly. “What’s your deal?” Husk asked.

“I’m just trying to figure out if you’ll ask me to dinner or not,” Angel said back.

“Why do I have to ask? Why don’t you ask me?”

“Usually the one who asks is the one who pays and I’m currently unemployed.”

“Oh, of course. Well your highness, you’re not getting a damn steak dinner if that’s what you’re thinking. Taco Bell or Burger King.”

Before Angel could choose, a new voice made itself present, a voice that he had hoped he’d never hear again.

“Angel, baby, I knew I’d find you here.”

Before Angel could turn around and face off with Valentino, who always had a knack for sneaking up behind him and dragging him back, someone else moved faster. Husk pushed past Angel and blocked Valentino’s hand from reaching out and snatching Angel up. Husk squared off in front of Valentino and faced him fully. “I’ve had enough of you, fucker,” Husk said. He lurched forward and his fist collided with Valentino’s face.

Crunch.

Valentino staggered backwards but didn’t fall over. He barreled forward and exchanged punches with Husk, who was ready for him. Valentino had the height advantage, but Husk had the durability to take a hit. It all was too fast for Angel, who stood there horrified. Valentino’s other men approached, four of them, and they tried to snatch Angel.

This was just like the time at the bar with Charlie. Angel thought about how helpless he was when it happened. It was repeating itself over again. Who was going to be hurt this time? Husk? Niffty? All because of him?

Not this time!

Angel curled his hands into fists of his own and threw a punch to one of Valentino’s men. “Get away from me!” he screamed. A flurry of punches, shoves, and curses flew by. Angel was aware that he was hit, but he was also certain that he landed hits himself.

It didn’t take long for Lucifer’s body guards to arrive on scene. They pulled Husk and Angel away from Valentino and his men. “We’re gonna have to throw you out,” one of the security officers said.

“You are nothing without me!” Valentino screamed. “No one else will hire you, no one else will pay attention to you! You only have me, Angel, baby! And I may not take you back unless you apologize!”

“Hey now, hey now!” Lucifer exclaimed. He approached the scene.

“We were about to escort Valentino and his boys out,” the guard said.

Lucifer held up his hand. “Hold on, you’re the asshole who’s threatened my daughter, aren’t you? You’re the reason why she’s got security 24/7 at her rehab center.”

“This doesn’t involve you,” Valentino snapped. “This is between me and my employee.”

“Former employee, asshole,” Husk corrected.

Valentino laughed. “Good luck getting anyone to hire a former porn star! You’ll come back, Angel. And I’ll be waiting with open arms so long as you’ve got open legs.”

Angel felt like he was on fire. This was Valentino at his worst, and he was showing this side to everyone.

“As a matter of fact,” Lucifer said, “Angel does have a job. His past as a sex worker doesn’t mean a thing! He’s my campaign manager!”

Husk and Angel exchanged shocked looks. “Wh-wha-ye-yeah that’s right!” Angel cried, trying his best to recover. “And if you come back here, I’ll press charges, asshole. I’ve got a legitimate job now. I’m not afraid of you.”

Valentino sneered at him. “Campaign manager? Oh please.”

“Oh, I would please,” Angel argued. “Guards, you can escort them out.”

There were more shouts and curses, but Valentino and his men were taken out of the civic center. This left Husk, Angel, and Lucifer alone to stand near the stage. It was almost 8:00 in the evening and almost all the guest attendees were gone.

“Charlie wasn’t with you?” Lucifer asked.

Angel had his lines rehearsed, but after everything Lucifer did for him just now, he didn’t have it in him to say it. “She didn’t feel well,” he said instead.

Lucifer smiled but it was empty and didn’t touch his eyes. “She’s mad at me. I know.”

“You didn’t have to lie for me, sir,” Angel said instead. “I appreciate it, really.”

The Morningstar man shrugged. “You can have the job if you want it.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Well, it’s true that I don’t have a campaign manager. It pays pretty well, much more than a minimum wage job. And I don’t care about your past employment. All I care about is if you can do the job and help me out, and maybe take my side when I’m arguing with Charlie, but that’s completely up to you.” Lucifer smiled that same empty smile. “Think about it, Angel. I’ll see y’all tomorrow, it’s getting late. My security will see you out just in case that vermin isn’t fully gone.” Lucifer tipped his head and headed towards the backstage.

Once more, it was just Husk and Angel.

“This is crazy, right?” Angel asked him. He was in disbelief and shaking from adrenaline. “I can’t be a fucking campaign manager. I mean, look at me. I’m an adult entertainer. What the fuck.”

Husk ran a hand through his hair and couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. “Angel, I’m a gambling man,” he said. “My job is to make bets. And if it were up to me… I’d bet on you.”

Notes:

And there we have it, sinners!

I'm not sure if I'd consider this chapter a filler, more like it focused on the other characters a little bit while actual Charlastor took a backseat. Shame, I know, but I needed story progression lol. I won't lie, I enjoyed writing a bit of Angel/Husk, and of course I knew this would be the chapter where Lucifer really shined as a big fucking dork. I love the idea of him having excellent athletic capabilities that he only uses to get out of situations LOL.

The reason why I named Lucifer's old rehab project Beautiful Ones is because I was under the impression that Lucifer meant beautiful. But a quick google search tells me NOPE hahahahaha I'm WRONG xD Oh well. I mean I'm not deep dive investigating here, maybe in some language somewhere it does mean beautiful, but it doesn't show up on the first page of my google search lol.

I can't believe this story has 18 chapters! Katie Killjoy, the ball, the election date... loose ends will be tied!

Thank you for sticking with me and reading the story, it means so much to me! :)

Chapter 19

Summary:

Adam Evans is going on Katie Killjoy's television show and Rosie has a plan to stop it. Angel is employed once more... as Lucifer's campaign manager.

In the radio and television industry, everyone knew everyone. Business was business. You could like someone personally but in the same breath destroy them professionally. The reason why was always the same answer: business was business. The radio and television stars ran in the same circles but very rarely overlapped. Katie Killjoy was the biggest name in television for evening news and had no competition with the Radio Demon, who was the biggest name in talk show radio. However, loyalties mattered. Tom Trench, who was good friends with Vox, may not have a professional vendetta against Alastor, but he personally thought he was a piece of shit. As it happened, Tom Trench was Katie Killjoy’s co-host.

“Just one more complicated thing about my job,” Rosie muttered. She was in her car and on her way to the television studio that was even more in the heart of New Orleans than the radio station. She was caught in bumper to bumper traffic but used this time to think about her approach.

Alastor was aware of Rosie’s intentions to get him on Katie Killjoy’s show, despite his initial reservations about it. As much as he didn’t want to be on television, he knew that Rosie was right when she told him that the damage control would be too much. A lot of people listened to radio, that much was obvious from Alastor’s ratings. But a lot of people only liked to turn on the news at night on the couch and consume whatever media was being thrown at them, and typically those people weren’t interested in tuning on a radio show to hear the other side of the argument.

Whatever Adam and Lute said on Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench’s evening news show was going to be bad.

“Not on my watch,” Rosie said. She gripped the steering wheel even tighter and white knuckled it all the way to the news station parking lot.

Once, Rosie considered television. She was a much younger woman then, a naive but ambitious version of herself that hadn’t yet met Alastor. She worked in television for two weeks before putting her application in at the Seven Rings Radio Station and praying that they called her back. Television was a different beast altogether. The types of people who made it were sharks. When Rosie entered the building and took the elevator, she knew she was entering the dangerous waters.

“Well, look who’s here,” Katie Killjoy said when she saw Rosie.

The two women were well aware of each other, it was impossible not to know each other after years and years in the business. The same events, the same hosts, the same publicity parties. Katie Killjoy was nearing forty but made sure that she looked good for her age. She was always kept up with her blonde locks in place from the hairspray, eyes done up with mascara, and red lipstick. Always red lipstick. There were days when Rosie went to her job in stain-covered sweatpants, much to Alastor’s horror. That was one nice perk of being in radio, as long as your vocal chords worked, no one saw what you looked like.

“Katie,” Rosie greeted. She entered into her office with no issue because of her badge from the radio station. “How have you been?”

“Do you care?” Katie countered.

“Not really.”

“That’s what I thought. Have a seat.” Rosie did just that. She sat down in one of the three guest seats that faced Katie in her office. Katie Killjoy was the type of person to hang up “live love laugh” signage on her walls, as well as frame every single award she’s ever received during her career. “So,” Katie began. “Why are you here?”

“I know about Adam Evans appearing on your show.”

“Oh? How’d you find that out? I won’t announce it until tonight.”

“Vox told me.”

“Did he? That little weasel, Vox was the one who called me begging to put Adam Evans on my show to begin with. Why would he tell you, who works for his nemesis?” Katie asked with a grin. She smelled a story and she was delighted.

“I couldn’t tell you,” Rosie answered honestly. “I just know that I’m here to convince you to let Alastor on your show with him.”

Katie’s eyes narrowed at the suggestion. “You want me to put those two on the air together? When they’ve already gotten in a fist fight on live television?”

“That’s right. And I want you to not tell Adam about it. In fact, I want everyone to be surprised about Alastor coming out on your show. Imagine the ratings. Imagine the trending hashtags. Imagine Adam’s stupid fucking face when he sees Alastor come out.”

Rosie knew that this was drama that would bring in the numbers. Katie knew it, too.

“Tom is friends with Adam,” Katie said, referring to her co-host. “And I doubt that he’d appreciate me bringing Alastor out without telling him.”

“Whose show is it? Whose name is listed first? Yours or Tom’s? It’s yours, Katie. Killjoy is first, then Trench. Don’t tell Tom. Look, if you bring those two on the air to fight it out, you’ll have chaos. I know that. But you’ll have interest, intrigue, and an opportunity to showcase what these two men are capable of. If you only put Adam on the air, you’ll have sixty minutes of him whining about Morningstar and Alastor. If you put Adam and Alastor on the air, you’ll have arguments. Debates. Unpredictability.” Rosie sat back in the seat and crossed her arms. She couldn’t help the smirk on her face. “The ratings, Katie.”

Katie was interested. Rosie could see it in her eyes. “I’ve been following the drama between Alastor, Evans, and Morningstar,” Katie said. “So I know you’re right, but I think we can do a little better.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I want Charlie on the show with him.”

Rosie was knocked down a peg but maintained the smirk on her face. Would Charlie agree to this? Has Charlie ever been on live television before? That sweet girl, would she end up being a deer in the headlights? She seemed like the type who would throw up before going on stage.

“Why Charlie?” Rosie asked. It was a dumb question. She knew why.

Katie chuckled. “It’s obvious! Romance! People want to see Alastor protect the honor of his girlfriend on live television!”

Fuck. Katie was right. That would be fantastic television. Rosie sighed and silently prayed that this decision wouldn’t be a total disaster. “If you don’t tell anyone about it… deal. I’ll give you Charlie and Alastor.”

Way to throw them to the sharks, Rosie.

Katie Killjoy grinned in victory. “Deal. Tell them to show up at six on Thursday, they can use the hair and makeup room on another floor. We’ll keep them in hair and makeup until a temp brings them out as our special guests.”

“Deal.”

~*~*~*~

Is that Angel’s voice? Charlie wondered to herself as she walked up the steps to Lucifer’s front door. He was home most afternoons after 3:00 to work at his main computer. Charlie figured that whatever she heard must have been her dad’s youtube reels or one of his tiktoks. However, upon opening the front door, which was conveniently left unlocked, Charlie heard her father’s voice loud and clear.

“So wait, you’re saying that the woman in the audience from yesterday wanted to impregnate me? That’s odd and quite frankly, a bit uncomfortable.”

“That’s right, sir, and you better get used to it. We’re going to up your sex appeal. We’re going to turn this city absolutely feral for you. Now, show me your walk. Sashay your hips. I want you to work it like a runway.”

“No fucking way,” Charlie said. She broke out into a run and followed the upbeat techno music all the way into her father’s office. When she opened the door, she saw Lucifer walking down the carpet, jutting his hips side to side, while Angel sat on his desk with a clipboard and a pen tucked above his ear. Angel was in slacks, his best loafers, a dress shirt with a loose collar, and a sparkly tie. This was his business attire, reserved specifically for his “sexy business” look. When Charlie saw the tie, she knew this was serious. “What is going on here?!” she demanded.

Lucifer spun around and lost his balance, falling to the floor with an undignified “oomph!”

“We’ll need to work on that,” Angel said. “You should be able to walk, talk, sashay, drop it like it’s hot, pop, lock, bend, and snap.”

“You’re so right,” Lucifer agreed.

Charlie lightly smacked her face. She thought that maybe she was dreaming. When the apparition of her father and Angel didn’t disappear, she repeated herself. “Again, what is going on here?!”

Lucifer and Angel looked at her. “Sorry toots, you’re interrupting some business,” Angel answered.

“Hi sweetie,” Lucifer greeted. “Are you still upsetti-spaghetti with me?”

“Why is Angel here?” Charlie asked instead.

Lucifer grinned. “Why, he’s my new campaign manager!”

“Since when?!”

“Since last night, dear! I thought your friends would have clued you in, sorry you didn’t get the memo.” Lucifer put his hands on his hips and jutted his hip far to the right. “Okay, how is this for attitude?”

Angel didn’t seem impressed. “Relax the shoulders, don’t hunch so much. The lips, short king, what are your lips doing? Pucker them, just a little bit, don’t do a duck face.”

“What’s wrong with a duck face?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

Charlie didn’t know what to make of this. She came over to her dad’s house in an attempt to apologize for not attending his event yesterday, but now the apology was the furthest thing from her mind. She didn’t expect to find her father with Angel, let alone to take sex appeal advice from him. Sure, out of all of her friends, Angel was the obvious choice, but that wasn’t here nor there. Charlie’s mind swam for something—anything—to say when suddenly, she saw it.

“Dad, are your pants padded?”

Lucifer grinned. “You like them? Do they look fake? Angel said they make my butt look like two apples.”

“And New Orleans is gonna wanna take a bite of dat plump ass,” Angel growled, proud of himself.

Charlie wanted to scream. “Okay, enough! Are you really his campaign manager? Are you legitimately getting paid money for this?!”

“Of course,” Lucifer and Angel answered at once.

“How did this happen?”

Angel took the lead. “Valentino was at the event yesterday and started up on his shit. We got in a fist fight! Husk fought Valentino. I fought some of his boys, it was fun. Yeah, so Val kept saying how nobody in this city would hire a sex worker, then your dad hired me on the spot as his campaign manager. Today is my first day and look Charlie, look how much better Lucifer’s ass is.”

“I don’t want to look at my dad’s ass.”

“Come on, it’s sizzling hot.”

Lucifer blushed. “Oh, that’s so sweet.” He walked over and pulled Charlie into a hug even though she was as still as a statue. “Darling, don’t be upset. We’ll talk later. Angel is safe, everyone is fine, you can work on your project without worry.”

“But, but, but,” Charlie stammered. Why did she come here? What did she want to talk to her dad about again? All of her thoughts were out the door the moment she saw her father do the cat walk down the carpet.

Angel clapped his hands together. “Okay! Runway strut is over, we need to go over your speech.”

“Ah yes, I read your footnotes while I ate my oatmeal. I’m not sure about the moaning,” Lucifer replied. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Charlie on the cheek. “We’ll see you later!”

“Later toots,” Angel said. “Can you close the door behind you?”

Charlie wasn’t sure if she walked out of the office on her own accord or if she was gently guided out the door by her father. She didn’t snap out of her haze until the door clicked shut and she was alone in the hallway of her childhood home. “What the fuck,” she whispered.

~*~*~*~

Alastor enjoyed giving bad news. He reveled in it. Nothing too personal, heavens no, but telling people they’re fired for their insubordination was certainly enjoyable. Not that he’d ever done it, he wasn’t in a position to fire people (yet) but the few times he overheard his radio manager or even the president of the company say “You’re fired, pack up your shit!” Alastor was sure to have a skip in his step.

“I should make you do this,” Alastor growled to Rosie after the on-air sign went off. Another fantastic show; arguing, arguing, and more arguing.

Rosie didn’t have to ask him what he meant, she knew. “Better get used to it, Al. This will be the first of many times you’ll have to tell Charlie news she won’t like.”

He rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have enough time to light his cigarette before the door opened and his darling Charlie walked in. She had worked the morning shift at the cafe and changed into her street clothes, which was a knitted sweater, jeans, and sneakers today. “Hello!” she greeted with a smile. “I listened to the show on the drive over! You were great!”

Rosie spun her chair around so her back faced him. He knew it was because she was trying to hide her laughter. There was something comical about Charlie being sweet and supportive to Alastor for his show, Rosie couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it was because Alastor just spent the past forty minutes ripping into his callers, at one point asking Greg if he graduated fourth grade, and Charlie made it sound like Alastor was actually contributing to society with his show. It was cute, if you asked the producer.

Alastor ignored her. “Thank you, dear,” he said as warmly as he could. “Come in, we’ll leave soon. There’s still coffee in the pot if you’re interested.”

“Oh no, it’s too late for caffeine,” Charlie smiled. “Hi Rosie! How have you been?”

Rosie smiled wide. “Oh, I’ve been wonderful! Come here, give me a hug!”

Alastor glared at her for hugging his Charlie before he had the chance to. As soon as Rosie let Charlie go, Alastor had her tugged into his embrace and held her securely in place with one arm. Charlie, of course, didn’t think anything of it. “So, why did you want me to come down here?” Charlie asked. She leaned her face into Alastor’s chest and took a deep whiff of his cologne and scent. Oh, she could stay in his arms forever.

“Good question,” Alastor replied. He afforded himself one more glare at Rosie. His producer met his hostile gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Well Charlie, there’s been some fires over here that I hadn’t told you about because I wanted to put them out, first.”

Her eyebrows knit together in concern. “Fires?”

“Vox pulled some strings and got Adam Evans on Katie Killjoy’s show.”

“Oh, that’s not so bad.”

Rosie interrupted. She couldn’t take it. “Oh, darling Charlie, you are wrong. Dead wrong. That is not just bad, that’s terrible.” Charlie’s innocent face slowly sunk into one of confused horror. “There are a lot of people in this city who only watch the news and don’t listen to radio,” Rosie explained. “So the damage control will be much more difficult.”

Alastor stepped back so he could see her face and held her tightly by the shoulders. “But,” Alastor said. “Rosie worked fast and we have a solution!”

“Adam won’t go on Killjoy’s show?” Charlie squeaked.

“No,” Rosie said. Finally, the guilt in her voice crept in. Was this what it was like to tell a child that their pet fish died while they were at summer camp?

“Close,” Alastor said. “Instead, I’ll go on Katie Killjoy’s show with him.”

“Oh,” Charlie squeaked. She wasn’t sure if this was good or bad, given that the last time those two were alone in a room they got in a fist fight. “Uh, well, good! Right, is that good?”

“That’s good,” Rosie confirmed. “Tell her the even better news about it, Al.”

He glared at his producer from over Charlie’s head. “The better news,” Alastor said through gritted teeth. “Is that in order for me to go on Killjoy’s show, we had to promise her that I wouldn’t go alone… we said that you’d go on the show with me.”

Silence.

Charlie stared into Alastor’s expectant eyes with her big, doe ones that shined with such naivety and innocence. “Wait…” Charlie said. “You mean… I’m going on Katie Killjoy’s show?”

“Surprise!” Rosie exclaimed.

Charlie screamed but her voice was cracked and all that came out was a dry squeak, like a dusty chew toy that was under the couch for ten years. “Al! I-I-I can’t go on live television! Oh my goodness, oh no, no no no no no, aaaahhh!”

Alastor didn’t know what to do. He pulled Charlie into him and her babbling was muffled by his chest in her face. “It’s fine, dear,” Alastor soothed. “You can do this. Television is no big deal, believe me.”

“B-b-but! Is that the only option? Do I have to go on with you?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Rosie tried to help. “It’s the price of fame, Charlie. You’re dating a well-known and controversial public figure, Katie wants you on there to create friction.”

Charlie kept her head buried in Alastor’s chest. He rubbed her back in smooth circles and took note of how fast her heart fluttered. “I’ll be with you the entire time,” Alastor promised. “You can do this.”

Finally, Charlie’s muffled voice spoke against his chest. “I can do this.”

~*~*~*~

There wasn’t much time between when Alastor’s show ended at 6:00 and when they were expected to show up at the news station for the 7:00 news. The Radio Demon did something that he never did in his decade of shows—he ended the show early. The on-air sign was off by 5:40 and Rosie was panicked as she changed her clothes in her little producer office.

It was only fitting that if Rosie got them in this mess, she’d go with them for the ordeal. Rosie would much rather be home and eating leftover Chinese takeout, but whatever would appease the boss.

“Charlie is downstairs waiting on us,” Alastor snapped. “C’mon Rosie, we’ve gotta hustle.”

“You take your car, I’ll take mine,” Rosie snapped. “Just leave without me, I’ll catch up!”

“Promise me you won’t make any unnecessary stops!”

“I promise!”

“If you walk into that studio with a Starbucks, I swear, Rosie…”

“Okay DAD I get it, now go!”

Alastor didn’t have time for this. He took the last drag of his cigarette and made for the elevator. He could only hope that Rosie would remember to lock the office behind her. Alastor made it downstairs in the lobby in record time. Charlie was in one of the booths by the front door, dressed in an outfit similar to yesterday except the color of her sweater today was crimson red. Despite himself, Alastor couldn’t help the smirk. “Trying to match me, darling?” he asked her.

Charlie smiled back. It was obvious that she was nervous. “Something like that.” She stood up and followed Alastor out the door. His long strides proved to be effective and Charlie had to double her pace to keep up with him.

“I always try and ensure your safety,” Alastor said as the two got in his car. “However, we are pressed for time and I’m going to have to drive a little aggressively tonight.”

Charlie waved her hand in dismissal. “Just drive!”

Alastor chuckled and started the car.

He was not exaggerating, as Charlie found out in the first few minutes of being on the road with him. It was as impressive as it was terrifying, and the terrifying parts came with a little exhilaration, too. Alastor knew the exact dimensions of his car, that much was obvious. He maneuvered between the lanes with expert precision and seemed to have good sense on which lanes were dead ends and which ones would keep going. His speed never went lower than forty-five and he never hit a red light.

“Holy cow!” Charlie cried when they reached the news station by 5:59. “That was incredible, Al! Wow! You really Fast and Furious’d it!”

He grinned. A little boost to his ego was always a nice thing. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, but thank you.”

“It’s a movie franchise.”

“Ah, I see. Come on, we can’t afford to slow down now.”

Charlie didn’t expect him to reach out and grab her hand, but she was delighted when he did so as he lead them through the big automatic doors. The lady at the front desk shriveled back in her seat when she saw Alastor’s tall frame walk into view. “We’re here for Killjoy,” Alastor announced.

“Yes, uh, yes,” the receptionist replied. She handed them guest badges. “Sh-she’d like y’all to go to the third floor hair and makeup and wait for her producer to come and get you when she’s ready to bring you on air.”

Charlie knew she had to be extra nice to compensate for the fear that Alastor struck in the poor lady. “Thanks so much,” Charlie smiled. “There’s one more of us joining, Rosie, she’ll be a little behind.”

While Charlie spoke to her, Alastor inspected the guest badges that she handed them. “These are poorly laminated,” he commented.

“Please don’t fire me,” the lady said.

Alastor looked at her. “You don’t work for me. But if you did, these would be better laminated.”

It was Charlie’s turn to grab Alastor’s hand. She tugged him towards the elevators. “Thanks so much, ma’am! You’re doing a great job and I love your eye shadow and your perfume is lovely and I hope you have a great evening!”

The two stumbled into the elevator. When the doors closed, Charlie was prepared to give Alastor a piece of her mind, surely he knew that he intimidated that poor lady. When Charlie turned her body in his direction, she found herself pushed back and then next thing she knew, she was pinned against the elevator wall and Alastor held her firmly in his strong grasp. He grinned down at her, his eyes alight with devious playfulness. “Oh, Charlie,” Alastor purred as he put his face in the crook of her neck, the side that didn’t have the hidden, secret hickey.

She was knocked off her footing and struggled to find it again, given that he held her up against the wall with his hands cupped on her ass. “You-we-uh! We don’t have time for this!”

“Why do you think I drove extra fast?”

“Al!” Charlie squeaked. He began to lave his tongue over her neck. She didn’t need to read his mind to know how badly he wanted to take a bite.

“You’ve got to learn how to be assertive,” Alastor whispered into her skin. “If you want me to stop, you better say so… before the elevator doors open.”

He nibbled the junction between her neck and her jaw and sneakily moved up to put her earlobe between his teeth. Charlie’s entire body was on fire; everything was so sensitive. “Stooop,” she moaned.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he chuckled. “Oh, how I wish I could hit the emergency stop button and fuck you right here in this elevator.”

“Ala—”

The elevator doors opened for the third floor. Two employees waited to enter the elevator and saw a tall man with a wolfish grin who stood next to a young blonde woman whose face was beet red. “Evening,” the tall man greeted. He exited the elevator and the young woman followed behind. “What the hell,” one of the employees said to the other. The other one shrugged.

Charlie couldn’t believe how inhumanely fast Alastor could move. Her mind was still spinning, her body still thought it was pressed into the elevator wall. “Y-you’re such a jerk!” she screeched. She cursed herself for the squeakiness in her tone.

Alastor laughed darkly. “If you can be assertive to me, you can be assertive to anyone. When we go on Killjoy’s show it’ll be cutthroat, darling. There’s no being nice or thoughtful. Adam will try to eat you alive.”

His words made her stomach sink with nerves. “I can be assertive,” Charlie said.

“I’m not convinced,” Alastor hummed. They walked down the hallway of the third floor on their way to hair and makeup. An idea struck Charlie. It was crazy, but she needed to act on it if she wanted to prove her point. She saw a supply closet that was to her right and she tried for the handle. It was unlocked. Alastor turned to her when he saw her lingered by a closet and raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

Charlie took a deep breath. “Get in the closet.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Radio Demon!” Charlie barked. She fought back her smile, which was not helping her sell her assertiveness. “In the closet! Please!”

Alastor, although unsure of what ideas Charlie had in her mind, was ready to play ball. His cheshire grin never faltered as he stalked towards her and went in the supply closet like she instructed. Charlie looked left, then right, then went in the closet and shut the door.

~*~*~*~

The supply closet was barely five feet wide, with a stocked shelves of multiple cleaning supplies, and a big yellow mop bucket that Alastor kicked as far away from them as he could. There was a light above them with a chain to pull, and once Charlie went in the closet with him, he turned the light on. There was only one light bulb and it was hazy yellow, but it was better than complete darkness.

The door clicked when Charlie shut it. Because of the mop bucket, they were very nearly chest-to-chest, very little wiggle room between them. Alastor’s amused grin never left his smug face. “My, my, my, what does my darling Charlie think she’ll do to me?” he teased.

She tried to be intimidating. She really did. But inside there were nothing but nervous butterflies. “I’ll show you what being assertive is,” Charlie growled. So far so good. “I want to give you a hickey.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, Miss Morningstar. You want to give me a hickey or you will give me a hickey?”

Damn him. Charlie curled her hands into fists. “I will give you a hickey.”

“Oh dear. Where?”

“Um, on your uh…” Charlie’s mind raced. Where could she give him a hickey? He would be able to get his shirt off but it would be a tight squeeze. “Unbutton your shirt,” Charlie ordered.

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

“Yes plea—yes, that’s all. Now.”

He chuckled as he undid his shirt buttons. He went halfway down until the beginning of his ab muscles were in view. Alastor couldn’t be described as soft and squishy; he was a wiry man, although he did have muscles, but wiry nonetheless. Charlie thought about his chest, but decided it wouldn’t be ideal. His shoulder?

“Shrug off your sleeves,” Charlie commanded.

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Please?”

“Charlotte.”

“Right, uh, I don’t care about what you want.” She couldn’t help but giggle at that. Alastor rolled his eyes; they had a lot of work to do. He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and exposed the tops of his shoulders, arms, and half of his chest to her. This was the first time he’d ever—ever—let someone tell him what to do, especially in such an intimate matter. It was equal parts intriguing as it was strange. Sometimes new experiences happened when you least expected them!

Charlie’s eyes fixed on his exposed upper torso. She was entranced. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen it, hell, she’d seen him naked now more than any other woman. Perhaps it was the danger of getting caught, or perhaps the power dynamic shift really made things different. Alastor was letting her take the lead and she knew this was her chance to explore how far he was willing to let her take the reigns. Charlie stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Alastor’s exposed neck. Where he was rough, she was gentle. She didn’t think she’d ever beat him in that department.

Her feather-light kisses made his skin sing to life. He was very aware of his erection and how unfortunate it would be if he went back out where people could see him. Surely Charlie knew that this would happen to him, that vixen. He steadied himself, unsure of what she’d do next. It was better for him to close his eyes, he decided. Alastor shut his eyes and concentrated on the pathway of her mouth. Her lips trailed from his neck to his chest, the ghost of her breath on his skin only heightening the unknown. Charlie kissed his chest and worked up towards his right bicep. She held onto his hips and steadied herself as she drew back her lips and bit him on the bicep.

Alastor, for the first time in his life, laughed from being tickled. He expected pain and when he received none, the sensation of Charlie’s teeth grazing his skin made him laugh. Oh, this was an unexpected delight.

“You’re not supposed to laugh,” Charlie said against his arm, her voice muffled. She tried to bite him again, this time turning her mouth to her side so she could get her molars in there.

Alastor only laughed harder. He couldn’t take it, he opened his eyes. The sight of his darling Charlie trying to bite him, the cautious innocence in her eyes. A prey was prey, a predator was a predator. They couldn’t be the same.

“Damn you,” Charlie cursed.

He grabbed her gently by the back of her head, his fingers threading through her soft golden locks, and guided her to look at him. “You did great,” he offered.

She pouted. “Don’t lie to me, please.”

“Okay, this isn’t your thing, dear.”

“B-but I bit you!”

“Yes, you did very well.”

Charlie groaned in frustration. “How am I going to go on the show, Al? How am I gonna defend myself against Adam of all people? He’s so, so, so good at bullshit! At being a bully! And look at me, I’m no good at this. I can’t even give you a hickey!”

“Arguing Adam and giving me a hickey aren’t comparable, dearest Charlie.”

“You know what I mean! I’m gonna embarrass myself on live television!”

Alastor took control of the situation with a kiss. His lips collided with hers and he kissed her forcefully on the mouth to keep her mind from going anywhere but here with him. “I believe in you,” Alastor whispered against her mouth before running his tongue along her bottom lip. “You can do this.”

She whimpered into his mouth when he kissed her deeper. She reached her hands up and ran them all over the expanse of his exposed torso. This was one of the first times that Alastor let her touch him like this, when he allowed her to freely explore his skin. She took in every detail that she could, like the softness of his skin and how it contrasted against the twitch of muscle underneath. When Charlie’s hands reached his back, she felt the smoothness turn turbulent into raised tissue. Was that scarring? Come to think of it, she’d never seen the back of him. He always faced her when he was naked so he could lavish her, just like he did now. She tried to press her fingertips in the rough skin to blindly feel what exactly it was.

Chomp.

Charlie cried out with a surprised whimper when Alastor bit her lip in warning. She broke their kiss and he smirked down at her, knowing full well that he played dirty. “Al!” Charlie chided.

He shrugged his shirt back on and began to button himself up. “I think you’ve had your fun exploring. We should get going.”

As much as she wanted to go out and get the show over with, now her thoughts were clouded over with fantasy. It was so inappropriate for them to do anything intimate in a supply closet (well, more intimate than they’ve already been), yet the idea thrilled Charlie at the same time. She knew she wasn’t thinking clearly and she needed a blast of cold water to the face. Perhaps it was because thinking about Alastor was distracting her from thinking about what she didn’t want to do, which was going on live television with a man who had a vendetta against her entire family.

Or, you know, it could just be that she was horny.

“I’ll get you later,” Charlie swore. This time, she didn’t have to fake her assertive voice. This time, she meant it.

Alastor grinned. He was fully dressed now, even his hair was patted back into place. “I’ll be waiting, darling.”

Charlie tried the door. It was locked. She tried again. Again. Again. And again. “Oh no,” she said. Her eyes doubled in size. “Oh no! Al!”

The Radio Demon stared at the door handle to the closet. “Do you have your phone?”

Charlie checked her pockets. “It’s in your car! I must have left it! What about you?”

“It’s at home.”

“Why?!”

“I didn’t think I’d need it, I don’t like taking that wretched thing with me every day.”

Charlie looked like she was about to throw up. “What do we do?!”

Alastor was never one to panic. It wasn’t his style. He was much more an “accept my fate and live with it” type of person. “This is one of the few times that I think that Rosie will actually kill us,” Alastor said. Despite the panicked expression on Charlie’s face, Alastor couldn’t help his grin. “How comical!”

~*~*~*~

“Tom Trench, nice to meet you finally.”

Adam didn’t bother to wipe the cheeto dust off of his hands before shaking hands with the news anchor and Katie Killjoy’s co host. “Back at ya, bro,” Adam said. “What’s it like working with a bombshell blonde every weeknight, eh? You dog.”

Tom didn’t expect such a frat boy question from the potential future mayor. “Oh, uh, Killjoy and I don’t really get along,” he said.

Adam and Lute exchanged looks. “You don’t have to get along to get freaky,” Adam grinned. Tom made a quick excuse to leave and scurried away to his desk. Adam laughed and rolled his eyes. “It’s always the weak ones who get a time slot on national television, isn’t it? Sheesh, ask a guy a simple question and he takes off running.”

“Pathetic,” Lute agreed. “We’re on air in ten. Are you ready?”

“Oh totes, totes.” Adam grinned and wiped the cheeto dust off on his pant legs. “Where’s the two nun sisters? Or should I call them Nun One and Nun Two?”

“Right behind you,” a new voice growled.

Adam swerved around and saw that the older sister, Sera, looked at him with a displeased expression. He knew there was no way to take back what he said, so it was time to downplay it. “Sera, c’mon, I’m just playing,” Adam chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with being a nun, shit, if I weren’t who I was I’d consider becoming one.”

“Only women can be nuns,” Sera said through her teeth.

“See? More odds stacked against me.”

Sera was a tall woman, potentially one of the few women in the city who could look at Carmilla Carmine eye-to-eye. She didn’t have to use much force to grab Adam by the arm and jerk him in the corner of the room to have a word with him. “Lute, keep an eye out for Emily while we chat,” Sera said.

Lute scoffed. “You don’t give me orders.”

“Go on Lute, keep an eye out. Mom and dad need to talk,” Adam said.

Sera ignored his stupid joke. The two stepped over to the corner of the waiting room where guests waited to be called in by the producer. “Adam, look, I agreed to partner up with you because your name and voters could really help our charity,” Sera began. Her voice was like a high school principal and Adam was the delinquent she called in to have a talk with. “But your attitude and shenanigans are a direct reflection on Project Heaven, something Emily and I have worked on for many years.”

“I hear you,” Adam said. His eyes, however, were on his phone screen. “Look, Sera, I can’t help who I am. Y’know? I can’t help that I’m one of the most lovable Evans in my family. People want me to be mayor, isn’t that crazy? I didn’t get to where I am now by not being me. My authentic self, as they say in therapy, right?”

Sera stared at him. “You are not acting the way you would act in front of other people,” she said.

“Well yeah, I change it up a bit depending on my audience. You wouldn’t want me saying fuck in front of a baby, would you?”

“Look, if you fuck up your election and drag my project down with it, there will be consequences. Don’t make me regret teaming up with you.”

Adam grinned. He waited a few moments to see if Sera was done speaking. When her eyes softened a bit, foolishly thinking that her words had an impact on him, Adam pounced. “Listen, I totally get where you’re coming from. But let’s not pretend that your Project Heaven was a joke before I stepped in and took it under my wing to promote it. How many people have y’all actually convinced to not sin? Huh? Obviously not enough. And don’t think that I don’t have leverage, I know your sister, aka Nun Two, doesn’t even fucking realize that you’re not a fully functioning rehabilitation center. Does she know that what you’re doing isn’t rehab, it’s just having one big “come to Jesus” talk? Probably not. I get it, why waste time and resources on these pathetic fucks of the city who just want to abuse drugs. I’m with you, sister. But to call yourself a rehab? Yikes.”

Sera was stunned speechless. Adam knew that she would be and he grinned in satisfaction. He loved a good fight, both verbal and physical.

“Fucker,” Sera muttered under her breath.

What a shame. He thought she’d have more firepower to argue with him. “Just go on the show and talk up your program. As long as it’s Project Heaven and not that fucking Morningstar program, I’m happy.”

~*~*~*~

“Okay, I think I once read that the door is its weakest at the handle and I think if I kick it, I might be able to break down this door.”

Alastor was torn between a “you can do this, honey” and “please don’t try this ridiculous idea, honey” and didn’t know which one to say to Charlie. It had been at least five minutes since they got stuck in the closet and the clock was ticking. Thanks to Alastor’s handy wristwatch, they knew that it was 6:07 and Katie’s show just started. They had no idea when Killjoy planned to bring them out as guests. Rosie was probably blowing up their phones, no telling where she was directed to.

“Press yourself against the wall, Al. I need as much room as I can get,” Charlie ordered. She tried to back up, but the mop bucket proved to be a nuisance. Charlie knew she needed momentum if she was going to get the door kicked.

“Perhaps I should be the one who kicks it,” Alastor said.

“No, there’s not enough room for us to move around. I’ve got a direct sight. I just need to focus. Plus, you’re wearing your nice loafers.”

She was right about that. “So kind of you to think about them,” Alastor said.

Charlie rolled her head side to side and rolled her shoulders a few times. “Okay, cover your ears.”

“How loud do you think it’ll be?”

“Pretty loud! I’m about to karate kick this door down!”

“Have you ever kicked anything down? Or are you mainly going off of what you’ve seen on TV?”

“I’ll have you know that I was in soccer for two years in middle school and I kicked a lot of balls, mister. And sure, I had to sit on the bench half the season because I kept saying ‘sorry’ for stealing the ball, but when I had it, I kicked it! Now press yourself against the wall and hush!”

Oh sure, now she’s assertive. Not when she’s trying to gnaw into my shoulder, Alastor thought to himself, although not without a hint of amusement. Charlie backed up as much as the supply closet would allow. She put her hands up in guard as if the door would throw hands back at her. “You’re hesitating,” Alastor pointed out.

“I-I’m thinking of my battle cry!”

“For a door?”

Charlie scrunched her nose. “I’m coming for you, Adam!” she exclaimed. She lurched forward and kicked with her left leg. The moment her foot connected with the door, it swung open. Not because Charlie kicked it, but because someone opened it from the outside.

The Morningstar woman didn’t expect the door to open and was not braced for the lack of impact. She fell forward and screamed, which caused Alastor to reach out for her in a moment of total panic. However, Alastor had such little footing in the closet that he ended falling as well—right on top of Charlie.

”Oomph!”

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I thought I heard voices coming from the closet, I was right!”

Charlie looked up and saw an old pair of converse sneakers. She followed the shoes up and saw a young woman looking down at her with big eyes. She seemed concerned and bent down to lend Charlie a hand. Alastor got up without help and shooed her hand away and pulled Charlie up by himself. “Wh-who? Where did you come from?” Charlie asked.

The young woman gently shook her head. “I’m sorry, I had to use the bathroom on the lobby level and I got confused which hair and makeup room I needed to go to. What floor are we on?”

“Three,” Alastor and Charlie said together.

“Dang it, wrong one. I’m so sorry. Are you two okay?”

“Peachy,” Alastor answered.

“Fine, thanks,” Charlie smiled. “Thank you for saving us! Are you a temp here?”

“Oh, no, that’s so funny you’d think so!” the young woman laughed. “I’m actually here for Katie Killjoy’s show tonight! Me and my big sister are going to talk about our Project Heaven!” All of the blood left Charlie’s face. She wasn’t like Alastor who was practiced in the art of pretend. The woman noticed her go pale. “Oh no, maybe you need to sit down. Your lips are white! Should I call someone?”

It was Charlie’s turn to shake her head. “Are you Emily?” she asked with a faint whisper.

The smile was response enough. “Why, yes! Yes I am!”

~*~*~*~

“Good morning New Orleans, I’m Katie Killjoy.”

“And I’m Tom Trench.”

“And this is the evening news! Thanks for tuning in, we’ve got a special, focused program tonight with our special guest, Adam Evans. The next hour is sure to be informative as well as shocking from our mayor candidate. Let’s bring him on, shall we?”

Adam expected an applause track as he walked out to the studio and in front of the cameras. It was utter silence. He cleared his throat and took his seat next to Tom Trench. “Thank you, Katie. Tom. Happy to be here,” Adam said.

From behind the cameras, Lute and Sera watched like hawks. Sera was starting to get anxious; where was her sister? Emily said she needed to use the bathroom, did she get lost? She often got lost. They were due on in sixteen minutes and Emily was nowhere to be seen.

“So Adam, let’s find out who the real you is,” Tom said. “What was your childhood like?”

“Absolutely, Tom.” Adam looked directly into the camera. “My childhood embodied two things: freedom, and the Lord.”

Sera turned away from the camera. She couldn’t do it. She should have kicked Adam out when he first walked through their doors. The temptation of a sponsor was too great. Emily was so excited that Project Heaven might take off. They were so close to shutting their doors. Yet, at what cost did Adam bring them salvation?

This isn’t what Sera wanted. Project Heaven was just supposed to be a place people could go to speak about their problems and get gentle guidance. Emily thought it was more than what it really was, she thought they were really transforming their clients into reformed citizens. Sera knew better. They were just a glorified program where people could talk about their problems. They didn’t solve them.

From what Adam had said, Charlie Morningstar and her ragtag crew sound like they want to fix people. Sera was unsure and suspicious of such ambitions. Could these people really be saved? They were sinners. They lived their entire lives in debauchery. Sera didn’t think they could resolve to change their ways. Project Heaven was safe. It wasn’t a promise to change a sinner, it was just an opportunity to give them a place to vent. Charlie’s program sounded like an endless uphill battle. Was this Morningstar woman brave or delusional? Or, perhaps, she was both.

“And that’s why I mix the peanut butter and jelly in a bowl first and then put it on my bread,” Adam said. Sera snapped back to reality. She wasn’t sure how Adam went from speaking about his childhood to his sandwich habits, but she didn’t want to know.

“We’re going to go to our first commercial break, don’t go anywhere! When we come back, we’ll delve into the ideals that Adam Evans has for our city if he’s elected mayor,” Tom Trench said.

As soon as the cameras were not rolling, Lute walked over to speak with Adam. Sera knew that after they came back on the air that it would be their turn to come onto the show, and still no Emily. “Come on, don’t fail me now,” Sera whispered to herself.

~*~*~*~

Rosie was nervous. The receptionist at the front desk handed her the badge and told her the hair and makeup room on the third floor, yet Rosie didn’t see Alastor or Charlie there. She wondered if she was told the right spot and was assured by several employees that this was indeed the spot Katie Killjoy wanted them to wait in. Rosie tried to figure out how the hell she beat those two when they had such a head start on her. The only explanation she could think of was that they hadn’t arrived yet, but after another five minutes, Rosie ran to the windows that overlooked the parking lot.

Low and behold, there was Alastor’s car in a parking spot.

“Fuck,” Rosie said. “Where the hell are they?”

“Hey, we’re ready for y’all on set if you want to follow me to the elevators,” a temp said. The young man looked around. “Um, where are the other two?”

“They’re coming,” Rosie assured. “Let’s go, lead the way.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m the Radio Demon’s producer, don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”

The temp wasn’t about to argue. As he lead the way to the elevators, Rosie hoped that maybe Alastor and Charlie were already on the same floor as Katie Killjoy and there was a big mix up. She doubted it, and the sinking pit in her stomach only grew bigger.

~*~*~*~

“And now we’re going to bring on someone very dear to Adam Evans and his campaign. He has backed a non-profit organization by the name of Project Heaven, is that correct, Adam?”

“That’s correct, Tom. See, I’ve always felt sorry for those who are less fortunate than me, and I’ve always known that I wanted to help out those who don’t have the shit I have. I found Project Heaven and the two young ladies who run it are some of the sweetest people I’ve ever met,” Adam grinned. “When I’m mayor, I’d like to encourage the people of this city to volunteer and look into Project Heaven, to really help out their community. But don’t let me talk all about it! Please welcome the two co-founders and sisters, Sera and Emily!”

Sera felt lightheaded as she walked in front of the cameras. Katie, Tom, and Adam eyed her. “Hello,” Sera said with a slightly shaky voice. “I’m Sera, nice to meet you.” She took her seat next to Adam.

“Why hello,” Tom said. “Where’s your sister, Emily?”

Katie couldn’t help the grin when she sensed something was amiss. “Yes, where is Emily?”

“Umm, well, she—”

Several things happened at once. There were multiple entrances into the newsroom. From the west wing came Rosie, who instantly made eyes with Lute. From the east wing came Emily, who entered the newsroom with a big grin on her face. “I’m here!” Emily proclaimed.

Sera sighed in relief. “Oh, Emily! I was so worr—”

However, the one who rounded the corner and into the lights and camera and on national television was not Emily. It was the Radio Demon who grinned ear to ear and the Morningstar woman.

“SURPRISE, BITCH!” Charlie told Adam as soon as she and Alastor stepped into view. She elbowed Alastor in the arm and whispered, “How was that?”

“That was great,” Alastor answered without moving his lips.

Adam stood up from his seat. His nemesis and the daughter of his nemesis was only five feet away from him. “What the hell are you doing here? Who let you in here?”

“Security!” Tom Trench said into his mic.

“Security won’t be needed,” Katie assured. “I brought them on myself. This is going to be a healthy debate, a back and forth that will allow us to air out our issues.”

Tom glared at Katie. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t need your permission when my name comes first, Tom.”

Sera was in disbelief. She didn’t think she’d see Charlie Morningstar in the flesh, not after everything Adam had said about her. Charlie promptly took her seat next to Sera, while Alastor sat on the other side of her. The two seemed pleased with themselves. “But what about Emily?” Sera asked.

“Oh don’t worry, here I am!” Emily laughed. She skipped to the table and the producer put out an extra seat for her. Emily squeezed between Sera and Charlie. “I love your braid, by the way!” Emily told Charlie.

“Awww thank you!” Charlie smiled. “And I love your dress!”

“Aww, thanks!”

“Aww-oooh-wee-hee-hee,” Adam mocked in a high-pitched baby voice. “We’re here to discuss business, ladies, not our skin care routines.” Sera narrowed her eyes at him. He could talk to her that way, but no way would she let him talk to Emily like that. Adam put his fists on the table. “Not cool of you to let these two on and ruin my spotlight, Killjoy. But if it’s a fight these two want, it’s a fight they’ll get. What’s your first question?”

Before Katie answered, the sound of Alastor’s sinister chuckle filled the air. The cameras began to short-circuit and the film crew tried to figure out what was wrong with their equipment. “It appears we’re having technical difficulties, we’ll need just a moment,” Katie told the camera. Alastor finished laughing. The signal returned. “Actually, we’re back on,” Katie said. She was a bit confused but decided to roll with it. “Alastor, this is your first time appearing live on television in over ten years. You’re most known for your voice on your Radio Demon program, but this is certainly a treat for viewers to actually see you on their TV screens. What changed your mind about coming onto our show today?”

Alastor found his Radio Demon persona and settled into it rather comfortably. “Well Killjoy, that’s easy to answer,” he said with his signature grin. “I wanted to be here, in person, and see Charlie Morningstar tear Adam Evans apart limb by limb on the air.”

“Fuck you!” Adam swore. He knew that was a bad idea and that the producers would have to edit that out.

Charlie reached under the table and found Alastor’s hand. He waited for her hand and laced his fingers with hers. She squeezed it as tightly as she possibly could, and he scooted so his leg was pressed against her own.

Adam was caught off guard and visibly shaken by their intrusion.

I can do this, Charlie thought to herself. On the camera, she grinned.

I’m ready for this.

Notes:

Heck, I adored writing this chapter. The previous chapter had a lot of leg work to build into this one, and this one builds beautifully into the next one, AND THIS STORY IS STARTING TO COME TO A CLOSE AND I'M SO EXCITED AND AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

The running prompt I had going into this chapter OTHER than Angel bringing out the sex appeal in Lucifer (lol) was that Alastor and Charlie get stuck in a closet. And as much as I wanted to make an excuse for sexy time between them, in my heart of hearts I knew that it would be better to lean into the humor. You'll get spice before the end of this series, I promise you. I PROMISE YOU. But the idea of Charlie trying to be assertive and trying and failing to give Alastor a hickey on his shoulder was much more entertaining to me. I also feel like at this point Charlie is leaning into her confidence and she can take Adam on herself, just like in episode eight of the show. I don't think she had a chance to ever kicking the closet door down, so sorry Charlie xD

As always, thank you so much for the comments, kudos, and support! I'm so happy to bring y'all another chapter :)

Chapter 20

Summary:

Charlie and Alastor duke it out against Adam live on Katie Killjoy's television show.

Tensions were never higher inside of the recording studio. Katie Killjoy couldn’t remember the last time she felt so overjoyed. She considered actually thanking Rosie for the suggestion, although her ego would never allow her to show someone unprompted gratitude. This was so much better television than sixty minutes of Adam stroking his own cock. With the Radio Demon and Charlie Morningstar, there was a chance for another fist fight. Hatred and tension. Visible discomfort from Sera and Emily. And the cherry on top? The daggers that Tom Trench side-eyed to her from being blindsided.

The main objective now, of course, was to tame Adam Evans before he got too excited. It was time to be the moderator of this grudge match. “Okay, okay,” Katie said. “Everyone is going to get their chance to speak. My first question was for Alastor, however, moving onto Charlie… why hasn’t your father endorsed your program like Adam has endorsed Project Heaven?”

Yikes, right for the jugular, Charlie thought to herself. What was she supposed to say? That’s a great question, Killjoy, the truth is that my father thinks I’m wasting my time and he doesn’t believe in me. Next question?

Before Charlie could answer, Adam interjected. “Because daddio already tried to open up his own rehabilitation center and failed miserably,” Adam said.

“You knew about the Beautiful Ones Project?” Charlie asked.

“Duh,” Adam said. “Beautiful Disaster was what it was.”

“And you never once thought to throw it back in my face?”

“I’m doing it now, aren’t I? I saw that train wreck happen in real time sweetie, I was there for it when they announced the closure and pulled the funding.” Adam grinned, pleased with himself.

Alastor wished that he was closer to Adam and cursed that the three women were between them. If he had been sitting next to Adam, he would have choked him out for calling his Charlie “sweetie” right in front of him. Alastor reminded himself to keep his cool. This was his chance to prove to every viewer at home watching that he would keep his calculated composure. There wouldn’t be a repeat of the Vox News fist fight. He couldn’t ruin this for Charlie and start a fight—not in the first segment, anyway.

Charlie addressed the camera. “I can’t tell you why Lucifer doesn’t want to endorse my program, other than for the longest time I’ve resisted it,” she said with an even tone. “When I first started my project, I wanted to do it on my own merit and my own hard work. I’ve said as much when I went on Alastor’s show. I didn’t want people to think that I’ve taken advantage of my dad’s money.”

“Fair enough,” Katie said. “So you’re not taking money from your father even now?”

“No.”

“Ha! Okay princess. But you are taking advantage of his fucking security and resources,” Adam countered. “How many self-made projects can afford personal drivers and full-time surveillance, huh?”

Emily leaned into Sera’s ear and whispered, “Can he keep saying the F-word on camera?”

Alastor took the lead on this one. “She wouldn’t need security 24/7 if there weren’t people in power actively putting a target on her back,” he remarked. “We can thank you for that, Evans. As well as Vox News.”

“The Radio Demon has a point,” Katie said.

“No, he doesn’t,” Tom countered. “Adam is right, Charlie is using a resource that isn’t available to most people and it’s because of her father.”

Alastor grinned. Now they were getting into arguing territory. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was argue. Tom Trench was such a pathetic opponent. “Are you suggesting that Charlie shouldn’t use a resource to ensure her own safety and the safety of others? We have had vandalism, a brick thrown through the window, and multiple intruders since starting this project, I think it’s more than fair that Charlie accept Lucifer’s help with security,” Alastor said. He narrowed his eyes at Tom Trench. “Also, the question posed at Charlie was if she used her father’s money. Her father’s money and her father’s resources are not the same thing.”

Tom sneered at the Radio Demon. His grin was unsettling. “Why did the Beautiful Ones Project fail?” he asked.

“The city pulled my father’s funding,” Charlie answered. “Past that, I couldn’t tell you. It was a long time ago.”

“And do you worry that the city will pull the funding on your project?”

“Sure, that’s always a worry.”

From across the room, Lute shouted, “She’s not even funded by the city yet!”

Katie glared past the cameras. “Let’s bring on Adam’s campaign manager, Lute. Ladies, make room.” Lute stormed out in front of the camera. Adam grinned when she took her seat between him and Sera. Alastor internally swore. Now it was Charlie, Emily, Sera, and Lute who was between him and clawing out Adam’s eyes. Everyone was squished at the guest table, but the cameras managed to capture all of them on screen. “Now, as you were saying,” Katie said once Lute sat down.

“I said that she’s not funded by the city yet,” Lute repeated. There was a snarl in her tone. “What we’ve got is a legitimate rehabilitation project that’s been well-established in this city for over a year. Charlie Morningstar and her little project is a joke. She’s teamed up with her play-pretend nurse, Vaggie, and the two think they can get certified therapists on their team.”

Emily gasped. She had no idea that Lute could be so mean. She was so nice the day they walked into their program, how could she say such terrible things now? Sera patted her shoulder to calm her down.

Lute threw the first punch, now it was time for Adam to deliver the final blow. He looked at Charlie from across the table with a haughty smirk. “I’m not sure what your deal is, girly. I can’t tell if you’re trying to follow in your father’s footsteps or if you’re trying to make a name for yourself that has nothing to do with mommy and daddy. But you’re over your head and you should quit while you still have a chance. Don’t be like Lucifer and get yourself shut down. I know it sucks, but trust me, it’ll be much less embarrassing to quit now than to have the place shut down on you.”

Charlie’s face flushed in anger. “Aww, you’re embarrassing her,” Lute chuckled.

“Stop!” Emily suddenly cried. “You two are being so unkind! So, so, so unkind! We should hear Charlie out and listen to her program! She’s just trying to help people, just like us at Project Heaven!”

“Emily, calm down,” Sera said with a firm voice.

Alastor squeezed Charlie’s hand from under the table and leaned in towards the camera. “I’ve read up on Project Heaven. It’s quite a project, I must say. But I think it’s misleading to call it a rehabilitation center, don’t you? After all, you don’t actually help people change their ways, you just accept people who are thinking about going down a dark path and counsel them. What about the people who have already sinned? Do you turn your backs on them?”

Emily stared at Alastor like he told her that her puppy died. Her mouth was in an “o” shape and she was visibly upset. “What are you talking about? Of course we’d help people in need!”

Alastor grinned. “But you haven’t so far, have you? How long have you been open? Lute said over a year. That’s over a year of turning away those who are truly in need.”

Emily looked at her older sister for help. After all, it was Sera who handled their patients and took their information and paperwork. Sera would be able to tell him otherwise! “Tell him he’s wrong,” she said, her bottom lip quivering.

Charlie felt terrible when she saw Emily so upset. She had just met her twenty minutes ago, but she seemed genuinely sweet. Her conviction to bury Adam six feet under faltered—what if in order to do that, she had to bury Emily with him? It seemed to Charlie that Emily really did care about Project Heaven if she was getting this choked up over it.

She’s just like you, Charlie thought softly. Her chest tightened.

“Project Heaven helps those who are struggling with going down a bad path and we lead them to the light,” Sera said. She was so much better at these things than Emily, she always kept her cool.

“Have you ever accepted someone who already went down the bad path?” Alastor challenged. “What about those who have been on a bad path for years and years and are seeking retribution for their sins?”

“Oh, you mean someone like you?” Sera countered.

“Exactly, someone just like me,” Alastor grinned.

There was a long pause. The burning anger in Sera’s eyes was answer enough. The knowing smirk on Alastor’s face said more than words could.

“A sinner is a sinner!” Lute spat. “The relapse percentage in this city is high for a reason. People don’t want to change their ways, end of story. Sera and Emily at Project Heaven are doing society a favor by helping people before they fall to corruption.”

“And once they do fall to corruption?” Charlie asked.

“Lost causes,” Adam answered. “Sad but true. Case closed. It’s in the best interest of the city and our people to focus on those who haven’t given into weakness and fallen to their sins.”

Katie knew she needed to usher this along. “You heard it from our mayor candidate, New Orleans. Now, onto the nex—”

“NO!” Charlie suddenly yelled. She stood up from her seat and jumped up on her chair. “We cannot forsake those of us who are in need of help! Real help! There are people who need guidance in recovery from their addictions, who want to change their ways, but they need our help! Everyone deserves a chance at redemption!”

Adam and Lute laughed. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that hell was forever?” Adam mocked.

Charlie didn’t waste her time to glare down at him. Instead, she focused her sights on the camera in front of her. Charlie Morningstar looked into the eyes of every viewer at home watching. “I’ll never give up on you if you need help,” Charlie promised. “You are worth help. You are worth the effort to change. I don’t care about your past, I just want to help you in the here and now and help you build your future. I don’t ever want to give up on the people of my city.”

Emily stood up on her chair. She gave Charlie a nervous but excited smile. “Emily, get down!” Sera hissed.

“She’s right,” Emily said. “We can’t cherry-pick who we want to help, Sera! We have to help everyone!”

“Emily, get down right now!”

“Why are we partnered with Adam, anyway? Charlie’s program is in our better interest! We should combine our resources and help her!”

Charlie couldn’t help it, she pulled Emily into a hug. It was a bit wobbly while they were on the chairs, but Alastor reached out and held onto Charlie’s ankle to stabilize her. “Thank you,” Charlie said. “That means so much to me.”

Emily’s eyes shined with excitement. “You have so many ideas! I can’t wait to hear them!”

“Hold on, does this mean Project Heaven and Charlie Morningstar are teaming up?” Katie asked. “My, what does that mean for Adam Evans? Will he really back an organization that is partnering up with his rival?”

Adam slammed his hand on the table. The noise made Emily jump, which made her lose balance and Charlie quickly caught her. However, by making sure Emily was secure, Charlie lost her own balance and started to fall off the chair. The camera caught Rosie’s gasp of horror, but Alastor was prepared for this. He already had his chair scooted out and successfully caught Charlie in his arms, bridal style.

“Careful,” he smirked.

Charlie knew that there were cameras on her and hundreds if not thousands of people watching at home, including her father. She couldn’t resist melting into Alastor’s strong arms and the goofy grin that broke out over her face. “Nice catch.”

Alastor winked so fast that she wasn’t sure that the cameras caught it.

“That’s it, I’m over this fucking bullshit!” Adam roared. He stood up from his seat and flipped the chair behind him. Lute stood up as well and put a hand on his chest to hold him back, but Adam’s hands were already in fists. “I’m not going to stand here while these two high school sweethearts try to sabotage my air time! You two are gross! Fucking disgusting! You make me sick!”

“They’re a cute couple and you’re a doo-doo head!” Emily yelled. She covered her mouth as soon as she said it. “Oh my goodness, was that too far?”

Sera knew that the situation was spiraling out of control. “Adam, sit down,” she commanded. “We’re not joining Morningstar’s program, Project Heaven couldn’t be the furthest thing from what she wants to achieve. Sit down.”

“But Sera!” Emily protested. “How could you say that? We have to help everyone in need, not just the people who haven’t yet fallen to their vices! What about changing this city for the better?

“You don’t understand what all of that takes,” Sera said. “I thought since I was older, this was my load to shoulder. It’s not an easy decision.”

Katie ordered the camera to zoom in on Emily’s face so the viewers at home could really see the look of betrayal in her eyes. That would get ratings, alright. That would have everyone talking.

“I’m not a child for you to protect,” Emily uttered. “This isn’t right.”

“It doesn’t matter about what’s right!” Adam exclaimed. “Don’t you get it? You naive little girl, you have no fucking idea how the real world works! And neither do you, Charlie! God, you women are so fucking frustrating, I swear, I’m so lucky I don’t have to put up with you on a daily basis. Nobody wants to save a ship that’s already sunk, period, end of story. Why should we give a shit about people who made their choices and are living with the consequences? Why not focus on the people who haven’t fucked their lives up, huh?”

As Adam spoke, he moved closer to Charlie and Alastor. Lute kept herself between them and it seemed that she was using force to push him back. Alastor hadn’t let go of Charlie and still held her bridal style. As Adam stalked forward, he set her down and put her to the opposite side of him so Adam would have to get past him to get to her. So much was said in such little time. The bomb was ticking. The explosion was nearing its time and it was all happening live on the air.

Charlie wasn’t afraid. Not at all. “Why won’t you help them, Adam?” she asked. “What makes you think your life is worth more than theirs?”

“Because I’m better, plain and simple,” Adam smirked. “Nobody gives a fuck about the sinners of this city.”

“Adam, no!” Lute exclaimed.

Charlie looked away from Adam and straight at the camera. She took front and center on the televisions at home. “You hear that, New Orleans?” Charlie asked. “You heard it from Adam Evans himself. He doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

It was too late when Adam realized what he said. He put the nail in his own coffin. There was no way he could go back on what he said, all of it was live. Lute looked at him with a mixture of horror, anger, and frustration. There was no coming back from this.

Then there was no reason to hold back. If he was going down, he was going down his way—swinging. Adam pushed Lute out of his way, sending her to the floor. The only one who kept him from Alastor and Charlie was Lute, and with her out of the way, Adam had a direct path to the two people he despised the most. “I’m going to enjoy this,” was all he muttered before he launched himself at them.

Emily screamed. Rosie cried out. Alastor braced himself, ready to deflect Adam’s punch and redirect his momentum so he wouldn’t hit Charlie. However, when Adam came flying at the Radio Demon for a punch, it wasn’t Alastor he came into contact with.

Charlie was taken back to the night in the bar when Valentino threw a punch at Angel. It was that same moment of flight or fight, the adrenaline screaming in her ear to make a decision and make it fast. Just like with Angel, Charlie knew that she couldn’t allow Adam to hit the person she cared about. Except, this wasn’t Angel. This was Alastor. This was the man she fell so hard for in such a short amount of time, and Charlie knew that this was a bad idea but she also knew that she wouldn’t regret it.

How could she ever regret defending Alastor? He was the man she l-o-v-e-d even if he wouldn’t let her say it.

Time slowed. To the outside eyes, it passed by lightning fast, but to Charlie, everything slowed down in crystal clarity. She remembered the night at the bar when Valentino hit her; she was so stupid to just throw herself between him and Angel. She knew it, there was no denying it. She remembered when Alastor came to her rescue and hit Valentino back, then after Val left with Angel, Alastor picked her up and took her to his home. Neither of them had any idea that night was the beginning of something more between them.

What was it that Alastor told her that night? The sweet words that she didn’t think he was capable of?

“Never apologize for standing up for what’s right.”

Those words meant more to her than he realized. All the late nights when she fell asleep at her desk at the center, the double shifts she worked to make enough money for repairs, the breakdowns in the shower she’d have when she wondered if she could really make this work. All she wanted was someone to tell her that she was doing the right thing. Finally, someone had said it.

And there was no way in hell that Charlie would let that someone get hit by Adam Evans.

CRACK!

The sound of bone on bone resembled a strike of lightning, it was so loud. Charlie met Adam’s incoming punch with a deflection of her own, by palm-striking his fist downwards and out of Alastor’s way. Adam didn’t have time to resist the change of direction and before he could react to Charlie’s palm-strike, she already had her other hand up and in a fist. It was like releasing a taut bow string and firing an arrow—Charlie punched Adam square in the face.

He fell back and hit the floor.

Everyone gasped in collective shock… did Charlie Morningstar actually have the power and strength to send Adam to the floor?! How was that possible?

“THAT’S FOR MY FATHER!” Charlie bellowed. She kicked Adam in the stomach. “AND THAT’S FOR ME AND AL!”

Alastor broke out of his shocked spell first. He grabbed Charlie and brought her closer to him just in case Adam would get up. There was no such movement from him. Adam Evans was knocked out cold.

Katie and Tom were on their feet. “This appears to be our cue to conclude the program!” Katie exclaimed. “I can’t believe my eyes! I can’t believe what’s unfolded here tonight, can you, Tom?”

“Obviously not you fucking bitch!” Tom snapped. “We’re already paying the fine for all the F-bombs we’ve dropped, may as well say fuck as often as we want!”

“Fuck!” Rosie cheered from off screen.

Katie addressed the camera. “I’m Katie Killjoy, and there will be live updates as we move this along. We’ve run out of time, but thank you for watching and getting the inside information with us, Killjoy and Trench.”

~*~*~*~

“Come on, pick up…”

“Hi! You’ve reached Charlie Morningstar, so sorry I missed your call, I’m super-duper busy! Please leave a message after the b—”

Lucifer hung up the phone. He didn’t need to leave another voicemail, he already left her fourteen. He couldn’t believe what he had just seen on the news. What everyone had just seen on the news! Charlie—his daughter, his baby girl—just dismantled Adam limb from limb live on the air. Lucifer was stunned after seeing the program and he didn’t snap out of his haze until Wheel of Fortune started. Lucifer had to watch on the television as Adam went in for a punch to Alastor (one that he would have been fine if it had hit) yet instead he saw his precious daughter intercept the punch. Charlie knocked Adam out cold with one punch.

Lucifer put his phone down. Charlie was fine, she would call him when she could. He had to calm himself down and not worry so much about her. Instead, he allowed himself a chance to smile in fatherly pride. “That’s my girl,” he whispered.

~*~*~*~

While Lucifer was trying to call Charlie, Vaggie was also trying to call her. She stopped leaving voicemails after her fifth try, she didn’t have the fourteen in her like Lucifer. Vaggie was at work when the interview happened and she had to kick out her client so she could glue herself to the TV. Vaggie knew that Charlie and Alastor were going on Katie Killjoy’s show, of course Charlie told her, but she had no idea that it would be so intense.

She felt a mixture of guilt and happiness. Guilt that she couldn’t be there to support Charlie, and happiness at how well the show went. Did it end in absolute chaos? Oh, undoubtedly. But Adam sunk his ship. He said that he “didn’t give a fuck” about the sinners of the city. Unfortunately for Adam, everyone was a sinner.

“Hey Charlie, it’s Vaggie. I know you’re probably vibrating off the walls from adrenaline, but just shoot me a text or give me a call when you can, okay? I’m sorry I keep leaving voicemails. You did great, I’m proud of you.”

What was the harm in a sixth voicemail?

~*~*~*~

It was like someone pressed fast forward on Charlie’s life from the moment they left the news station and until they got back home at the apartment. She remembered Rosie coming up and hugging them both, Rosie holding Charlie’s head in her hands and asking her repeatedly if she was alright until Alastor nearly pried her off of her. Adam was escorted off the stage by the production crew, Lute swore that this wasn’t the last they’d see of them, and Katie Killjoy’s uproar of laughter filled the air.

All Charlie knew was that she had to get out of there. Emily and Sera said things to her, she looked at them as they spoke, but she couldn’t fathom what it was they told her. She couldn’t relax until Alastor had her in his car and he was pulling out of the parking lot. Charlie saw her phone in the seat where she had left it; fifteen missed calls and endless texts from Vaggie, Angel, Niffty, and of course, her father. No doubt that they had seen the mess unfold on the news.

None of it mattered.

She peered over at Alastor, who kept his eyes on the road ahead, and noted that he white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Al?” she asked. “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” he replied, his voice tight.

“I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

“Me too. I’ll get us there as quickly as I can.”

He kept his promise and pulled up to his apartment building in record time. Charlie felt like she was walking on clouds as she got out of the car and followed him up to his room. Was he mad at her? Was he upset from the situation? Something was wrong with him and it made her stomach go in knots to try and figure out what.

The answer presented itself when Alastor opened the apartment door and Charlie stepped inside.

“I can’t believe you did that, Charlie.”

His words vibrated against her skin and set her ablaze. It was too hot, way too hot, yet not hot enough at the same time. Alastor closed the door behind them and leaned down to wrap his arms around her. His mouth pressed into her neck, the side without the hickey.

“I can’t believe we did that,” Charlie countered. Alastor picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as he made his way to the bedroom. “Al!” Charlie cried. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She couldn’t see his face so she didn’t see his devious smirk. “Good question, dear. I’m torn between ravaging you because I was so distraught when you put yourself between me and Adam, and punishing you for doing such a thing. The punishment, however, is the same. I’m going to fuck you.”

Her entire body broke out in shivers. “P-punish me?” Charlie stammered. As she asked this, she found herself plopped down in the middle of Alastor’s bed. He stood over her and began to unbutton his shirt, staring down at her as he did so. He was like a viper getting ready to coil and strike its prey. His body language was tense; he had no intention of making this a sweet session.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Charlie protested. She took off her sweater and discarded it somewhere in the room. “Adam was about to hit you, what was I supposed to do?”

“Let him hit me,” Alastor answered bluntly. “I was putting myself between you two for a reason. Do you really think I’d want you to take the hit for me?”

She glared up at him. She didn’t know where this defiance came from and how it could possibly fuel her lust, but she didn’t want to stop and think it over. “I saw an opportunity and I took it. Just like when I put myself between Angel and Valentino.”

Alastor didn’t need to be reminded of that night. “I’m not Angel,” he hissed. He grabbed the waistband of Charlie’s jeans and gave them one forceful tug down her legs. She was now stripped down to her bra and panties. He tried not to be distracted by the supple smooth skin that was his to claim. “I don’t need you to fight for me.”

“That’s ridiculous! Of course I’ll fight for you!”

“No, I’ll fight for you. You fight for yourself. But don’t you ever put yourself in harm’s way to save me, do you understand? I won’t have it,” Alastor growled. He let his slacks fall to the floor, which left him in his strained boxer shorts.

It was a strange cocktail of emotions for the both of them; upset, displeased, yet lust-filled like never before. Charlie didn’t need to guess how he was feeling, the tent in his boxers was proof enough. She also didn’t need to feel her panties to know how soaked they were.

Charlie sat up on her knees and knelt before him. Even with the help of the bed, Charlie didn’t come close to being eye level with the Radio Demon. He stared down at her and ran his hands up and down her arms. He noticed goosebumps on her flesh.

“I refuse to agree to that,” Charlie said sternly. “You can’t make me.”

“I didn’t realize you could be such a brat,” Alastor huffed. His eyes burned into hers. Neither of them yielded.

Alastor kissed her first. She accepted his kiss but bit his bottom lip in retaliation. He only growled in response and lifted Charlie up by the hips. When Alastor slammed her into the bed and pinned her down with his body, he already had her panties clawed off her hips and in ruined shreds on the floor. “You bastard!” Charlie squeaked when she realized that they were ruined.

He chuckled darkly and kissed her once more. He let her taste the metallic blood that she drew when she bit his lip. Charlie fought his tongue, spurred on by the panties. Alastor wasn’t about to stand down on this one. He broke their kiss and held Charlie down with his hands on her wrists.

This was new territory. Their sexual encounters never had such a charge to them before. Perhaps it was because of everything that happened at the news station. Charlie blatantly defied him and it only made him want to exert his power and put her in her place. He loved it.

Alastor grinned as he bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Are you ready to agree?”

“As if! What exactly is your problem? Why are you so adamant that I don’t stand up for you?”

“Charlie, this isn’t someone going online and saying mean things about me. This is you putting yourself in harm’s way, which you shouldn’t do to begin with, but you really shouldn’t do for me. What if Adam had followed up with another punch? What if he seriously hurt you? What if he had a knife and after that first hit was deflected, he followed up with a stab? You can’t do this. I won’t allow it.”

“You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do. I get that you don’t want to see me get hurt, but Al, don’t you get it? I don’t want to see you get hurt, either! Which is why I stepped in between you two in the first place!”

“You could have been seriously hurt, Charlie.”

“You could have, too.”

“Say you won’t do it again.”

“I won’t say it.”

Alastor growled out in exasperation. He let go of Charlie’s hands, but before she could celebrate her freedom, she found herself in another predicament. Alastor used his inhumane speed to grab her by the hips and hoist her up so that her lower body was up in the air and her head and shoulders stayed on the bed. He placed her legs on either side of his shoulders, which gave him the perfect opening to feast on. Charlie cried out when Alastor’s wicked, hot tongue plunged itself between her folds.

“Alastor!”

“Just like that,” he snarled into her heat. “This is just an inkling of how wild you drive me.”

He feasted on her with aggressive laps of his tongue. Relentless strokes against her inner walls that made her entire body tremble. Charlie couldn’t help the buck of her hips, her body craving more. He was such a dirty cheater, how dare he eat her out like this when they’re in the middle of an argument! But she couldn’t deny how wonderful it felt for Alastor to pleasure her like this, and the fact that he had her hips up and controlled the pace of his fucking made it all the more sensual. Alastor bit her inner thighs and she jumped from the sensitivity. He settled his lips on her left inner thigh, the spot closest to her wet pussy lips, then he latched on and sucked.

Charlie knew that Alastor was giving her another hickey. The idea of it almost made her finish. He sucked her thigh obscenely, almost as loudly as when he ate her out, and when his lips came off of her he did so with an exaggerated pop.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself because of me,” Alastor offered, his voice much more hushed. He sounded drunk off of her essence.

Whatever anger she had inside of her simmered down. Charlie found it hard to speak from the sudden glue in her throat. “I’m not trying to hurt myself over you, Al.” He moved his mouth back to her overly sensitive folds. Alastor kissed her heat and licked his way up to her bundle of nerves. Her clit throbbed when his tongue poked it. “Please, Al,” Charlie mewled. She was so close. “You have to understand, I’m not putting myself in harm’s way to spite you. It’s because I lo—ooooooohhhhh!”

Somehow, he knew what she was going to say. He didn’t want to hear those three little words come from her mouth. He knew that if he fucked her clit that it would stop her from saying it. Alastor was correct as Charlie fell apart from her release, unable to articulate any words at all with his tongue lapping over her most sensitive spot.

Alastor set her quivering body down on the bed and licked his lips. “Don’t, Charlie,” he rasped.

She recovered a lot quicker than he had hoped. It was her determination. “Why can you say it but I can’t?” she asked with challenge in her voice. “It doesn’t make sense, Al! Do you not believe me? Do you think I’m lying to you?”

“I don’t think you’re lying to me.”

This was impossibly frustrating. Alastor didn’t understand the conflicting emotions inside of him. One side of him wanted to fuck her senseless and the other side of him wanted to run away. He didn’t want to continue this argument with her, but the pride inside of him wouldn’t let him back down. Years and years ingrained into his head of never backing down prevented him from it. It was the Radio Demon inside of him.

“You don’t think I’m lying to you,” Charlie repeated. She looked up at him. She was so gorgeous when she was beneath him, her golden hair fanned out behind her. Her eyes sought his. “Then what do you think the problem is?”

“Charlie, I—”

“You’re not fucking your way out of this one, Alastor.”

He hissed down at her. Finally, there was aggression in her tone. What was this? What was this authority she spoke with that challenged him and excited him all at once?

“Wanna bet?” Alastor asked. He purposely ran his cock over her slit and made sure that his tip teased inside of her. There was plenty of her wetness and his leftover spit that collected at the tip of his cock. It tortured them both; he wasn’t invincible to her sweet warmth. “Oh, dearest, the way I want to fuck you right now…” Charlie grit her teeth. She was losing her purpose. He could win if he kept this up. Alastor bent down and touched their foreheads together. His eyes burned into hers and he could see little flecks of diamonds in her shining eyes from this close. “We can talk about this later,” Alastor beckoned. He put his hand between their bodies and firmly placed his two fingers at the hood of her clit. He didn’t move them, but he held the spot firmly. “Just give in.”

Charlie whined when his fingers touched her bundle of nerves. She knew that one word was between her and getting fucked exactly the way she needed by him. All she had to do was acquiesce and his cock would be inside of her, driving her wild. Charlie wanted him so badly.

But she wanted to say those three little words more. She wanted to say them so badly that it felt like her heart would burst in her chest.

“I think you’re afraid that I’ll hurt you,” Charlie whispered. Tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke. “I don’t ever want to hurt you, Al.”

Alastor thought that he had won. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. The look in Charlie’s eyes was almost terrifying. It was so beautifully determined. “Enough, I—”

“Just let me say it,” Charlie murmured. “Please.”

Perhaps it was his hubris that she would give into him, only for him to be completely wrong. Alastor was knocked down at her challenge and Charlie took advantage of the short-circuit in his brain. She grabbed his hips, lifted hers, and pulled him down to her. His cock slipped between her folds and he choked out a broken cry from the sudden release of pressure. Charlie mewled at his entry and wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him inside of her. She laughed as she cried and she grabbed his face and kissed him. “Go on, Al. Make love to me.”

His body and his mind were two separate entities. His mind was reeling, incapacitated, but his body fell into its primal rhythm. He fucked her, moving himself out and slamming back in, guided by her legs wrapped around his waist. Maybe it was his imagination but it seemed like her walls were tighter, everything about this seemed so much more intense. “Oh, Al,” Charlie praised from beneath him.

She cried harder yet she smiled. She was such a sight to behold. Perfection. A dream come true. Alastor couldn’t look away. All he could do was stare down at her in a disbelieving haze and continue to pound into her.

What was happening? What was she doing to him?

Charlie gave him that look again. There was nothing else in her mind except for Alastor. He had no chance of escaping. He saw the pleasure that glazed over her teary eyes. “Don’t you want someone who loves you?” she asked with a small whine. Her inner walls clenched around him as she asked him. “Aren’t you tired of controlling the narrative? You can’t control who I love, and you can’t tell me that it can’t be you.”

Fuck. Why was she doing this to him? Why did every word out of her mouth have to hurt like a knife yet sound so sweet to his ears? She couldn’t mean it. Why was she so adamant about it when there was no way in hell that anyone could ever really—

“Alastor…”

Her moan took him out of his thoughts. He had to answer her. “Yes, darling,” he said back, his voice strained.

“I love you.”

Something broke inside of him.

Alastor shouted out a wordless, strangled cry. It was the cathartic burst of him letting go of his control. In that moment, he didn’t care if he thought that her saying it was a bad idea, let alone a lie. He didn’t care if one day she’d regret it or if she wouldn’t mean it. None of that mattered because in the present moment, there was no denying the way Charlie Morningstar felt. She meant it. Alastor was tired of controlling the narrative. He just wanted to enjoy her words; he wanted to savor those three little words.

Someone loves you.

He bent down and kissed her. More than that, he claimed her. She claimed him right back. There was no mistaking that she smiled into their kiss as Alastor consumed her. The strokes of his tongue matched the strokes of his hips. He tried to bury himself as deeply inside of her as he could and she welcomed all of it. There was nothing more carnal than Charlie beneath him, completely at his mercy, totally and wholly his to fuck.

Not fuck. Make love to is what she said.

He rolled the idea over in his mind the same way he rolled his tongue over the expanse of her mouth. Charlie had to break the kiss so she could breathe. She laid beneath him; flushed, tear-stained cheeks, gaping mouth as she tried to catch her breath, and those diamond flecks shining in her big eyes. Alastor grabbed her hips and angled himself deeper inside of her. He worked himself into her and felt every inch of her walls tighten wonderfully around him. “Come for me,” he ordered with a hoarse whisper. “Charlotte, will you come for me? Will you let me see your beautiful face when you come?”

It was the first time he’d ever sweet-talked her. He only ever dirty talked her and showered her with praises, but this was something else entirely. She stood no chance. Charlie did exactly as he asked with those beckoning words and came around him. She cried out as she did so; her vision going white, her entire body singing. Alastor knew she was riding out her pleasure and put his hand back in the same spot near her clit. When he brushed her nerves she clamped down on him even harder and she clung to him for life. He drove her mad with stimulation. Instead of screaming again, Charlie leaned up and bit Alastor’s shoulder.

Finally, a proper bite. This was nothing like her pathetic attempt in the supply closet. This was a genuine bite on his bicep and he hissed in delight at the rush of pleasure and pain. Charlie groaned into his skin and finally she fell limp into the bed.

“I love you,” she said again while her body felt like it was boneless. “Fuck, Al.”

He scooped Charlie up in his arms and held her in an upright position. Her hair stuck to their sweat-slicked skin and she scooped it and threw it to one side of her shoulder. Alastor settled her down on his cock and ground himself into her. He was so close, but he wanted to milk more out of her. If there was a chance that Charlie could come again, he wanted to make it happen. He was going manic again with this determination. Nothing would stop him. His logical mind took the back seat and his primal brain took over, and all it told him to do was keep going. Alastor was knelt down and he had plenty of leverage to move his hips. He scooted them to the headboard so Charlie could have a surface to lean back against, as well as a means of pinning her against something. There was something about the ability to trap her whenever he wanted that he found irresistible.

They settled into their new position of love-making; Charlie on his lap and her back against the headboard, Alastor knelt down beneath her and his hands on either side of her to brace himself. He started pounding again. This was slow and purposeful strokes. Charlie felt it build up inside of her once more. She moaned as he moved inside of her, partly because it felt amazing, and partly because she knew that her moans were music to his ears to keep going.

As much as he wanted to kiss her again, he was happy to have a space between them so he could watch her expressions as he moved into her. He could tell that her second orgasm was building and she had it in her, it was up to him to draw it out of her. He wanted to finish so badly that his cock ached, but there was a thrill in the wait. The challenge of if he could finish her off again before himself was too tempting.

Charlie watched him the same way he watched her. She brought her hands up to her breasts and squeezed them together. Alastor watched in sick fascination as Charlie played with her own boobs and circled her nipples with her thumbs, the way she roughly grabbed herself.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

She smiled knowingly. “Like what you see?”

“Oh, trust me, I like everything I see.” He changed up his strokes and picked up speed. Charlie threw her head back against the headboard and moaned from the switch up. She let go of her boobs and they swung wildly from the roughness of his hips pounding into hers.

Alastor couldn’t take it. He had to take control. He needed her.

He surged forward and grabbed Charlie’s hands, sitting up as he pinned her hands above her head and against the wall. She gasped as he held her down and pounded into her especially hard, that one stroke made her see stars. Alastor kissed her as he held her down. He couldn’t explain it, he wouldn’t even begin to try to explain it, but there was something about having total control over her, knowing that Charlie was at his complete mercy to do whatever he wanted to—it made him savage. His sweet Charlie; his to kiss, his to touch, and his to fuck senseless.

Make love to.

Alastor’s hips moved wildly. His steady pace was abandoned and he went feral with desperate pleasure. He wanted her, he wanted to chase this euphoric feeling to the very end. Her walls clenched him so tightly. Charlie kissed him back the best she could but all she could really do was moan as her second orgasm built up. She was close. She was so fucking close.

He knew it, too.

Alastor broke their kiss, a line of spit between their bruised lips, and whispered, “I love you.”

Those three little words were enough to bring her over the edge. Charlie screamed as she came again and he silenced her with a muffled kiss. Her climax brought him to his and he released inside of her. His hips stuttered into hers and he groaned as he saw white.

The next few minutes that passed were a hazy blur.

Somehow, Alastor wasn’t sure how, but he ended up laid down on his bed with Charlie curled into his side. They both laid there, bodies wholly spent, panting to try and catch their breath, both in a post-sex daze. This was the collective afterglow and it was amazing.

They didn’t say a word. The words were in their eyes when he looked down at her and she looked up at him. Charlie put her hand on his chest and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim them.

~*~*~*~

The boneless feeling chased Charlie into the following morning. She felt like she was still in a dream when she opened her eyes and found herself in Alastor’s bed. A dream where she knocked Adam Evans out cold with one punch, stood up for herself on live TV, and where she had some of the best sex of her life with a man who she finally was able to say those three little words to.

Surely all of that wasn’t real. This couldn’t possibly be the morning after a day like that. Charlie assessed her current position before getting up and moving around in the bed. She was on her side and facing Alastor, who was on his back and sound asleep. This was one morning she was grateful that they weren’t tangled up together, it made for a sneakier escape.

Charlie turned over to face the night stand. Her phone was there collecting dust, untouched since last night. It was unlike her to leave her phone for so long, but she didn’t want to have to put out fire after fire from everyone who checked on her. She sent out a group text telling everyone how much she appreciated it and she was okay, then set her phone down and forgot all about it. After Charlie and Alastor’s session they woke up around eleven, ate some leftovers, Charlie ate ice cream while he read his book with jazz music in the background, they ended up having another session on the couch, which led to the shower, and finally bed. Each session ended with her saying those three little words, and each time, Alastor seemed to warm up more and more to them.

Today had to be different from all the other mornings. Charlie wanted to do something special for him. She hastily got out of bed without realizing that her foot was tangled up in the bed sheet and she nearly tripped, which would have certainly woke him up. Thankfully, in the last second she realized she was tangled and managed to free herself before standing up.

Charlie held her breath and waited a full ten seconds. Alastor remained asleep. He was like Dracula in his coffin, he was so deathly still. Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the thought and grabbed her phone before dashing to the bathroom.

Twenty-eight missed calls. Fifteen unread messages.

“Jeez,” Charlie whispered to herself. It didn’t feel fair to call her friends needy when she knew that she was the needy one. Was this what it was like to be friends with someone needy like her?

She freshened up in the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was she really Charlie? Was she body snatched? How was it that she pulled off what she did yesterday?

“Stop wasting time,” she chided to herself. She made quick work to tie her hair in a ponytail and tip toe back through the bedroom and into the kitchen.

~*~*~*~

He woke up with a start. There was a loud CLANG that jerked him out of his slumber. “Charlie?!” Alastor exclaimed. He didn’t hide the worry in his voice.

“I just dropped a pan, it’s fine!” Charlie called from the kitchen.

“A pan?” Alastor asked himself. He put two and two together. “Charlie, what are you—”

“Don’t come out here for another five minutes!” she screeched from the kitchen. “You’ll ruin the surprise!”

Alastor huffed. He sat up in bed and put on his glasses that were on the nightstand next to him. It would be a surprise if by some miracle Charlie didn’t hurt herself or set herself on fire. He was starting to doubt her kitchen skills. The hamburger helper was an idea that came out of the fiery pits of hell. Whatever idea Charlie had about breakfast made him break out in a cold sweat. He wasn’t sure what was worse—that she’d hurt herself from cooking it, or she cooked it and then he had to eat it.

He decided to be productive in the longest five minutes of his life. He got dressed and brushed a comb through his unruly hair. “Times up!”

“Fine, fine!”

Alastor couldn’t have walked into the kitchen faster. He walked out to see Charlie hold out a plate of… omelet. The yellow egg seemed innocent enough, with melted shredded cheese on top and a little piece of parsley for garnish. Alastor stared at her outstretched hand with the plate in disbelief. “Charlotte… did you cook this?”

“Duh, silly!” she grinned. “Do you want orange juice or coffee?”

He took the plate although he was still in a stupor. “Coffee. Please tell me every ingredient you used to make this omelet.”

Charlie laughed, blind to how serious he was to know. “Well, eggs! Then I chopped up a tomato, some mushrooms, and microwaved some bacon. I sauteed the tomatoes and mushrooms, chopped the bacon into bits, and threw it into the omelet. I hope you don’t mind the melted cheese.”

Alastor set the plate at the bar and sat down at the seat. “Any helpers? Hamburger helper, egg edition?”

Charlie thought he was making a joke and giggled. “Don’t be silly! This is all me. I hope you like it.”

Alastor smiled. He felt safe enough about his breakfast. “You are full of surprises, darling.”

~*~*~*~

“Charlie!”

She was nearly knocked off her feet when everyone rushed at her from all directions. Charlie didn’t expect her friends to be at the rehab center when she arrived, and she certainly didn’t expect to get dog-piled on. Yet, there they were: Vaggie, Angel, Niffty, Pentious, and Husk. All of them rushed at her at once and she finally understood what it was like to be hugged by a group of people.

“You’re gonna make me cry!” Charlie exclaimed. It was too late, by the time she was done speaking her first tear already spilled down her cheek.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, princess,” Husk said. “But you sure proved me wrong! You knocked Adam out cold!”

“Right in the kisser!” Angel cheered.

“Doesssss your hand hurt?” Pentious asked.

“My hand hurts, I think someone is pinching me,” Niffty said.

“Okay, break,” Vaggie ordered.

Everyone broke apart and huddled around Charlie. She stood in the middle of their attention and sniffled as she wiped her happy tears on the back of her hand. “I don’t know what to say. You’re all here. That’s so sweet.”

Vaggie smiled and gave Charlie an extra squeeze. “Carmilla Carmine’s money came in, Charlie. We did it. We just need to outsource and find employees and licensed professionals, but that shouldn’t be too hard. We can be up and running in no time.”

It all felt too surreal. Months and months of putting her life on hold and finally the moment was upon her. Charlie didn’t know what to say. Instead, she buried her face into Angel’s chest and cried. “Why me, toots? You know my clothes are much more expensive than Vaggie’s,” Angel whined, although he did so with a smile.

“You have a nicer chest to cry into,” Charlie answered in a muffled voice. “And your body wash is better.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “Sorry you don’t like cucumber melon, sheesh.”

“Where’s Alastor?” Husk asked.

“He dropped me off, he went to the news station. He’ll be here after his broadcast.”

“Well, what should we do?” Vaggie asked. “We’ve got the whole day to celebrate, Charlie. It’s Friday night! Anything you want to do!”

Before Charlie could answer, there was a small voice that belonged to someone new.

“Um, excuse me…” Everyone turned towards the front entrance to see a young woman with her arms behind her back and an unsure expression on her face. “Hi Charlie,” she said with an unsure tone.

Charlie smiled wide in glee. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Emily!”

Notes:

And there we have it!

This chapter was ultimately Charlie-centric and about her fighting her biggest battles: Adam, and even tougher, Alastor. I took inspiration from episode 8 of the show when Charlie deflected Adam's punch and he was like "Wait, what the fuck?!" haha and I thought it would be perfect if Charlie was in the right place at the right time with the right leverage and adrenaline and WABOOOOOOSH knocks Adam out cold.

I've never written tense sex scenes (I've read so many but then when I write them it's like UMMMM) but this was about Charlie dismantling Alastor's control issues. It just so happened to happen during sex. HEEHEE.

This story is heading towards its end! I know I keep saying that, but I just want to give a good heads up that way you're not blindsided lol. Idk how many chapters are left, this was a pretty big one in terms of plot progression, but I've got at least ONE more trick up my sleeve.

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate you so much! <3

Chapter 21

Summary:

The fallout after the Killjoy show.

“Which mini breakdown is this?”

“Does hyperventilating count as a breakdown?”

“Well, that’s why I said mini, so yeah.”

“Um, four.”

Vaggie couldn’t help but smile at how honest and unapologetic Charlie was to be herself. To say she had a tough week was an understatement, but Vaggie was proud of how much she persevered through it. The rehab center was finally in its final stages of completion. The place was furnished, the plumbing, electrical, water, and AC worked, as well as all regulations through the city were met. Vaggie went through the proper channels to get the staff together.

All they had to do was secure funding by the city and potentially get more funders at Carmilla Carmine’s charity ball.

It was looking promising for their future. Adam Evans didn’t drop out of the mayor race but he went radio silent since the Killjoy Incident. It had been two days and no official statement from Evans himself or Lute.

Every day at the center was a new puzzle piece fitting together. It was amazing how close the vision was to completion.

“You know Husk, you could keep your job, if you wanted to,” Vaggie had told him the following Sunday morning while he drank his coffee at the receptionist desk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Husk asked.

“I just mean that we’re not going to have Lucifer’s security here 24/7 all the time. And I think having a security guard and front desk receptionist might be the play here.” Vaggie shrugged nonchalantly as if to imply it was no big deal either way. “However, if you work the front desk, you’re going to have to learn some table manners.”

Husk side-eyed her from his seat. “Listen little lady, I have plenty of table manners. People come in and tell me what’s wrong, I hand them a clipboard and tell them to fill it out, what else is there?”

Vaggie smirked. “You could try smiling.”

“Oh sure, and why don’t I go ahead and be the valet and park their car for ‘em, too.”

“Well Husk, it seems to me like you belong here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked being here all day with me and Charlie and the gang.”

Husk scoffed and spun his office chair in the other direction. “Sounds like you don’t know any better.”

“I guess not.”

That following Monday morning was Husk’s first official day as the center’s front desk receptionist/security guard. He wore a dress shirt tucked into jeans and a tie when he walked in. Charlie couldn’t hep but squeal in delight when she saw him. “Look at yoooooouuuuu!” Charlie beamed. She barreled towards him.

“Princess watch out I’ve got—”

Husk’s warning fell on deaf ears as Charlie launched herself at him for a big hug. Before Husk’s coffee spilled everywhere, someone snatched the cup from his hands right as Charlie collided with him, saving his drink.

Angel took an exaggerated sip of coffee that wasn’t his to begin with. “Ooh, is this dark roast?”

Husk glared at him as Charlie clung onto him like a monkey and told him over and over how happy she was that he was part of the team. “You have a lot of nerve drinking my only cup of joe,” Husk growled.

Angel smirked and took one more sip while meeting Husk’s narrowed eyes. “I’ll buy ya another one later. Hey, Charlie, can you get off him? His back isn’t what it used to be.”

Charlie snapped out of it. Her sneakers were back on the ground. “Sorry Husk, I’m just so happy! Today is going to be a great day! I hope you’re feeling super-duper excited!”

Husk snatched his coffee from Angel. “We’re not even open yet, what work is there other than me sitting on my ass all day?”

Charlie laughed like he told a joke. He wasn’t joking. “Hahahaha, oh Husk! There’s plenty to do! We have in-patient forms that need printing and organizing, folders that need to be placed in our file cabinets… isn’t that exciting? We have a file cabinet! Look how far we’ve come!”

Somehow, Husk couldn’t find it within himself to be excited by a file cabinet. He thought today would be a day he got paid to sit in the receptionist chair and read his book. “Yeah, fine,” he grumbled. “Lead the way, princess.”

The week seemed to blur by for Charlie and her group. Every day was a step closer to securing their opening deadline, getting their licensed staff together, and getting their name out there in the city. Pentious and Niffty handed out fliers and put up signs around the city. Rosie helped Charlie write up a blog post about her work. Charlie quit her job as a waitress so she could be at the center full time. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to the job that got her through college and her tough times, but finally, she was where she wanted to be.

“We need an official name of this place,” Angel said.

It was a Thursday afternoon. Angel split his time between Charlie and Lucifer, all while on Lucifer’s dollar. His job as his campaign manager was still in full swing, especially with the mayoral voting day approaching, but Lucifer wanted to make sure that Angel helped his daughter. His exact instructions were:

“Help Char however you can! And if for any reason there’s any kind of drama between her and Alastor, I want you to spill that tea as fast as you can.”

“You know sir, it almost sounds like you want things to go badly between them,” Angel commented.

Lucifer laughed and shook his head. “Nonsense! I would never ever want anything to go badly for my precious daughter!”

“What about Alastor?”

“Well you better get going Angel, hurry up. Remember to hit me up if you get the DL, which is short for down low.”

The new job didn’t have the same glamour as the porn industry, but it had stability and paid weekly, as well as Lucifer not being a complete psychopath like Valentino. Angel felt like he was doing a good job overseeing the Morningstar father and daughter duo. He expected a raise was in the horizon by next month.

When he told Charlie that the place needed a name, it was right after their lunch break. Charlie hadn’t finished her tuna sandwich just yet. She shook her head while she chewed her last bite. “We have a name. Happy Hotel Rehabilitation Center.”

Angel happened to be taking a drink of his sprite when she said this. He spit it out when he heard her answer. “Angel! I just mopped!” Niffty cried.

“Sorry Niff. And I’m sorry Charlie, but what did you just say?!”

Charlie swallowed her food. “Happy Hotel Rehabilitation Center is the name.”

“Okay, so I did hear you correctly.” Angel sighed. He looked at Husk, who raised an eyebrow in curiosity and then looked at Vaggie, who averted her eyes. “Toots, you know I love you,” Angel said.

Charlie smiled. “Aww, I love you too.”

“But I hate that name.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Way to use tact,” Vaggie muttered. Of course she had already tried gently suggesting other names and those suggestions went over Charlie’s head. Perhaps subtle hints weren’t the way to go.

Angel played it cool. “Why is ‘hotel’ in the name?”

“Because they’re staying here for rehab, it’s like a hotel!” Charlie exclaimed. “Also, this isn’t the first you’ve heard the name. I’ve had the Happy Hotel name written down in my blueprints for ages now.”

Vaggie tried to smooth things over. “I think we thought that Happy Hotel was just a placeholder name,” she said.

“Until what?” Charlie asked.

“Until you came up with something better,” Angel said. “Like I get it, you want ‘happy’ in the name because you want people to be happy. That’s cute. But like, I dunno, it’s not the winner.”

“How about Morningstar Rehabilitation Center?” Husk suggested. Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie looked at him blankly. “What? I think it’s a good idea,” Husk defended.

“Maybe you should get back to organizing the file cabinet,” Angel said.

Husk rolled his eyes. “Okay, screw you guys.” He grumbled to himself as he got up and walked back to the receptionist desk.

“Poor, bitter old man,” Angel said as he shook his head. He said it with a goofy smile on his face. “Anyway, yeah, go figure out a new name Charlie. We’re gonna need it for this weekend when we do the charity ball. Don’t be afraid to ask for suggestions and help!”

Charlie wanted to cry. How could he not like Happy Hotel? It was cute. “Okay,” she said in defeat. “If we’re gonna be like that, I’m just gonna go to my office. Don’t need me for anything unless you really need me for something, otherwise please don’t need me.” She sulked off towards the stairs.

Vaggie smacked Angel in the arm. “Your job is making your head too big!” she chided.

Angel sneered at her. “What? Am I wrong? Happy Hotel is a hot pile of garbage.”

“Well yeah, but you didn’t have to be so aggressive about it.”

Angel sighed. “You’re right. Oh well.”

~*~*~*~

By the time Charlie made it to her office upstairs she was exhausted and it was only 3:45 in the afternoon. Most days she worked until 6:30 when Alastor would pick her up and the two would head home. Alastor’s radio show was from 5-6 and he was usually very punctual about being at the parking lot by half past six. Home by six forty-five, dinner by seven-thirty, a few hours of down time to either read, watch videos on her phone, or not read and not watch videos, and bed by eleven most weeknights.

It was Thursday and she was still a bit hurt over Angel’s comments on her center name. She valued her friends’ honesty, but she didn’t think Happy Hotel was that bad. Charlie knew a good sulk session in her office would do her good. She wanted to text or call Alastor, but with his show around the corner, she knew he’d be busy going over notes with Rosie. Sometimes she listened to his show during her work sessions. It amazed her every single time how much fiery passion Alastor brought his listeners. She admired that quality in him; his unrelenting insistence on his point of view. No one in this city could bully the Radio Demon.

Charlie opened the door to her office. The makeshift milk crate coffee table was gone and replaced with a real wooden coffee table, courtesy of Alastor. She didn’t even notice that he did it until Monday and when she thanked him, he laughed and told her that he did it a week prior. He was so sweet with his silent ways of taking care of her.

She shut the door behind her so Angel would get the message that she wanted to be alone. When the door shut, the office chair spun around and faced her.

“Why hello darling.”

Charlie jumped in surprise. “Al!”

He grinned when she jumped. “Surprise,” he announced.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a show?”

Alastor leaned back in the office chair and crossed one knee over the other. “Why, I can get to the radio station in twenty minutes flat. I thought it was a good idea to check in on you and see how things were progressing. I see you still don’t lock your office door.”

She flushed a light pink. The butterflies in her stomach were already going crazy. It was just Alastor, there was no reason for her to be so excited to see him. But there was no denying the giddiness inside of her to see him sat so royally in her office seat and the look in his eyes as he regarded her. She was glad that she closed the door behind her.

“You know,” Alastor continued, “when we start accepting patients and other workers, I hope you lock your office. We don’t want intruders. Especially when you and I have to have our business discussions, you know, given that we’re business partners.” He grinned, please with himself.

“Of course,” Charlie agreed. “I just forgot. What do you think of the progress?”

“It’s certainly come a long way,” Alastor nodded. “I’m quite pleased to be your business partner.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Indeed.”

“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, mister, but you’re in my seat.”

The gleam in his eyes was elated. “My dear, you can still sit in your seat.”

His invitation couldn’t be crystal clearer. Charlie did exactly as he said and sat down on his lap. She fit like a missing puzzle piece and he put his hands on her thighs to secure her. She leaned her back against him and closed her eyes to smell the scent of his cologne. “This is a nice surprise,” she whispered.

“I’m glad,” he replied, his voice lowered to match hers. He ran his hands up and down her thighs and nuzzled his face into her shoulder. “You are always so delectable,” he growled into her skin. “Impossible to think about anything other than you, sometimes.”

She laughed at that. “Sorry to be such a distraction.”

“You certainly make the strongest of us turn weak.” Alastor nibbled her neck. She squirmed in his lap and couldn’t help but stifle giggles. Her squirming, of course, led to his blood rushing south.

“I have an idea,” Charlie said. “I’ll just say upfront that you probably won’t like it.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed. He held her hips down and began to grind himself into her ass. “Do tell.”

He was doing it on purpose; grinding into her and expecting her to talk to him while he did it. Charlie exhaled shakily before continuing. “This Saturday is the charity ball. Today is Thursday.”

“And the sky is blue,” Alastor commented sarcastically. So Charlie wouldn’t get mad at him, he bucked his hips into an especially sensitive spot. She whimpered at this action and he grinned into her skin.

“A-and I had an idea that maybe I can stay with dad until Saturday and then after the ball I’ll go home with you and we’ll resume our routine.”

Alastor unlatched his lips. “What?”

She spoke quickly. “It has nothing to do with you! I promise! I just think it’ll be fun if we stay away from each other for a couple of days and then when we see each other at the charity ball, we’ll have really missed each other, and we’ll be all charged up! Like the saying goes ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’, you know?”

His hands snaked up and around her torso and he hugged her tightly against him. “Charlie,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you really want me to ravage you at the charity ball with all those people there?”

“N-no, I—”

“Because that’s what will happen,” he continued, interrupting her. “I’d find a way to make you mine, I promise you that, Miss Morningstar.”

Fuck.

“Is that a promise?” she asked.

He chuckled and moved one of his hands to her breasts. He groped one of her boobs through the fabric of her sweater. “You’re bad,” Alastor growled, although he couldn’t sound more pleased. “You really want to stay away from me for the rest of the week, huh?”

“D-don’t misunderstand me! I don’t want to be away from you, but I do think it’s a fun little experiment. Like how the grooms won’t see their bride all day until the reveal at the altar when he sees her in her wedding dress. I dunno, maybe I’m over my head.”

“We can try it,” Alastor said. “I suppose I’ll have to do better about having my phone on me, hmm?”

“Yes! You’ll have to send me some sweet goodnight texts and maybe I can spray a pillow with your cologne so I can cuddle it when I sleep!”

“You’re too much, darling. So I suppose when I leave this office I won’t see you until Saturday night, hmm?”

Charlie’s heart sunk at that. This was her idea, sure, but the reality of her idea was hitting her. It didn’t help that she suggested this idea while in his lap with his arms snaked around her. How was she supposed to get off him now when she knew she wouldn’t see him again?

“I suppose,” she answered. The deflation in her voice was obvious.

Alastor seemed amused at that. “You’ve got to have conviction, dear,” he said. “And if this is indeed our last encounter, I’d like to make it memorable.”

That was her only warning before she heard him undo his belt.

~*~*~*~

Maybe this was a mistake.

Charlie cursed herself for executing a plan that she didn’t really think through. It sounded good on paper: two star-crossed lovers with distance between each other, thinking about each other constantly, missing each other dearly across the city. How romantic. But in practicality, Charlie missed Alastor more than she would have ever thought and she wanted to go back to his apartment.

Oh, and it was only Thursday night. She saw Alastor four hours ago. How was she going to make it until Saturday?

“Charlie, the popcorn is done!” Lucifer bellowed from downstairs.

The young woman sighed. At least one person was happy from this arrangement. She had never seen her father happier than when she asked him if she could spend two nights over at his place. “One sec, dad!” Charlie called out.

Lucifer kept Charlie’s bedroom more or less the same. The old posters she had when she was in high school were still up, the same bedding, blankets, and trinkets that decorated the surfaces of every dresser and nightstand. Charlie was brought back to when she was a teenager when she was in this room, which was both bitter and sweet. If she were back home with Al, he’d have his jazz music on in the background and would be busy putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“I’m hopeless,” Charlie muttered as she sulkily got up from the bed and changed into her pajamas. She knew what Vaggie and Angel would tell her:

“You’re too attached! You’ve got it bad!”

As if she didn’t know it already. In the chaos of everything that happened with Adam Evans and the business of the center, Charlie never had the chance to tell her friends about her love confession to Alastor. Maybe they didn’t need to know. Was it really that big of a deal? People say ‘I love you’ all the time, it’s nothing groundbreaking.

“For Alastor, it is,” Charlie sighed.

Her heart clenched in her chest. She missed him. She was going to have to make peace with the fact that she was hopelessly in love with the Radio Demon and her friends didn’t care for him and her father especially didn’t care for him. But they didn’t know him the way she knew him; she was confident about that much.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,” Charlie told herself as she went down the stairs. Lucifer was waiting for her on the couch with the popcorn bowl (that was suspiciously half-full) next to him. “Hey dad,” Charlie greeted. She tried her best to fake happiness.

Lucifer knew his daughter better than that. “Darling, what’s wrong? Who do I need to punch?”

She smiled at that. “I’m fine, dad. Just uh, y’know, it’s been a long day.” She sat down between Lucifer and the popcorn bowl. “Have you heard anything about Adam? From any of your sources?”

If anyone would know something, it would be Lucifer.

“Not a word,” her father answered. “He’s gone into hiding since Killjoy. Rumors are circulating that he might drop out of the race. We’ve got one more debate and then voting day. Plus, you’ve got Carmine’s charity ball this Saturday. We’re both busy bees, Char!”

She nodded in agreement. “Don’t you find it suspicious that Adam is being so quiet? It’s not like him.”

“Well sweetie, he really fucked up. You really made him mad, and I’m so proud of you for that.” Lucifer patted Charlie on the head. “If I hear anything about Adam I’ll let you know, I promise. You need to relax. Thirteen Going On Thirty or Ella Enchanted?”

She wanted to hear her father say he was proud of her, but not because she pissed off Adam. She wanted him to say it because he was proud of her hard work at the rehabilitation center. Was that so hard? Or should she just be happy with whatever compliment she got?

“Ella Enchanted,” Charlie answered.

Lucifer fist-pumped the air. “That was my choice, too!”

~*~*~*~

Charlie would have been correct about Alastor’s whereabouts and nighttime habits, and if she had been at home he certainly would have had jazz music playing and the dishwasher loaded. On that night, however, Alastor decided that he wouldn’t sit idly at home and simmer in his loneliness. Not that he’d ever admit that he was lonely, although he could admit privately to himself that he missed Charlie. It was almost unbelievable that once upon a time, Alastor the Radio Demon had lived alone and spent most of his days relishing his solace, until an ambitious young woman walked into his office wanting to speak about her rehab center.

“You’re in a mood,” Husk muttered.

Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and although Husk was far away from Alastor’s first choice of company, at least he wasn’t alone. The two men were in Alastor’s car, Alastor in the driver’s side of course, cruising down the interstate at 60mph in the evening. This wasn’t one of Husk’s impromptu missions with a bunch of immature kids, this was strictly professional business, and as such, Alastor was the leader and the driver.

Husk was fine with taking the backseat on this one. He had to admit it was a nice change of pace to be with Boss Man instead of telling Niffty to stop bouncing around, listening to Pentious whine, or trying to focus on the road while Angel cited off porn history facts. Alastor called him up around 7:30 after his radio show was over and the two met up at the news station parking lot.

“What’s this about?” Husk asked.

“I don’t have a good feeling about Evans,” Alastor answered. Something about him seemed disheveled, not quite right. Husk couldn’t put his finger on it, maybe it was just the gambler in him who got carried away.

“Meaning?” Husk asked.

“Just bear with me.”

“Well how long are we planning on being gone?”

“As long as it takes. Why? Do you have a commitment somewhere, hmm?”

It was a trick question. Both of them knew that Husk was going with Alastor, no matter how long or how far he took them. Husk cursed him under his breath as he followed him. This was normal behavior for the Radio Demon; give as little information as possible, snide remarks, and that fucking grin that dared him to object.

The two had been in the car for almost an hour. There was no radio on, just the quiet hum of Alastor’s car as it zipped down the road. Husk wasn’t one to be uncomfortable in silence (he used to prefer silence once upon a time, until he met a ragtag group of weirdos who forced him to speak) but it wasn’t the silence that made him uneasy, it was Boss Man. Alastor may as well have had black tentacles coming out of him, he had an almost demonic aura.

“Everything going alright with Charlie?” Husk dared to ask. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Quite swimmingly,” Alastor answered through his teeth.

“Really? What’s she up to?”

“If you must know, she’s at home with her father this evening.”

“Ah… you two have a fight?”

Husk knew he was pushing it but he figured the odds of Alastor throwing him out of the speeding vehicle was relatively low. The Radio Demon side-eyed him and Husk felt an invisible dagger go into his side.

“She wants to spend the next couple of nights at Lucifer’s house,” Alastor replied, his voice tight. “Not because we had a fight, but because she claims that if we don’t see each other until Saturday that when we do see each other at the charity ball, it’ll be all the more special. I don’t understand it myself, personally, but if it’s space she wants I will oblige.”

Husk didn’t think there would ever be the day where the Radio Demon sought relationship advice, but here it was. He knew he had to tread carefully with Alastor before he realized what was happening. “That sounds like something that Charlie would do,” Husk said. “She likes fairytales and fantasy. I’m sure she doesn’t really want space from you.”

“We’ll have to see,” Alastor replied. “Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’?”

“Sure. I’ve heard it several times. It’s true, from what I’ve seen.”

“Then perhaps she really does believe it.”

Husk turned towards Alastor even though the other man faced the road and focused on driving. “Look, for what it’s worth, I think Charlie is head over heels for you. Maybe she just feels anxious about the Carmine ball and she doesn’t want you to see her so… you know… vulnerable. You’re very commanding and confident. Maybe she’s afraid that if you see her so opposite of you that you’ll think less of her.”

Now that was a thought. Alastor didn’t have a reply to that, instead he simmered on the possibility of it. Charlie usually didn’t have any problems showing him how she felt. She wore her heart on her sleeve. Why would that change now?

“I got a tip that Adam was out at a nightclub in Bay St Louis, and I want to know exactly what he’s up to,” Alastor said, finally revealing the truth of their trip. “I don’t trust him. And since I’ve got tonight and Friday night to myself, I figure now is the time to buckle down and find out for myself what’s going on.”

“Understood,” Husk agreed. “And you’re bringing me along because…?”

Alastor sighed. “Fine, if you insist on being complimented. Because you’re competent, Husker. There, are you satisfied?”

“A raise would be nice.”

Alastor chuckled. It was the first time he’d done so all day and he had to admit, it felt good to laugh. “I’m sure it would be,” he grinned. “I’m sure it would be.”

~*~*~*~

The first night lead nowhere, but Alastor and Husk weren’t so easily deterred. A few bartenders in Bay St Louis recognized Adam Evans and confirmed that he was there for thirty minutes or so and left. There was no young woman with him, which ruled out that Lute accompanied him. Of course, this was all according to an eye witness.

“Why would he go to a nightclub that’s one city over and stay thirty minutes?” Husk asked.

“I don’t know,” Alastor replied. “But I intend to find out.”

Thursday transitioned into Friday. When Alastor woke up that morning he found himself hugging his pillow, the very pillow that Charlie would have slept on if she were with him. He groaned in frustration. Alastor never ever checked his phone first thing in the morning, in fact, there were mornings that he would forget to leave the house with it.

This was a morning of firsts. He saw that he had two unread texts from Charlie:

Goodnight! <3

Good morning! I miss you!

Alastor stared at the screen for a solid twenty seconds. Maybe he should text her back and tell her that whatever she’s feeling she’s welcome to tell him about. He was a better listener than her friends, he was quite certain about that. Instead, Alastor typed back:

Good morning, darling.

He stared at his message before he hit send. What would Rosie say if she were here? Something along the lines of, “Al! Romance her! Make her feel special! She’s upset and you have to support her, tell her things that make her feel good!” or whatever it was that she saw in her romance movies. Alastor growled and did more of that bothersome typing to follow his first message.

I miss you.

It was surprisingly candid of him. Not that he’d ever deny that he missed her, but to outright admit he did was also an admission of vulnerability. Alastor doubted himself for only a moment before he hit send. The truth was the truth. It was time to get up and seize the day. No one was there to see him give the pillow a final squeeze, and no one could prove that he thought about Charlie as he did it.

~*~*~*~

Night two with Husker and things weren’t nearly as tense as night one. Not that Alastor minded, tense situations never bothered him on the surface. Sometimes he rather enjoyed seeing the other person squirm under pressure. Husk was more at ease this second night, Alastor could see it by the way he slumped his shoulders into the passenger seat.

“You know, it’s quite a bit of gas to be using to go to Bay St Louis twice in one week,” Husk said. “Are you positive about this lead?”

“Not absolutely positive,” Alastor admitted. “But something isn’t adding up here, Husker. Tomorrow makes one week since Katie Killjoy and Adam hasn’t said or done anything publicly, not even in retaliation. That’s unlike him. I would imagine his ego is bruised, but surely he had more fight in him than that?”

Husk nodded in agreement. Adam Evans wasn’t a lay down and take it type of person. The Killjoy stunt was pretty bad—he couldn’t imagine how much of a headache that Lute had being his campaign manager—but surely he could have thought of something. However, Husk did wonder the likelihood of Adam being seen in the same nightclub two nights in a row that was in another city. Perhaps it was embarrassment and Adam didn’t want to be recognized locally in New Orleans.

The nightclub was just like any other nightclub; dark building, neon signs, scantily dressed people, and the cocktail mixture of sex, alcohol, and sweat in the air.

Alastor sighed as he put the car in park. “Degenerates,” he muttered.

Husk couldn’t help but grin. “Ah come on boss, you’ve never been to a strip club?”

“Strip club?”

“Well yeah, look at the sign. That chick doesn’t have well-placed circles on her chest for nothing.”

Alastor rubbed his temples. He wasn’t prepared for this. He thought this was a run-of-the-mill nightclub, but sure, let’s add stripping to the mix. “I’ll have you know that I have never been in an establishment such as this one,” Alastor muttered.

“I was being facetious, I know you haven’t, boss.” Husk couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Does Charlie know you’re here?”

“Does Angel know you’re here?”

Husk stopped grinning. He scowled instead. “How do you know about that?”

“Oh please, I have eyes. Even if I didn’t, my girlfriend is buddy-buddy with him and I hear her nightly gossip through the grapevine, whether it’s against my will or not.”

“Charlie talks about me?”

“Charlie talks about Angel who talks about you.”

Husk coughed into his hand and tried to play it cool. “What does she say that he says?”

Alastor grinned. It was not a kind one. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Oh fuck you,” Husk grumbled. He scurried out of the car and into the cold night air so Alastor wouldn’t notice him blush. Of all the things Husk thought would never happen in his life, going into a strip club with the Radio Demon was definitely high on his list. He supposed this was the proof he needed that anything was possible, which would inspire some people, but not him.

Adam Evans had better be in there.

~*~*~*~

It should have been a good day for Charlie Morningstar. A Friday morning where she didn’t have to work a shift at the cafe and she could go straight to the rehab center to work on last minute details. Lucifer was ecstatic to have his daughter home after their sleepover and made pancakes to celebrate the occasion. Charlie couldn’t remember the last time she had her dad’s breakfast food. It was a nice change up to see him so chipper in the morning, that was for sure.

Lucifer chatted about the latest episode of his reality drama when Charlie happened to check her phone. There was a missed message from Alastor:

Good morning, darling. I miss you.

She smiled stupidly to herself and tried to ignore the dizziness that came over her. How was she going to make it to Saturday? She had to get through today, tonight, then all of Saturday. She was so stupid for thinking that this was a good idea!

“By the way Char, I like the name you chose for your center. I’m not sure why hotel is in the name, but I think it works! Certainly better than the name I came up with, haha!”

Charlie looked up from her phone. “I told you about Happy Hotel?”

Lucifer blinked. “Happy Hotel? The name I saw was Hazbin Hotel.”

“What?!”

Lucifer pulled up his phone. On the front page of the Radio Demon blog was “Hazbin Hotel Rehabilitation Center getting ready to open its doors!” with a picture of the outside of the building to accompany the headline.

Charlie gaped at the headline in disbelief. “I-I-I! I didn’t choose this! Alastor must have!”

“Oh.” Lucifer put his phone down. “Well on second thought I think it’s kind of dumb. Silly. Unprofessional.”

“He chose the name for me so I wouldn’t have to do it,” Charlie said. “How sweet of him!”

“That’s what you’d call sweet, huh?”

“Yes dad, that’s what I’d call sweet. I’m not sure where he thought of the ‘Hazbin’ part, but it works!” Charlie jumped up from her seat. “I’ve gotta get going. Thanks for breakfast. If you need anything, text me!”

She was out the door before Lucifer could kiss her goodbye. He stared at her empty plate that was covered in a pool of syrup. “It’s stupid,” Lucifer reaffirmed. It didn’t matter that he was the only one in the house. It was the truth.

~*~*~*~

Friday morning turned into Friday evening. Charlie managed to spend all day in her office at the center, although she had plenty of company. Vaggie, Emily, and Angel popped in to say hello multiple times. Emily brought homemade lemon bars which were delicious and Vaggie stocked the community kitchen with plenty of tea. “It’s almost like a tea party!” Emily had noted earlier in glee.

The clock read 7:30. Alastor’s show had been over for an hour and a half, so far no text from him. Charlie felt anxious whenever she thought of him. What if he was mad at her for suggesting their time apart? What if he realized that he preferred to be alone?

She picked up her phone and dialed his number. This was just going to be a chill, casual, low-key conversation.

“Hello dear.”

The first thing Charlie picked up on was that there was loud, blaring music in the background. “Uh, hi,” she said. “Uhm, are you busy?”

“Oh, I’m never too busy to talk to you!” Alastor laughed. Something seemed off by his tone.

“Where are you?”

“Oh darling, where are you?”

“Me? I’m at the center. By the way, did you name it Hazbin Hotel behind my back?”

“Do you like it? You were so stressed about the name I decided to take the reigns as your business partner.”

“I like it just fine, yeah! So um, where are you? Why is there loud music?”

“Well you see, I’m out with Husker. He’s playing the music obnoxiously loud. As much as I’d love to continue speaking, I did dedicate this time for him, and I really should continue. Is everything alright? Are you well?”

Charlie couldn’t believe it. Was Alastor blowing her off to spend time with Husk? “I’m fine,” she squeaked. “I, uh, y’know… I miss you…”

“TAKE IT ALL OFF, BABY!” a new voice shouted.

“ALASTOR?!” Charlie shrieked.

There was a garbled hissing and Charlie could have sworn that Alastor was cussing. “Sorry, so sorry,” he said. He lost the previous cool that he had before. “I swear, nothing is wrong or amiss, Charlie. I miss you very much. I’m just out here taking care of some business.”

“What kind of business?”

“The bothersome kind. I’ll explain more tomo—or, whenever I see you. I promise, Charlie, you don’t have to worry.”

The sincerity in his voice disarmed her. She felt her heart flutter in her chest. She missed him so much. “Understood,” Charlie replied. If only she could see his smile through the phone.

“Cheer up, darling! I’ll try and text you soon. Be careful and let me know when you’re home for the night. I must go now. Goodnight!”

She barely had a chance to say goodnight back before he hung up the phone. Charlie sighed and buried her face into the surface of her desk. Whatever was going on didn’t sound good, and it sounded like there was more trouble on the horizon.

~*~*~*~

He could have thrown his phone across the room and watched it shatter into a million pieces. However, he knew how bad of an idea that was, and with his luck, his dinosaur phone was indestructible. Alastor hated everything about this place. The dark room that was only lit by neon lights and overhead disco balls, the wretched club music, the drunk people who staggered around flinging their dirty money, and the entertainers who only had their crotches clothed.

Fate would have it that as his darling Charlie decided to telephone him, that’s when a group of rowdy, tactless men started whooping at the lady who stepped out on stage. One of the men hollered at the top of his lungs, “Take it all off, baby!” as the rest of the crowd cheered when the lady entertainer proceeded to rid herself of her top and bra.

“Fuck,” Alastor growled when he hung up the phone. “What a bunch of degenerates.”

Husk, on the other hand, was having a pretty good time. Was this the best strip club he’d been to? No.

“Beer?” a waitress asked. She held out a tray of complimentary drinks.

“Get away from me,” Alastor hissed.

The waitress visibly recoiled from him in fear. “Don’t worry about him!” Husk exclaimed. “I’ll take his drink. Thanks.” He made sure to tip her a five dollar bill. The waitress nervously accepted the money and scampered away in the opposite direction of Alastor. Husk threw back one drink in one gulp. He was gonna need a lot more. “If you don’t chill out we’re gonna get kicked out,” Husk said.

Alastor glared at him. “I never want to be in this horrid place ever again.”

“Ah come on, you haven’t se—eh-hehehe, whoops, beer went down the wrong way.” Husk turned away from Alastor and coughed. He didn’t have the guts to say what he had to say to Alastor’s face. It was a death wish. What Husk was going to ask was if Alastor had ever seen Charlie naked, but that was a dangerous avenue to go down.

It made no sense to the older man. A lot of things didn’t make sense, but this especially didn’t add up. Alastor, for as long as he’d known the man, avoided anything sexual of any nature. He was always alone. Never had a date. Never mentioned company of any kind. Never had any interest in talking to men or women. Rosie, of course, was the only exception and it was obvious from day one that she took the sister role in his life. So, it wasn’t out of character for Alastor to hate being in a strip club like this one. What was out of character was his infatuation with Charlie Morningstar and the tight grip that the young woman seemed to have over him.

Husk never put much thought into the nature of the two’s relationship until that evening. Was Charlie really such a sexual succubus that someone as opposed to relationships that would change his mind? Of all the people on this planet, it was Charlie? Sweet and innocent Charlie? Maybe Alastor only felt those types of feelings for her and her only. Some kind of… Charliesexual Alastor.

Husk smirked at his inner monologue. He was good and he only had one beer in him, just wait until he had six.

“There he is!” Alastor exclaimed. It was business once more. Husk looked towards where Alastor pointed; it was the second level of the club. The second floor was reserved for private use only and it needed a key from an employee to enter. “How did he get up there?” Alastor asked.

“He asked for a private session,” Husk answered. Before Alastor could ask, Husk said, “When you pay extra for a one-on-one dance.”

Alastor tried to see who else was up there with Adam. The windows were tinted and the lights were dim, no doubt on purpose for privacy. It looked like Adam was waiting in a hallway to be escorted into a room. Husk elbowed him. They saw another man, dressed in black clothing and wearing black sunglasses, climb up the steps to the second floor. He knocked three times. Adam let him in with a grin and lead him towards a room. Once the two disappeared in the room, Alastor couldn’t see them anymore.

“We have to find out who that man is,” Alastor said.

“The only way we’re getting up there is if we pay for a private dance,” Husk answered. “And I’ve got thirty bucks cash on me. You got the rest?”

Alastor wanted nothing more than to sneer at him. It was bad enough that he was stuck here, now he had to spend money? “There’s gotta be another way,” he insisted.

The older man didn’t seem convinced. “Not unless you’re a dancer who has a key.”

As Husk said this, one of the waitresses made her way up the steps with two champagne bottles balanced on a tray. Alastor looked at Husk. Husk looked at Alastor. One had a frown. The other had a grin from an idea.

“Don’t!” Husk cried, but Alastor moved much faster than him. He crept up behind the waitress like he was her shadow. Husk hurried after them. When the waitress used her free hand to slide the entry card, Alastor slipped in past her. Before the waitress could cry, scream, or protest, Alastor grabbed her by the mouth and held her down. She dropped the champagne tray, but luckily for them, Husk caught it just in time.

The two men managed to get into the VIP section of the strip club. The waitress screamed against Alastor’s hand. “One-hundred dollars cash if you keep quiet and let us stay inside,” Alastor told her.

The woman stopped fighting. “Two-hundred.”

“One-hundred and thirty, final offer. Five minutes and then you can escort us out of here yourself.”

The young woman didn’t seem to care. “Fine.” Alastor cautiously took his hand off her mouth. He didn’t waste time to wipe her spit off on his trousers, a look of disdain as he did so. He reached into his back pocket and handed her a one-hundred dollar bill.

“The rest?” the woman snapped.

“Husker,” Alastor said.

Husk groaned. There goes buying a six-pack later. He handed the waitress his thirty and she snatched it out of his hand. “Five minutes or it might be my job. What are you two doing up here, anyway?”

“We’re not together,” Husk said. “Just to be clear.”

The waitress rolled her eyes. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Right.”

Husk and Alastor walked down the hallway towards the room they thought that Adam would be in. Alastor carefully turned the knob and peeped his head into the first room. Adam and the sunglasses stranger were sat across from each other on a sofa ten or fifteen feet away. They didn’t notice him so far.

“I’m telling you, insane!” Adam bellowed from his seat. “Fuck, our drinks should have been here by now. Five-hundred bucks for bottle service, where’s my fucking tits and champagne?”

“Let’s not waste time,” the man said. “You wanted me here, let’s talk.”

Husk poked his head through the door and stood much closer to Alastor than he would have liked. They had their eyes trained on the man with sunglasses. “It can’t trace back to me,” Adam said, his voice serious. “No matter what happens, it can’t trace back to me.”

“We keep very clean trails,” the man assured.

Alastor and Husk exchanged looks. This didn’t sound good.

“Time and place?” the man asked.

Before Adam gave away that crucial piece of information, Alastor and Husk were thrown backwards and out of the threshold of the door. They smacked into the wall behind them in the hallway and saw that five bouncers had come up the stairs. The waitress who took their money smirked.

“You bitch! Give me my thirty back!” Husk growled.

“Y’all need to leave,” one of the bouncers said. “Right fucking now.”

Alastor grit his teeth. There was nothing he could do to get out of this one. He dutifully followed the bouncers as they lead the way back down the stairs. Instead of going out the front entrance, they guided him and Husk to the back, where they all stepped out into the back alley. There was no one around except the dark alley street and the dirty brick walls.

The next thing they knew, one of the men had a gun out. “Against the wall,” he ordered.

“What the fuck,” Husk said.

“You heard me. Both of you.” Husk and Alastor walked to the opposite end where the brick wall was behind them. Husk’s heart pounded in his chest. This wasn’t the first time he’d had a gun pointed in his face, but this was the first time it happened when he didn’t have a gun of his own. The man with the gun smirked. “Valentino has eyes and ears everywhere, you know.”

“You fucker,” Husk growled.

Alastor didn’t seem too worried. It didn’t matter that a gun was pointed at him, he still wore that cocky grin. “What’s your plan, I wonder,” Alastor mused. “Do you really plan on shooting us?”

The man with the gun scowled. The boys behind him seemed to lose their previous confidence. “You wouldn’t be the first casualty I’ve had to hide.”

Alastor chuckled. “You’re a gambler, Husker. What do you think? It sounds to me like he’s bluffing.” The Radio Demon didn’t give his companion a chance to respond. He closed the distance between himself and the man with the gun in a blink of an eye. Alastor grabbed his gun, pointed it upwards, and snapped the man’s wrist in the opposite direction it was supposed to go.

SNAP!

The man hollered out in pain. Alastor sent him to his knees and held the gun. He inspected the weapon, as if he were an appraiser at a pawn shop. “I’d have expected better,” Alastor muttered. He turned the gun onto the men. “You have until the count of five.”

Husk held his breath. The other men ran inside the strip club, and the leader who had the broken wrist scrambled after them. In a blink of an eye, Husk went from having a gun pointed at him to seeing Alastor hold it casually like it were a microphone. “You should put it down, boss,” Husk said. “Let’s go home. Adam has been alerted, I’m sure. We got what we wanted.”

“No,” Alastor argued, “We didn’t, Husker. Adam wants a date and time for this man to do his bidding for him, and he wants whatever act this man commits to not trace back to him. That’s very dangerous information.”

“It could be anything.” Alastor regarded Husk. They both knew better. “Okay,” Husk relented. “I still think we should go home.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Alastor threw the gun away in the dumpster as they walked back to the car. “Cheap thing,” he scowled, wiping his hands on his trousers.

~*~*~*~

She was in a listless slumber when the continuous taptaptap startled her into consciousness. Charlie sat up in bed and looked around the dark room. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her sleep-addled eyes followed the sound to the window, where she saw his glowing eyes illuminate in the night.

Charlie nearly screamed. She jumped in fright—she thought he was a demon—but when her eyes adjusted she saw who it really was.

“Alastor!”

She couldn’t have made it to the window fast enough. The bedroom was on the second story of the home but it had a rooftop access, and from the looks of it, Alastor had no trouble climbing up the trellis fence. She hastily opened the door and the cold breeze bit her exposed skin. Before he had a chance to say anything, Charlie yanked him inside.

“Careful, quiet! Oomph!”

She couldn’t stop her stifled giggles. Alastor landed on top of her on the bedroom floor and she clung onto him with all her strength. Charlie felt like a teenager again; a young rebel who sneaked in her boyfriend past curfew with her dad’s bedroom door down the hallway. But this wasn’t a stupid high school boyfriend, no no, this was Alastor.

“I missed you so much,” Charlie cooed. She wrapped her legs around his torso and climbed on top of him, straddling him to her floor. “Don’t ever listen to me again. I had such a stupid idea. I thought it would be cute and romantic but it was torture and I hated it, I hated not seeing you. Oh, Al.” As Charlie spoke, tears welled up in her eyes. They fell down her chin and one droplet landed on Alastor’s face. He wiped the tear on his finger and put his finger in his mouth. Even Charlie’s tears were sweet; salty, but still sweet.

“Don’t cry,” Alastor soothed. “I’m here now.”

“Why did you come? Where were you? What happened?”

Charlie was happy but the sobs that wracked her frame told another story. She let out the stress she’d been feeling all week long. Alastor pulled her down so her chest was flush against his own and he held her close to him.

“I’m relieved that you’re happy to see me,” he confessed in a hushed whisper. “I was afraid… I was… I was worried that you suggested space between us because you were stressed and you didn’t want to tell me about it.”

“Oh, no, Al,” Charlie said, her voice muffled with her mouth in his shirt collar. “I just had a stupid idea. That’s all. Maybe I should check myself in at the Hazbin Hotel for attachment issues, huh?”

He chuckled. “Whatever you think you’ve got, believe me, I’ve got it much worse.”

She leaned up and searched his eyes with her own. “Al… where did you go tonight? You smell like a nightclub.”

He faltered at that. “How did you know?”

“I was a bartender and my best friend is a porn star who loves to party. I know the nightclub scene.”

Alastor sighed. “It wasn’t just a nightclub.”

She pieced the puzzle together rather impressively. “So that’s why the person in the background said to take it all off!”

He was suddenly embarrassed. “Yes, yes. Something like that. It was awful. I’ve never seen so much exposed skin in my life.”

Charlie couldn’t help it, she laughed. One moment she was crying, the next moment she was giggling. “It didn’t turn you on?” she asked with a coy smile, wriggling her body on top of his.

Alastor regarded her seriously. “The only exposed skin I ever want to see is yours.” The emphasis to his point was the bulge against her pelvis. Charlie’s breath caught in her throat when he held her down against him and began to grind sinfully into her.

“What did you do?” she asked with a huffed breath.

His eyes shined dangerously, just like they did outside her window. They were wild, the eyes of an otherworldly creature. “I tried to track down Adam Evans,” Alastor finally said. “I had a lead that he was in Bay St Louis, so I took Husk with me to investigate. He’s up to something, Charlie. We saw him go into a meeting room and as we were leaving, there were some men who pulled a gun out on us and took us to the back alley.”

Charlie gripped Alastor’s shoulders. “Are you alright?!”

“Fine, yes, just fine. Would I really be here if I was shot?”

“Yes, I think you’d come here even if you were shot.”

He grinned at that. “Yes, perhaps you’re right. I took care of them, don’t worry. But they’re bothersome tactics only proved my point. Something is going on, and I came close to finding out.”

“What do you think is happening?”

“I don’t know, but it has to do with your father and his election and you. It has to.” Alastor couldn’t stand it, he’d been looking at her lips the entire time they spoke and watched how the bottom lip quivered in anxiousness. Alastor kissed her and wrapped his arms around her; one hand weaving into her golden locks, the other hand finding its way to her lower back. She moaned into his mouth, finally having him back with her. Their mouths unlatched too soon for his liking when she had to catch her breath. “I need you, Charlie,” Alastor whispered thickly.

“I’m here, Al.”

“I need to… I need…” he trailed off and tried to gather his thoughts. “A lot of things happened that weren’t in my control,” he tried to explain. “So I’d like to feel in control again.”

Charlie searched his eyes. He sincerity mixed with his arousal made her stomach flip. “You want to control me?” Charlie asked lowly.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, fuck, I want you so bad.”

This was new. This was exciting. Alastor had to lay himself vulnerable in order to ask this of her, and who was she to deny him?

“I’m yours,” Charlie said. Alastor’s eyes glazed over in pure lust. He grabbed her by the chin and pulled her down for a searing kiss. He wasted no time to slide his tongue over hers. She was vaguely aware of the movements of his other free hand. He let go of her chin and flipped her over so she was on the carpet next to him. Charlie felt him press her hands together behind her back and a distinct click. “What did you do?” she asked. She was more in awe at the speed and efficiency of his movements.

Alastor chuckled. “If anyone should be in handcuffs, it should be me. I’m the criminal.” He inspected his work; Charlie was on her stomach, face down with her hands cuffed behind her back and completely at his mercy. The cuffs could be released with the safety button, of course, no key required. Alastor sat on his knees and lowered his face down to her ass. Charlie didn’t have to see how much salivation was already pooled at his mouth. He pulled down her pajama bottoms and exposed her in her pair of white panties that showed some of her cheeks. “Oh, you are divine,” Alastor praised. He kneaded the globes of her ass in his hands like he was kneading dough.

Charlie keened and lifted her ass up towards him as an invitation for more. He grinned at that. He buried his face between her cheeks and began to suck on her exposed left cheek. He sucked, licked, and bit. She tried her best to keep quiet, but when Alastor began to push his fingers into her clothed entrance, completely sopping her panties, Charlie couldn’t take it. She cried out and had to completely bury her face in the carpet to muffle herself. Alastor was driving her insane with his sharp teeth latched in her ass and his finger prodding so close to her heat, with just her fucking panties in the way.

Alastor unlatched his teeth and kissed the base of her spine. “Perhaps you were onto something, darling. After all this time apart, there’s nothing more thrilling than fucking you in your childhood home with the threat of your father catching us. Isn’t that fun?”

Her face screwed up like she ate something sour and he laughed in glee. “Don’t you d—”

Charlie’s threat fell flat when the door to her bedroom swung open. The hallway light was on and illuminated Lucifer, who stood there in his nighttime pajamas; duck slippers, a duck patterned pajama set, a green moisturizing goo on his face, and his blonde hair in curlers. Charlie had never seen her father like this, ever.

“Hi dad!” Charlie squeaked. She had just enough time to roll over onto her back so it wasn’t obvious that her hands were handcuffed together. Remember you are a grown woman!

“Why are you on the floor? What was all that noise?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t sound angry, instead he sounded… concerned? “Oh sweetie, are you sleep walking again?”

“A-again? When did I do it the first time?” Charlie asked. She stood up from the floor and tried to look as casual as possible, even if she had never felt hornier in her life. “Um, I must have had a bad dream and ended up on the floor. Sorry to wake you, dad! You can go back to sleep, I’m fine, promise.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “It sounded like you were having a conversation.”

“With myself! I’m practicing my speech for the ball. I’m super nervous.”

“Why are your hands behind your back?”

“What do you mean? You don’t pace the room with your hands behind your back?”

He had to think about that for a moment. On second thought, he supposed that he did do that. “Oh sweetie, don’t be nervous. They’ll love you! If you wake up again and can’t sleep, try making yourself hot chocolate. That always helps me.”

“Will do, dad. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight my sweet and precious daughter who I love so much,” Lucifer said in a sing-song tune. He shut the door and whistled as he went back down the hallway to his room.

Charlie released one of the biggest exhales of relief in her life. It was crazy to think that she was twenty-six and felt like she was sixteen. Of course at sixteen she never had to worry about being handcuffed, yikes. Her body didn’t seem to know the difference by the way it kept shaking from adrenaline. As if she was going to be grounded!

“Al?” Charlie asked. She looked around the room to find him. Once again, Alastor proved that his super human speed was much superior when he got out of the way by the time Lucifer opened the door.

“In here,” his voice called. It was deep and rumbled.

Charlie turned towards her closet. The door was ajar and his shining eyes were the only thing she could see through the slit. A thrill went down her spine. Something told her that Alastor planned on doing bad things to her in that closet. Like a moth to a flame, she approached the closet. No light guided her way in the darkness of the room.

“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.

Alastor chuckled darkly. His grin couldn’t get wider even if he tried. “Devour you.”

He pulled her into the closet and the door shut behind them.

Notes:

I DID IT!

Oh, dear readers, I had such a busy week lol. I had to utilize every precious second I had to write and hoo boy, did I write my butt off lol. The running prompt of this chapter was Charlie calling Alastor in a strip club and how unfortunate that would be for him lol. And poor Husk, having to give away his last thirty dollars LOL. I was a bit cheeky by using Husk as a means of using the term "Charliesexual Alastor" but I couldn't help it, I was weak xD

I don't think I'd call this a filler chapter, but I definitely wanted it to be a set up chapter for the next final chapters. I think I've got 2-3 chapters left and then Broadcast will be a wrap, which is so bittersweet to saw, but I'm so grateful for the journey it's been! I have some Charlastor one-shots in mind that I'll be happy to try and write out HEHEHEHEHE.

As always, thank you so much for reading and the continued support! <3

Chapter 22

Summary:

The night of the Carmilla Carmine charity ball.

Lucifer was feeling good that Saturday morning when he woke up. His face mask peeled off without issue and his skin was baby-soft and smooth, just the way he liked it. He had a restful night of sleep after checking on his daughter late at night, and dreamed that Cornbread had a new baby brother, Crouton. Oh, he couldn’t wait for springtime when there would be more baby ducks.

Today, he decided he didn’t need his pills. There was pep in his step and he was excited to go downstairs and have breakfast with Charlie. There was a lot to do today in preparation for the Carmine Charity Ball, but at least he had this first hour of his day with his daughter.

He did a few bicep curls with his eight pound dumbbells while facing the mirror. “You are a tiger on the hunt,” he told himself. These were affirmations that his therapist told him would help set the mood for the rest of the day. “You are a grizzly bear. You are a great white shark. You are a medium steak.”

Lucifer put on his morning bathrobe and kept his hair in curlers. It was just Charlie, she’d seen him in curlers plenty of times! He whistled as he made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. He could hear her giggling in the kitchen and he smiled to himself—she was already in a good mood, how wonderful!

“Good morning sweetie!” Lucifer bellowed as he entered the kitchen. His giddy smile turned into a frown of horror and he froze in place. His scowl was met with a grin, and it wasn’t his darling Charlie who grinned back at him, oh no.

It was that wretched fiend, the Radio Demon.

“Good morning to you,” Alastor replied. The smugness of his voice was plain as day. He sat at the kitchen bar with a cup of coffee in front of him and the morning newspaper already unfolded and in his hands. This man had a lot of nerve to come into his house and touch his newspaper before he even had a chance to read the comics!

“You,” Lucifer growled. “I-you-how—where’s Charlie?”

The pantry door opened and his daughter walked out carrying a pack of oatmeal. “This is our last maple brown sugar,” Charlie said. She noticed that her father was in the kitchen. “Oh! Hi dad! How did you sleep?”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. He knew when his daughter was being overcompensating to hide her guilt. “How long have we had a house guest, Char?” he asked.

Charlie’s eyes were nearly blown out of their sockets. “What do you mean? Al is joining us for breakfast!”

“Yes, I see he’s made himself quite at home. Touching my newspaper and drinking my coffee,” Lucifer said, trying his best to hold back his snarl.

Alastor took a rather loud sip from his coffee cup. “I understand that you’re a private morning person. I can’t imagine many people have seen you in your slippers and curlers.”

Lucifer instinctively touched the curlers in his hair. “It gives me volume,” he said.

“I’m sure it does.” Not that Alastor would ever have to wear curlers, given his hair’s natural bounce and thickness. Of course this man would have good hair genes, of course. One more reason to hate him.

“So um, what would you like, dad? Eggs and bacon?” Charlie asked, trying to steer the attention off of Alastor. “I can make some biscuits if you’ve got any buttermilk.”

Lucifer padded through the kitchen in his duck-patterned house slippers. “I’ll start with coffee,” he said. Charlie went to go sit next to Alastor at the kitchen bar. “So,” Lucifer said as he got down his coffee mug. “What time did you get here this morning, Alastor?”

“Oh, it was definitely in the morning,” he answered.

In the past, Lucifer was proficient at “putting the heat” on Charlie’s love interests. Some of them he liked, some of them he didn’t like, and until Alastor came along there were none that he detested. It was easy for him to go into his protective father role and really make them feel uncomfortable and squirm under pressure. However, as Lucifer looked at the Radio Demon, he saw nothing but an eagerness to accept the unspoken challenge. Charlie, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

“Were you really practicing your lines last night, Charlie?” Lucifer asked.

She turned beet red. “Oh, uh, um…”

“No, she wasn’t,” Alastor said instead. He said it as casually as if he was asked the time. He took another loud sip of his coffee.

Lucifer gritted his teeth and turned his back on the two so he could pour his coffee. “Well, you better start practicing, Charlie. Carmine’s event is tonight and you’ll be speaking in front of a lot of people.”

“I know,” Charlie said in a small, defeated voice.

“I know a thing or two about speaking in front of crowds. I can coach her,” Alastor said. “Although I don’t think I’ll need to, Charlie is quite capable herself.” She laughed nervously.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Lucifer said. “And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to peruse my newspaper over my cup of coffee.”

“Sure,” Alastor agreed, folding the paper up. “I just finished. I think you’ll enjoy the article on page nine.”

“Well, now I know there’s an article. Thanks for ruining the newspaper for me.” Lucifer snatched the paper from him. “I think I’ll have my quiet time in my study. Charlie, I shall see you tonight. Angel is coming over at ten to help me prepare for my public appearances next week.” It was Angel who suggested the curlers in hair idea.

Charlie looked like she’d had enough, but Alastor was quite enjoying himself in the misery. “We’ll see you later without a doubt,” he said. When Lucifer disappeared into his office, Charlie wasted no time to elbow Alastor in the ribs. She only made him chuckle in amusement. “Why do you have to antagonize him?!” she hissed.

To him, asking that question was like asking why a cat played with a mouse before eating it for dinner. “Because I can,” he answered. “Come on, let’s get our day started the right way! We’ve got a lot to in preparation for tonight!”

~*~*~*~

“Oh this is so much fun! This reminds me of when we got ready for the Mardi Gras parade!”

Rosie was in a chipper mood that Saturday afternoon. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be: she slept in, drank her latte, and watched her garbage reality shows. The producer had an invite to the Carmine ball because of her job, she was asked by the Seven Rings Station to work the announcement table with her co-host.

The co-host who happened to be Vox.

“So what will your job be tonight?” Charlie asked curiously. She was busy applying Rosie’s eye shadow; a black color to match Rosie’s black knee-length dress.

“Oh, I just read the cue cards and announce who donated what and how much, standard charity lines,” Rosie replied. “And the one-hundred dollar donation from Joe Schmo for the orphan cause, let’s give him a round of applause, thanks Joe. Stuff like that.” Charlie grinned and Rosie smirked, pleased with herself. It was always a delight to make the Morningstar woman laugh.

“This is my first time going, too!” Emily proudly proclaimed. She sat down next to Rosie on the couch while Vaggie did her makeup. Her color was baby blue to match the shade of her dress. “Thanks for going with me, Vaggie. Sera wasn’t all that interested in attending tonight.”

Sera, as the group learned in their short time with Emily, was a sensitive topic. It was unclear if the sisters were on speaking terms or not, but whatever happened, Emily chose to be in their company instead of Sera’s. Vaggie shook her head. “It should be me who thanks you! I wouldn’t be able to go otherwise. Seeing as Charlie already chose her plus one already.” She was teasing, of course. It was obvious that Alastor would be Charlie’s plus one.

Charlie shrugged. “Even if we weren’t together, I’d bring him as my business partner.”

“We know,” Rosie, Angel, and Vaggie said in unison.

Everyone gathered at Niffty’s apartment to get ready for the ball, since Angel had taken most of the makeup and materials needed to look glamorous. He was lounged out on the bean bag that he took from the shared apartment and letting his nail polish dry. “I haven’t been able to glam up and be pretty for so long,” Angel groaned. “That is one thing I missed about my old job. The makeup team.”

“Were you a theater actor?” Emily asked innocently.

Vaggie almost screwed up her eyeliner, she laughed so hard. “He acted alright,” Vaggie said.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I did, in fact, act!” Angel yelled defensively. He would have crossed his arms, but that would have messed up his nails. “I was a porn star, Emily. The best of the best. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

Vaggie was about to snap at him and tell him that not everyone watches porn, but Emily just laughed at his answer. “Oh, I didn’t know!” she giggled. “Sorry, I don’t watch porn. That’s great for you, though! The closest I’ve ever gotten to porn is the intense make out scene in the Notebook. The one in the rain. Ooh, that gives me chills every time I see it.”

Angel wanted to ask Charlie what rock she looked under when she found Emily. This was his first time meeting her, all he knew about her previously was what he saw on Katie Killjoy when she stood up on the chair with Charlie and defended her project. Past that, he didn’t know a single thing about her, but she was starting to remind him of a naive version of Charlie.

“Bless your heart,” Rosie said. That pretty much summed it up and Angel grinned in appreciation.

“Anyway,” Charlie said, moving on with the conversation. “Does Al know that you’re hosting the charity with Vox?”

Rosie chuckled. “He’ll figure it out when he sees me sat down next to him.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Would you like me to tell him and ruin his mood for the evening?”

Charlie made a face. Rosie had a good point. “Why do they have such bad blood, anyway?”

Rosie shrugged. “You’re asking a question I’ve been asking myself for years, darling. Don’t worry about me and Vox, we’re professionals. You just worry about having a good time.” Rosie always said the right things, at least to Charlie it seemed like she did.

“She’s right,” Vaggie agreed. “It doesn’t matter who’s at the ball, we’re going to have a good time!”

~*~*~*~

When Charlie thought of a charity ball, she thought about an adult version of prom: people dressed up nice, a backdrop for photos to be taken, tables of food and drinks, a punch table, maybe a chocolate fountain, and a stage with a podium for the host and speakers to talk to the crowd.

The Morningstar woman was surprised to find that the Carmine Charity Ball was much much different than her senior prom. She walked into the building, held at the Carmine Mansion Estate, and saw hundreds and hundreds of people all dressed in formal attire. The mansion had no issue holding all these people. There were waiters dressed with little bow ties walking around with trays of champagne and finger food that was probably much more intricate than a piece of cheese on a ritz cracker. What surprised Charlie the most were the gathered crowds around various objects spread around the room. She spotted a guitar, a car, several framed paintings, a piano, and many more items, both big and small, surrounded by velvet rope so no one could touch them.

“Why on earth are these things here?” Charlie asked Rosie.

Charlie, Vaggie, Rosie, and Emily decided to all go together. Alastor insisted on going to the event first so he could “check it out” and promised Charlie that the moment she walked in the gala that he was hers for the evening. He was more paranoid than ever, but given that he had a gun in his face the other night, Charlie played along. She felt bad for him to feel so overcome with strife and stress, even at an event like this one. The Carmines made their money by arms dealing—there was security, no doubt about that.

Rosie laughed at her question. It wasn’t a mocking one, just a giggle of amusement. “It’s a charity ball, silly girl,” Rosie answered. “These things were donated by the different elites of the city in order to be auctioned on and bought, and the money is given to charity.”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed. “Duh! So people are really going to buy that car and that guitar and that, um, washing machine?”

“Yes, and I’ll be keeping everyone informed with Vox,” Rosie replied. She snagged herself a glass of champagne from a waiter who walked by. “You girls enjoy yourselves, I’ll be on duty tonight. Good luck, Charlie.” She gave the younger woman a quick hug and sauntered off into the crowd. There were a few heads who turned when she walked by; Rosie pulled off black incredibly well.

Emily wore a baby blue dress that was more intended for church potlucks, with a high collar, three-quarter sleeves, and the dress down to her knees, but she looked great nonetheless. Vaggie wore a gold dress that showed her back and tied her hair with a matching golden bow. Charlie knew she had to make a statement with her outfit and red was a passionate, aggressive color. It also happened to be a certain Radio Demon’s favorite. She wore a red dress with a sweetheart neckline, one that hugged her body and went mid-thigh, sleeveless, and a pair of black tights and black heels to go with it. She tied her blonde locks up into a messy bun and purposely let loose strands hang down over her ears.

“Well, should we dance?” Emily asked.

“There’s no music playing,” Vaggie said. “And I’m not sure people dance at these functions.”

“We should find Carmilla Carmine and tell her thank you again,” Charlie said. “But I’m sure she’s like super busy, so uh… I’m not sure what we should do.”

Vaggie elbowed her best friend. “I know what you want to do, Charlie. Find Alastor.”

Emily was starting to piece together the dynamic of this friend group. It was okay to do some light teasing. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” she said. She giggled to herself. “Heehee, I’m so bad!”

Vaggie lowered her voice so Emily couldn’t hear her. “Were you two k-i-s-s-i-n-g last night or were you f-u-c—”

“DO NOT,” Charlie shrieked. Her face matched the shade of her dress. “Okay, yup, I’ll go find Alastor! I’ll see you ladies later!”

Without another word, Charlie scampered off into the crowd. Emily made a face and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh no, do you think I embarrassed her when I spelled out kissing?”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “No, I think you’re safe.”

~*~*~*~

Alastor wasn’t impressed by the various donations made by the socialites of the city that were put up for auction. He never was. What may seem as luxurious to the common eye looked tacky to his. This was a glorified yard sale for the rich where they gave away things that they didn’t need anymore but the items were much nicer than any regular 9-5 minimum wage worker could ever afford. All for charity!

He made his way through the crowd like a snake, slithering in and out of crowds of people with practiced ease. He made sure to look the part, like he’d ever be caught at function such as this one in anything but his best. Even if he found the event itself to be trivial, it was still a function that required effort in appearance. Alastor traded his glasses for contacts and wore his special prescription grade monocle over his right eye. Why not, his right eye was weaker than his left and this was a fancy function, a monocle made sense. It complemented the rest of his ensemble, which was red, of course.

The point of showing up earlier than Charlie was not to raise an eyebrow at the items for auction, although it was inevitable as he walked past some of them. Some of these donated objects were plain tacky. He couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than someone donating their flatscreen TV, whoever they were. That wasn’t important right now. His job was to look over the place and see if there was anything suspicious. What that thing would be, he didn’t know. Men dressed in black with sunglasses, people talking in the shadows or corners of the room conspicuously. It was his ears that lead him because that night at the strip club, it was the man’s voice that Alastor heard loud and clear:

“We keep very clean trails.”

There was no good way to spin that. None at all.

Alastor checked his wristwatch. Charlie and the girls should be arriving soon, courtesy of Rosie who volunteered to drop them off. She was surprisingly eager to help out for the evening. Speak of the devil, the producer walked past Alastor and sat down at a white-tablecloth covered table with two seats pulled up and a set of microphones on the table.

“Rosie?” Alastor asked.

She looked up at him. “Oh, hey Al!”

There was no mistaking the black dress and smoky eye makeup that she intentionally put on. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

The answer was obvious, of course, but he had to ask anyway. “I’m working, boss,” Rosie grinned. “The boys upstairs at the radio station asked me. I’m doing the announcing. I didn’t want to ruin your evening.” Rosie had seen the monocle on Alastor before; it was proof enough that this evening was important for him. He didn’t break out the monocle for just anything.

“Why, I’m glad they asked you!” Alastor exclaimed. “Why would that ruin my evening?”

Rosie gave him a closed mouth smile. “Oh, you know… it’s a two person job…”

The answer presented himself in a black tuxedo and strong cologne. Vox came out of nowhere, his mouth open wide as he laughed, and a glass of champagne in his hands. “Did you see those people checking out the flatscreen?” he asked Rosie. He didn’t even notice his archenemy yet, he was so excited. “I bet that will go for ten grand! People love it!”

Rosie waited for the two men to notice each other. “Cool, very cool,” she said casually.

Vox plopped down in his seat next to Rosie. “I donated it! It’s the best of the flatscreen TV lines, a real beauty. You won’t miss a single thing on that screen, I promise you that. It comes with surround sound and has color-changing mode. It’s a beauty, Rosie, it’s gorgeous, it’s pheno—ooh, what’s he doing here?”

The excitement in Vox’s voice died when he saw Alastor standing before them, regarding him with an equally hostile expression. “Vox is your partner?” Alastor hissed.

“That’s right,” Vox snapped back. “Not only am I getting paid to be here, but I was asked to donate an item for the cause and my name will be on the back of the complimentary t-shirts. How does that make you feel, huh?”

Alastor pretended to look at his fingernails for any dirt, as if the conversation was so dull that he needed a distraction. “I’m so glad that people are willing to pay money for your used picture box,” he said. “It’s truly a testament to the saying ‘one man’s trash is another man’s treasure’, isn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t know treasure, you monocled freak!” Vox growled. “That television is the best of its kind!”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s the best trash in the dumpster, Vox.”

Vox leaned forward but Rosie held him back and forced him into his seat. “Alright, we’ve got work to do,” Rosie snapped. “Alastor, I’ll see you later. Leave, please.”

Alastor “hmphed” and turned his back to them. “As it happens, Rosie, I was already leaving.”

He walked away with his head held high. It was time to find Charlie, anyway. The task was easier said than done given the hundreds and hundreds of people at this function and the constant noise of chattering. He decided that his best bet was to go to the front entrance, assuming that Charlie hadn’t wandered off too far from when she walked in.

As he walked through the crowd, he was distracted by the hired band for the evening’s event. Carmilla Carmine actually hired a jazz band to play for this event instead of using the indoor speakers. How out of character for her, usually she hired whatever trash pop band her daughters told her to book. The band was dressed up in suit and tie and played a song that Alastor recognized. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy the live music; if he closed his eyes and imagined hard enough, he was back at his jazz club with Charlie at his side, both of them dancing together. So much had happened since their first proper date, but what a fun evening that had been.

How long had it been since they had fun together without a care in the world? It felt like they both hadn’t caught a proper break between Valentino and Adam.

Alastor snapped out of it. He needed to find Charlie. When he turned away from the band and faced the room, he saw a short blonde woman dressed up in a 1930s dapper get up. She stared right at him. This woman was not Charlie, but this was a woman he knew.

He stiffened when he saw her, as if the sight of her turned him to stone.

She immediately noticed him. “Oh my God!” her nasally voice cried. “It’s been way too long! Hi Alastor!”

The woman leapt at him and grabbed him in a tight hug. He was stunned, he didn’t know what to say. “Hello,” was all he could manage.

“You look just the same! You are a vision! Oh, Alastor, baby I’ve missed you so much!” The woman buried her face into his stomach, which is where her face went up to given her short height, and she set him down. Her hands were dangerously close to his ass, instead lingering in the small of his back. “Don’t you remember me?” she asked with a cloyingly sweet voice. Alastor put his hands on her shoulders and tried to push her away, but she mistook his hands as a hug. “Don’t be shy!” she giggled as she adjusted his hands to be by the small of her waist. “What are the odds we see each other here? It must be a sign, Al! You were meant to circle back into my orbit!”

Alastor couldn’t explain why he was unable to move. It was unlike him; he was not a freeze reaction nor was he a flight reaction, he prided himself on his fight instinct every time. This was not a fight instinct in the slightest. He felt like he was made of stone and couldn’t move; the only sensation he was aware of was how hard his heart hammered in his chest. He needed to get away from this woman.

“Hi, you must be Mimzy,” a new voice said.

Alastor snapped his head to the side. There, standing before him looking like an absolute vision, was his Charlie. If it weren’t for the woman that he had hoped that he’d never see again, he would have been awestruck by how gorgeous the Morningstar woman was before him. But as it happened, Mimzy still had her claws in him.

“Aww, you look cute,” Mimzy said. She let go of Alastor. He hastily put distance between them. She didn’t notice his erratic movements. “I’m indeed Mimzy, how flattering you recognized me! Have you seen The Mimz perform before?”

The Mimz? Alastor thought. He looked back towards the band. Low and behold was the sign in front of them that said “Live Tonight! The Mimz Musical Group!” in big, bold words. He cursed himself that he was too distracted by the band to see who exactly they were.

Charlie seemed to piece together the same information right as he did. “Oh, uh, I haven’t,” she said nervously. “I’m sure you sound great!”

Mimzy gave Charlie a tight-lipped smile. “More than great, doll, we’re one of the best. Look, it was nice meeting you, but I’ve got some catching up to do with an old friend of mine.” Mimzy turned towards Alastor only to discover that he stepped away from her and next to Charlie. She stared at the blonde woman with a hostile expression when she saw how close he was to her.

“So sorry Mimzy,” Alastor said. He felt like he had more control over himself once he was away from his ex and next to his lover. “I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Charlie.”

Charlie wasn’t sure if she imagined the eye twitch on Mimzy or not. “Girlfriend,” she repeated, as if she’d never heard the word before. “Hahahaha! You? You, Alastor? Oh, you must be joking. Come on, you’re not interested in girlfriends, or friends of any kind. Isn’t that what you told me?

An old wound was being rehashed right before Charlie’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine if the roles were reversed and Alastor witnessed a reunion between her and Seviathan. She would die.

“That is what I told you,” Alastor agreed, his voice tight. “And then I met Charlie and I changed my mind. Simple as that.”

Charlie tried extending her hand for a friendly shake. She felt beyond uncomfortable but what was the harm in trying? “Nice to meet you,” she said with a tremble in her voice.

All Mimzy did was stare at her hand. Charlie let it drop down to her side like a deflated balloon. Mimzy “hmphed” and put her hands on her hips. “Oh you poor honey,” she said. “I can’t imagine getting into a relationship with him all over again. You must like playing with broken toys.”

Charlie inhaled sharply. “Hey!”

“I get it, he’s pretty to look at,” Mimzy continued. “But that is a damaged man right there, just a heads up, woman to woman. He might be fun to have a go-around with, but he’s not long game, fyi. How did y’all even get together?”

Alastor held Charlie firmly in place so she wouldn’t get any closer to the shorter woman. “As a matter of fact, he’s been one of the biggest helpers for my rehabilitation project!” Charlie yelled. The embarrassment was gone and replaced with righteous anger. How dare she say that about Alastor, the nerve of her! “And you have no right to talk about him like that, you bitch!”

“Charlie, it’s quite alright,” Alastor assured. He wanted to get as far away as possible.

Her head snapped up to his and he saw that her pupils were practically balls of fire in her eyes. “No, it’s not,” Charlie said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I get it now!” Mimzy exclaimed. “Charlie Morningstar, you’re the delusional bitch who thinks she can save the crackheads of this city. Ha! That’s a hoot. And you think Alastor actually gives a shit about your program? Oh Alastor, still the same silver-tongued liar like when we were kids.” Mimzy shook her head and smirked. “The day Alastor has any hope in humanity, let alone believes in redemption, is the day hell freezes over in ice.”

Alastor took a step back from her and took Charlie with him. “I think we’ve caught up enough,” he said, his voice firm. “Mimzy, have a good evening. Don’t talk to me or Charlie again.”

“Yeah? Or what? You’ll hurt me, Mr. Tough Guy?” Mimzy laughed and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

When Alastor was sure that she was gone, he let go of his squirming Charlie. She nearly stumbled to her feet given her heels but recovered. Alastor looked at her in awe; she was like a ball of pure, concentrated fury. “I’ve never seen you like that,” he mused.

“That bitch!” Charlie shrieked. “Ugh, how dare she touch you like that! How dare she say that! She said you were damaged!”

“I’m afraid she’s not too far off the mark, Charlotte.”

“Oh no, don’t you start this. I refuse to hear it. Fuck. I need a drink.”

It occurred to him that Charlie was getting this worked up for him. Mimzy was the only other woman who could claim Alastor as a previous boyfriend. It was a surprise she didn’t say anything worse about him than what she did. Alastor realized that he was trembling; the adrenaline that coursed through his veins wouldn’t cease. It made him feel trapped in his skin when Mimzy hugged him and wouldn’t let him go. He felt like he would have gone insane if she had held him any longer.

Charlie took a few deep breaths and calmed herself down. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a few octaves lower. “I shouldn’t have let my anger get the better of me.”

Alastor couldn’t help it, he smiled. “Look at who you’re apologizing to,” he said. “I’m the one who got in a fist fight on live television. Thank you, Charlie.”

“For what?”

“For coming to my defense. I’m afraid there’s no honor of mine to defend, but you made a valiant effort regardless.” Alastor squeezed her hand. “You won’t have to speak to her again. I promise.”

Charlie shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

~*~*~*~

“Good evening everyone, and welcome to the Carmine Charity Gala Extravaganza! I’m Rosie—”

“And I’m Vox, best known on Vox Ne—”

“And we’re your hosts for this evening! Let’s give a warm welcome to Carmilla Carmine of the Carmine Industries so she can kick this event off!” Rosie put her hand over the microphone and glared at Vox. “They know who you are,” she hissed.

He narrowed his eyes back at her. “I’m the main host here, not you. I’m the one with my own show.”

No one noticed the hostility between the two announcers as Carmilla Carmine walked out onto the center stage and was the center of attention of the room. She wore heels proudly and stood tall and beautiful in a full-length black dress that had a slit cut out to show her left leg. “Thank you everyone who came out tonight,” Carmilla said into the microphone. “It’s such an honor to be able to host this charity gala, and a big thank you to everyone who has donated to the auction portion of the evening. One-hundred percent of our proceeds go to charity! Together we can truly make this city feel like a community. Without further ado, let’s get the auction going, then we’ll go into our commemorative speeches!”

The audience erupted into applause. The band started playing their jazz music and Mimzy began to scat along to the tunes, shaking her hips to the beat as she did so.

Charlie wasn’t the only Morningstar in attendance that evening. As if Lucifer wasn’t invited, he was expected to show up. He arrived in a white tuxedo with a red bow tie and his signature red apple brooch to add a little sparkle. This charity was different from all the previous ones he attended for one reason; he brought along his campaign manager.

Angel knew that he couldn’t outshine his boss (it wasn’t professional) so instead he matched Lucifer’s energy with a white outfit of his own. His clothes had much more sparkle to them and were tailored better, but the student learned well from the master. Lucifer sashayed his hips as he walked down the red carpet that lead to the gala entrance. There were paparazzi on both sides eager to get a picture.

“Short King! Over here!” a paparazzi called.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder and made direct eye-contact with the man. He gave his lips a little pucker, just like Angel taught him.

The man fell over. “Someone call an ambulance I’m having heart palpitations,” he grumbled out.

Lucifer, who was too focused on the flashing lights, didn’t even notice. Angel nodded in approval. “You’re reaching dangerous levels of sexy, Short King,” he commented.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lucifer replied. The two entered the building. “Seems like the event has already started,” Lucifer mused. “I’ll go mingle with some people, why don’t you try and find Charlie and your friends? If I need you I’ll give you the signal.”

Angel raised a brow. “Sir, I’d prefer it if you didn’t start quacking in a place like this.”

Lucifer held up his phone. “I meant I’d call you.”

“Oh. Right.”

Angel was glad to get some time to himself and see what the girls were up to. The evening just started and there was a lot yet to go down. He let his collar loose and grabbed himself a glass of bubbly and made his way through the party. He spotted Vaggie and Emily near the dessert station and made his way over. “Hey sluts,” he greeted.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Wha-wha-what did you just call us?!”

Vaggie stepped on Angel’s foot. “Tone it down, huh? Fuck. Oh, sorry Emily.”

Angel laughed. This was too easy. “I’m just messing with y’all, sorry. How’s it going, ladies?”

“We had some fruit and now we’re eating some mini chocolate cakes!” Emily exclaimed in delight.

“And that’s it, huh?”

Vaggie shrugged. “Have a look around, there’s not much to do. Unless you want to put all of your life savings on a lavish item that you can’t afford.”

“Who says? What stuff?”

“Look around, Angel. This placed is filled with stuff for you to bid on and most items start at one-thousand dollars. I liked that vanity desk but the starting bid is two-thousand dollars.” Vaggie huffed and blew the strand of hair out of her eyes. “We’re here for Charlie. She’s somewhere with Alastor.”

Angel took the last chocolate cake off of Vaggie’s plate and ate it in one bite. “You’re here strictly for Charlie, but I’m actually here for work. Lucifer needs his campaign manager.”

“Oh sorry, are we distracting you from your job?” Emily asked innocently.

“A little bit, yeah,” Angel replied. Vaggie stomped on his other foot. “Jeez! I was gonna hangout with y’all, but since you wanna be like that, I’ll leave. See ya later, toots.” Angel held his head up high and walked away from them, sashaying his hips like the true master he was.

Emily blinked. “I’m about to say something really really really mean, please forgive me,” she whispered.

Vaggie’s expression remained deadpan. “Shoot.”

“Angel is kinda mean.” Emily covered her mouth after she said it.

Vaggie wondered how long this evening was going to end up being. “That’s one way to put it.”

~*~*~*~

Charlie didn’t like being the jealous type. It went against her nature and made her feel like bad person who didn’t trust in people. What did it say about her if she didn’t trust Alastor?

Maybe she would have handled it better if she had been more prepared. She had no clue that Mimzy of all people would be at this event, and given Alastor’s expression and the way he stiffened up like a stone statue in Mimzy’s arms, he didn’t know either. What luck was it that he went over ten years without seeing his ex (his only ex, just one fucking person in this city) and the night he does see her is the night Charlie has to make one of the most important speeches of her life.

“Sitcoms are supposed to be funny,” Charlie groaned to herself. She often thought her life was a sitcom and this was season three, but it looked like the writers decided they wanted to complicate her life.

How could she not be jealous? Mimzy was Alastor’s first girlfriend! Mimzy knew him when he was a young man, and from the sound of it, she even met his mother before she passed. After all, Alastor only stayed in a relationship with her as long as he did because his mother implored him to do so. Did Mimzy go to his childhood home and have dinner with him and his mother? Did she have long conversations on the porch with them drinking a glass of tea or a cup of coffee? Did Alastor ever tell her about his father? Did she attend his mother’s funeral? Did she hold him close after his mother’s passing and tell him it was going to be okay?

“Fuck,” Charlie muttered. She was getting choked up. This couldn’t happen, no, not tonight. She couldn’t fix her makeup and pretend the red in her eyes was from allergies, everyone would know better. Alastor hadn’t noticed her mini breakdown yet, he was pulled into a conversation with one of the radio sponsors and Charlie stood a few feet away from him and waited patiently for them to finish chatting. She lost herself in her thoughts as she did so, which proved to be more dangerous than productive.

She looked at Alastor as he spoke to the business man. He stood so tall with such perfect posture like he was a movie star. Mimzy called him damaged and he agreed with her without any fight at all. Did he really have such a low opinion of himself? Or did he simply prefer the misery?

Charlie’s heart lurched in her chest. She wished that it had been her that Alastor met all those years ago; she would have held him tight at his mother’s funeral.

“Well hello princess.” The familiar voice was a welcome distraction. Charlie was pleased to see Husk, even if she was a bit surprised as well. Husk noticed the tears brimming her eyes. “Don’t tell me Alastor was being a dick,” he growled.

She smiled. “No! No, not at all. Hi Husk. How did you get an invite?”

“What, you think I’m too much of a commoner to be invited?” he retorted. He did so with a teasing smirk. “Boss Man wanted me here for security purposes and pulled a few strings.”

“But Carmilla Carmine has plenty of security! You should be able to enjoy the party!”

Husk didn’t seem all the impressed by everything around him. “This isn’t really my scene,” he said. “And I don’t mind. I owe Alastor one, you know. He’s the reason I don’t have a gun pointed at my face.”

He was referring to the previous night. Charlie’s eyes widened at the realization. This was exactly the distraction she needed. “What happened, Husk? Are things really looking that sketchy?”

“Maybe not now at this place,” Husk mused. “But I think Alastor has a right to be paranoid, princess. I don’t want to even imagine the kind of world war three that would happen if anything happened to you. He’d burn the city down.”

Husk’s words should have scared her, or at least alarmed her, but instead they eased her earlier anxiety. “Thanks,” Charlie whispered.

“Ah, Husker,” Alastor said. He finished his conversation and stood next to Charlie. “Glad you could make it.”

“Nice monocle.”

“Thank you! I think it adds a bit of dapper to my outfit.” Alastor put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Shall we find a place to practice your speech?”

“Sure! Bye Husk!”

The older man watched the two scurry away and off into the crowd. “For fuck’s sake,” Husk muttered. Something told him that there would be very little practicing of her speech and more practicing of something else.

~*~*~*~

The night progressed well and the first hour of the auction wrapped up. “Sold! The one-hundred percent real silver toaster goes to the Harris gentleman for eight-thousand dollars!” Vox announced. Carmine gave him and Rosie the signal. “Well folks, we’re going to take a quick break. Next up on the auction list is the flatscreen TV, one of the best in the line, certainly worth more than a toaster,” Vox said. He switched off his microphone and leaned back in his seat with a dramatic sigh.

“Eight-thousand dollars for a toaster,” Rosie mused. “Makes me wonder how much he spends on his fucking bread, you know? Does he grow the grains himself and bake it every morning?”

Vox’s frown threatened to crack into a smile. He resisted. “Nope, no, stop. You’re not making me laugh, missy.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You are the producer of my enemy. It’s time we stopped blurring the lines. We can’t be friends.”

“Laughing at my jokes doesn’t make us friends.”

“It’s a slippery slope, Rosie.” Vox stood up and adjusted his tuxedo jacket. “I’ll be back. I’m telling you as a professional courtesy, not because we’re friends.”

Well, if they weren’t friends, Rosie didn’t feel bad about openly rolling her eyes at his stupidity. “Have fun,” she said dryly, waving him off. She should get up and get something to drink, there was plenty more talking to be done.

Rosie walked around the party and looked for a waiter carrying a champagne tray. To her dismay, there were plenty of items yet to be auctioned and speeches still needed to be had. There was one item that had multiple people surrounding it, so many that Rosie couldn’t see what it could possibly be. Her curiosity got the better of her and she walked closer to see what it was. She already auctioned off a toaster and next up was Vox’s used flatscreen TV, it could be anything.

It was a vintage 1930s radio. It was big, bulky, and had an arched top, with a little radio dial and four little knobs at the bottom for adjustment. Rosie didn’t realize it was a radio at first until she recognized the old piece of history. The wood was polished and the radio shined nicely in the room light. “Well, aren’t you an old little cutie,” Rosie mused with a small smile.

“Well thank you.” She turned to her left and saw an older man who smiled mischievously at her. “I’m joking,” he said. “Are you a fan of ancient things?”

Rosie was unsure if this question was code for something else. “Not me,” she said. “My boss. He’d love this little radio.”

“Ah, very good, very good. Most of the items that people put up for auction are absolute crap, you know. It’s all about what’s the biggest and the best, people never care about the sentimental.” The old man was dressed up sharply. He had pointy features and seemed like a quick thinker. “These charities are a joke. All these people want is money and they’ll tell the saddest sob story in order to get it.”

“Not everyone,” Rosie argued. Not Charlie.

“Everyone, I assure you. I’ve been giving money to these bloodhounds for awhile, missy.”

Rosie put two and two together. “You’re Zestial,” she said.

He grinned at that. “Ah, you recognize me? Usually the people who know my face are the people who have read up on me so they can appeal to me for money.”

“Luckily for you, I know your face because I’m in radio. I have a vague idea of all the socialites of this city,” Rosie said. “But I won’t lead you on, I do have a very dear friend of mine who is trying to get her program funded.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” Zestial put his hand to his chin and pretended to muse over the radio. “I don’t like to donate to controversial figures. When they cause problems it always comes back on me. The other members of the board can feel however they want, but typically most of them follow in my footsteps.”

In other words, if Zestial didn’t back the Hazbin Hotel, it was unlikely the others would. “My friend is not controversial in the slightest,” Rosie said.

Zestial laughed. “Oh, I think she is, dear. Her father is running for mayor and her… shall I say, lover made his career off being a very opinionated man.” He grinned.

So he knew I was talking about Charlie this whole time, Rosie thought. She steadied herself. “Just wait for Charlie’s speech. She’s authentic. She genuinely wants to help people in her program. Even if she didn’t get your money, she’d find a way to make it work. I know she would.”

“You seem to have a lot of faith in her. We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Zestial nodded and made his way back through the crowd, leaving Rosie alone with the 1930s radio.

Rosie forgot all about getting a drink. Her mind raced with everything he just told her. “Charlie, wherever you are, just be your sweet, sunshine self and you’ll be just fine.”

Later, during Charlie’s speech…

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HIM, YOU BITCH!”

Rosie shrank into her seat and covered her mouth with both hands. Besides her, Vox smirked in delight. In the audience, Lucifer gasped in horror. Angel stared in a mixture of pride and disbelief. Husk smirked that the princess actually had that level of vitriol in her. Emily covered her ears. Vaggie stared with both eyes wide open. Mimzy grinned in satisfaction and held onto Alastor tighter, who was still as a statue and all the color drained from his face.

Everyone witnessed Charlie Morningstar lose her composure. The room went silent and all eyes were on Charlie while she was on stage.

“Let’s see her get out of this one,” Vox grinned. First his flatscreen sold for four-thousand dollars and now Charlie was making a mockery of herself and by proxy, Alastor. This was turning out to be a fantastic evening.

Notes:

And there we have it, sinners!

This chapter was short(er??) than what I wanted and I know it kind of ended abruptly, BUUUUUUT it's because the scenes going into next week's chapter go together and it made sense to end it here even if it wasn't the smoothest landing xD

I didn't initially plan on bringing in Mimzy but the opportunity presented itself and I decided to pursue it. So I know it may be OOC for Alastor to be so shell-shocked when he saw her, but I imagine her as someone who was critical to his past and someone he actively dislikes, and the shock of seeing her made him freeze up (much to his irritations) lol.

So I guess next week we'll find out what events lead up to Charlie calling Mimzy out in front of everyone and what the heck she plans on doing to either make it worse or somehow rectify it.

Thank you so much for the support, lovely readers!!! <3

Chapter 23

Summary:

The night of the charity ball and Charlie has everyone's attention.

Lilith Morningstar, who went as Lilith Magne now, always taught her daughter that if she didn’t have nothing nice to say to not say anything at all. She wanted her little Charlie to grow up to be a polite, well-spoken woman of society. Someone who knew when to bite her tongue and let the fools speak and then eloquently make her point with such grace that they wouldn’t even understand that she called them stupid.

There was no question that Charlie took after her mother in her looks. Height, build, stature, even the long locks of golden hair. She looked like Lilith went into a time machine and grabbed her younger self. She was gorgeous and Lilith knew that with every year she grew older she’d only get more beautiful. She was so proud of her daughter that she took after her in the looks department.

However, the similarities ended at the looks. As far as quirks, Lilith discovered that Charlie was a carbon copy of her father. Every year that Charlie grew older, more quirks appeared. The way she wanted to rhyme her words together, slipping into a random British accent for no apparent reason (“mum could you open the boot of the car for me, heehee that’s how you say the trunk!”), she was clumsy like her father, she’d randomly choke on her spit like her father, she pushed on the door that said pull and smacked into it, pulled on the door that said push and smacked into it, she couldn’t use chopsticks, the list went on and on.

By the time Charlie turned twelve, Lilith accepted the fact that her daughter was an absolute goober.

All of this was to say that if Lilith had been in the audience that evening at the Carmine Charity Ball, she wouldn’t have been surprised one bit that Charlie lost her cool and screamed at Mimzy for the entire room to hear. The fact that she was on stage and had a microphone in front of her face was just a cherry on top.

Charlie knew that she majorly fucked up the moment the words left her lips. All eyes were on her, she alone held the attention of hundreds, if not thousands of people, most of them locals in the city. This was so much worse than Swan Lake. This wasn’t a little middle school production play that she froze up on stage for and forgot her lines—this was a room full of people who may give her project money and she just belted out:

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM, YOU BITCH!”

Mimzy knew exactly what she was doing by the way she grinned menacingly in the audience. Alastor pushed her off of him but the damage was already done. Whatever Mimzy set out to accomplish worked. Alastor’s eyes were fixed on Charlie but so was everyone else.

There’s no way out of this, Charlie thought. She was beyond horrified. All of her hard work, all the blood, sweat, tears, and late night crying sessions were wasted.

Just when it seemed like all hope was gone, everyone’s eyes shifted to the new voice in the room.

“Oh my God, the addiction is so strong inside of me!” Angel cried. He stood up from his seat and walked away from the table to be in the middle of the crowd. The lights shone on Angel and everyone watched as he clenched his chest and fell to his knees. “Years and years of doing drugs and drinking away my woes!” Angel shouted dramatically. “However can I fight the addiction inside of me? Who is there to hold my hand and help me fight my inner demons?!”

If it had been anyone other than Angel, Charlie wouldn’t have known what the fuck to do. But this was her best friend, her ex-roommate, and the one who watched improv youtube videos with her late at night while she waited for her midol to kick in. Charlie knew what Angel was doing—it may not be a good idea, but it was the only idea they had and she would go with it.

“That’s right!” Charlie shouted from the stage. The heads turned back to her. “Get your hands off him, you bitch! The addiction inside of him! The addiction is the bitch!”

Fucking hell she can’t act, Angel thought to himself as he writhed on the carpeted floor. Luckily for Charlie, he had enough talent to carry them both. “Who’s there? I hear a voice!”

Charlie swallowed nervously. “It’s me, lost soul! Charlie Morningstar! Come with me to my Hazbin Hotel, I will help you!” as Charlie spoke, she jumped off stage and scurried over to where Angel was dramatically sprawled out on the floor. The crowds parted for her, miraculously they seemed intrigued. Charlie bent down and leaned over Angel.

Angel grabbed her shoulders. “You need to cry, bitch,” he said in a quick whisper.

“What?” Charlie hissed back.

“You need to pull their heartstrings, cry.” Angel heaved himself up and threw his arms around her shoulders. “Oh, is that you? An angel from heaven? Here to guide me to redemption? I see the light, I’m so close to the sweet release of death.”

Charlie’s mind raced. How was she supposed to cry on demand? She wasn’t an actress! “Follow me, lost soul. Don’t go towards the light. It doesn’t matter, uh, how many sins you’ve committed in your past, all that matters is that you want to change your ways.”

She struggled to get back up to her feet with Angel’s dead weight. He was determined to make her work for this. She managed to stand up with him draped over her like he was drunk. The two hobbled back to the stage, Angel pretending to walk with a limp, and Charlie struggling to balance the two of them with her heels on. “I’m not sure I can stay on the straight and narrow,” Angel sighed dramatically. He clutched his chest and faced the audience once more. “OOOOOHHHHH the addiction! It’s so strong! All I want are drugs, alcohol, and cocksinmyfa—I mean more drugs!”

He had to remind himself that this acting was not for porn.

Charlie was up on the stage and Angel was halfway on the steps. She was trying to wrap her head around the idea of crying. It wasn’t going to happen. She dared to peer out towards the crowd—all eyes were on them and everyone looked like they were enthralled. The only face that looked indifferent was Husk’s, he looked like he was over it. This little improv acting scene needed to be wrapped up.

With a heavy sigh, Charlie let go of Angel and made her way onto the stage first. “You don’t have to follow me now.” Gone was her over the top yelling. She spoke to him like she was in their old apartment and she caught him in the kitchen on a random Tuesday. She talked to him like there was no one else around and it was just them. All the times Angel called her saying that he did lines of coke in Valentino’s studio, all the times he swore this was his last time he’d take anything, and the hundreds of times he told her despairingly it was just to take the edge off. Angel stared at her, wide-eyed and unsure what she’d say next. She smiled, which disarmed him even more. “I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, you know that, right? And I’ll always love you, no matter what happens. When you’re ready to take my hand, I’ll always have it out for you. I’ll never, ever give up on you because you deserve the chance to be redeemed. I’m just honored that you’ll hold my hand through it.”

The tables turned. It was Angel who got choked up, not Charlie. She had only seen him cry a handful of times in all their years of friendship and to see it happen now, on stage, when all she did was pour her heart out to him made her emotional. By the time Angel was on the stage they were both crying. “Thank you, Charlie,” Angel said. He cleared his throat. “And thank you, Hazbin Hotel!”

He pulled Charlie into a hug.

A moment of silence passed.

Then, the room erupted into thunderous applause. People cheered, the clapping intensified, and a few people shouted, “Encore!”

Lucifer couldn’t stop crying. “That was beautiful,” he sobbed. “My little girl is so talented.”

Vaggie had never smiled wider in her life. “You two actually pulled it off,” she said to herself.

Husk prided himself on his poker face, but even he couldn’t resist his smile of disbelief. He was sure that this idea was going to blow up in their faces. “What the fuck was that,” he said to himself but kept the smile on his face.

Finally, Alastor stood front and center in the audience and clapped. He wore a grin of pride. Charlie did it. He knew she could—he loved it when he was proven right.

In all the applause, a loud voice of protest shouted, “NO!”

Everyone turned to see who would dare speak against the performance of a lifetime. Low and behold, the one person who would object to such a show stood by the announcer’s table. His hands balled up into fists, a faint scent of booze coming off of him, his eyes ablaze with fury—Adam Evans.

“If I go down, I’m taking you fuckers with me,” Adam hissed. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to expose a fraud—the Radio Demon himself, Alastor!”

~*~*~*~

After spending all week trying to find Adam, finally seeing him at the Bay St Louis strip club, only to be kicked out at gunpoint with no real lead, it was equally validating and aggravating to see the man stumble his way onto the stage. Alastor knew that something was going to happen. No one stopped him, why would they? He was Adam Evans.

There was no telling if Adam had anything to do with Mimzy. If Charlie was able to find her old MySpace picture by digging, surely Adam was able to do the same. Everything started out with such promise: Charlie was nervous but excited to get on stage and give her speech.

“You’re ready for this,” Alastor had told her.

The two happened to be standing near the announcers table and Rosie was privy to their conversation. Vox was busy talking to whoever bought his flatscreen TV and it was just the three of them. “I concur, stick with her and you’ll be on the winning side,” Rosie grinned.

Charlie flushed a light pink. “I’m ready for this,” Charlie repeated. She waited for her cue from the stage handler to get on stage. “Alastor… thank you. For everything. I’m not sure I’ve ever properly told you thank you.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you have.”

“Well, I mean it. Before I walked into your radio station, I was going in circles with my project. I worked two jobs, barely slept, and scrapped as much money and free time as possible to put into the project. I know Vaggie and Angel have helped me this entire time… but I still felt so lonely. After you came into the picture, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. Thank you.”

Alastor wore his signature grin because he didn’t want to lose his facade in front of all these people. How was he supposed to tell her that he was the lonely one before she came along? “I should be the one thanking you,” he replied, his voice low.

“What do you mean?”

“Charlie Morningstar, it’s time,” the stage handler said. As he did so, Carmilla Carmine finished her introduction to bring Charlie on stage.

She lingered in her spot for a moment before spinning on her heels and climbing up on stage. Alastor watched her take the microphone from Carmilla Carmine. “H-hello everyone. Thank you for coming here tonight and thank you for listening to me.”

Alastor made his way back to the middle of the crowd where he could see better. He was taller than most people at this function and he’d be able to see if anyone got too close to Charlie. She began to speak about her project and the room held their attention on her. So far so good.

The Radio Demon was so busy watching Charlie and whoever was around her that he didn’t pay attention to who got too close to him. By the time he smelled Mimzy’s overwhelming floral perfume it was too late—she grabbed him by the waist and latched onto him like a leech. “Alastor!” Mimzy exclaimed with a coy smile. “I wanted to talk to you just us, doll.”

“Let go of me,” Alastor commanded. He held his arms up so there would be no confusion whether or not he hugged her back.

“C’mon Al, don’t you owe me a conversation? It’s been over ten years. I know we didn’t end things on good terms.”

“I owe you nothing, Mimzy. Who hired you tonight? Was it Carmine?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course it was Carmine! This is her fucking charity ball, silly!” He snarled down at her. Mimzy loosened her arms but still insisted on holding him. “Some guy called us last minute and said the other hired entertainment dropped out. Chill out, Al.”

He didn’t believe her. Nothing changed from the Mimzy she is now from the Mimzy she was when they were nineteen. Even the Mimzy back then always insisted on touching him, whether it was putting her hand on his lap or finding a reason to hug him, and it was always in front of his mother because “look how happy it makes her to see me show affection to you, Al”. Everything was for show and what made her look good. A loving girlfriend in front of his mother, yet an absolute nightmare behind closed doors. She never gave him space. She didn’t listen then, why would she listen now?

It bubbled up inside of him. The feeling of being trapped. It made his skin crawl, his heart threatened to break his rib cage. He had to get away now.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM, YOU BITCH!”

Charlie’s exclamation, although not ideal, also saved Alastor from boiling over. His attention was off of himself and on Charlie as she locked eyes with his from the stage. She must have seen how uncomfortable he looked even from the crowd. Mimzy grinned in challenge. Silence fell over the room and Alastor found his strength to push her off of him.

“Touch me again and you’ll regret it,” he warned.

Mimzy narrowed her eyes at him and disappeared into the crowd.

“Oh my God the addiction is so strong inside of me!” Angel suddenly exclaimed.

Alastor watched the “theatrics” play out between Charlie and Angel. He understood that this was Angel’s impromptu plan to save the evening, and although both of them had questionable acting, the audience didn’t have to know. Charlie was a lot of things—precious, adorable, and sweet—but a good actress was not one of them.

Maybe because she’s not a born liar like you are, Alastor thought bitterly to himself.

However, when Charlie and Angel both climbed back on stage, Charlie didn’t seem like she was acting anymore. She told Angel that she would never give up on him and she would always hold his hand. Her words caused a pang in his chest.

Would she do the same for him? What if he was much worse than Angel and his drug addiction? What was too much for Charlie to handle?

What could a sinner do to make her let go?

Alastor was brought back to the present when thunderous applause broke out. The performance was over and everyone thought it was fantastic. Charlie and Angel hugged and awkwardly did a bow on stage. Alastor forgot his woes to grin and clap for them. “You did it, darling,” he said.

“NO!” a voice objected.

Alastor knew who it was before he turned his head in the direction of the voice. It was the fucker he spent all week trying to catch. Adam stood in the middle of the ballroom, his hands clenched in fists and ready to fight. Something was off about him. This was not the same Adam with the cocky attitude who went on Katie Killjoy. This Adam was snapped.

“If I go down, I’m taking you fuckers with me,” Adam hissed. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to expose a fraud—the Radio Demon himself, Alastor!”

~*~*~*~

Adam stepped up on stage while Charlie held her ground and refused to move from her spot. Angel was close by her side. “At least when I’m an asshole, I’m upfront about it,” Adam said.

“You liar!” Charlie exclaimed.

He grinned. “Oh, I’m the liar? Well it’s time the pot called the kettle black, girly.” Adam took a microphone and addressed the audience. “All of you want to bow down to the Radio Demon. You think he’s so brave and candid because he speaks his mind, but let me ask you… what exactly do you know about Alastor? Do you even know his last name?”

From the audience, Alastor looked across the crowd at Mimzy. She smirked back at him. He knew exactly how she got the gig tonight—she traded information for it. The only one from his past who knew him before he was the Radio Demon. She sold him out. All she had to give Adam was his last name and the papers would take care of the rest.

“That’s just show business,” Mimzy said. She was too far away for Alastor to hear her, but he read her lips. He knew exactly what she told him.

Adam continued, “He grew up known as Alastor LeBlanc, but was born Alastor Breaux, his mother had it legally changed it to her maiden name when he was a child. I’m not a gambling man, but if I had to guess, it was because Alastor’s father was Claude Breaux, the real name of the famous serial killer that the public knows as Wendigo. Ring any bells?”

Charlie found Alastor’s eyes. His face was void of any color, he looked like a wax statue. He was speechless. Not even a grin found his face. He was frozen.

Wendigo.

Alastor never told her who his father was, never even gave her a name. She never wanted to look deeper into it, the wound was too raw for him. Sure, she was tempted. Given her connections and her sleuthing skills, she probably could have found out on her own. Was that foolish in hindsight? Could she have found out Alastor’s birth name and discovered who his father was? If Charlie had known that his father was Claude Breaux, she easily would have found everything she needed to know about his past. She remembered seeing true crime specials about the Wendigo serial killer, until her mother found her watching it and made her turn it off. This man wasn’t just a local legend who stayed in the city; the entire country would know his name if they watched the true crime episodes.

The terrible things Adam said were the very things that haunted Alastor, that made him loathe himself. How do you make peace with the knowledge that the man who helped create you was a monster? That meant that you had to be a monster as well. The worst part about it was that it was true. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Alastor had no choice but to endure it while Adam threw it in his face.

“Enough,” Charlie commanded. Her voice wavered and was broken.

Adam laughed. “Do you know why they called him Wendigo? Because he ate his victims, Charlie. Killed them, skinned them, ate them. Wendigo the Bayou Killer. Over twenty victims over the course of seven years. Did Alastor ever tell you that part? Or did he just give you a sob story that his father was a big bad man?”

The ringing in Charlie’s ears were so loud that she almost couldn’t hear Adam. She felt like she’d fall over and just keep falling. She heard the words that Adam spoke, watched his lips move, but she couldn’t fully process what he told her. Alastor’s father… he was a… cannibal?

Yes, it was coming back to her. The passing articles she’d read about him, the coverage she saw of him on TV. Wendigo the Bayou Killer. The police didn’t find every victim’s body but they did find parts of the deceased. Some body parts were buried in the woods, some were found in the swamp. Didn’t she once read that the Wendigo killer admitted to feeding the remains to the alligators? How could she have ever guessed that evil man was Alastor’s father?

Adam laughed as the crowd erupted in gasps and basked in the horrified energy. The sick enjoyment was obvious on his face. “Do you think you could have redeemed someone like his father, Charlie?” Adam asked with a sneer. “Alastor Breaux doesn’t really believe in redemption, Morningstar. He just wants you to think that he does so he can fuck you in any position he wants. He tells you what he wants you to hear! He’s just as much a bad person as the rest of us. Tell her, Alastor. You don’t really believe in this bullshit, do you?”

“Fuck you,” Alastor said through gritted teeth.

“See!” Adam cried. “Just look at all his years on the air. The Radio Demon has never championed for those considers beneath him. If you really believe in rehabilitating sinners, come up on this stage and say so. Here, you can use my mic.” Adam held out the microphone.

Alastor stepped up on stage. All eyes were on him, but he especially felt the eyes of Rosie, who was stunned still in the audience, and Charlie’s eyes which bulged out of her sockets. He couldn’t recall if there was ever a time he was put on the spot like this before, certainly not in front of this many people. These were people who didn’t matter, people he didn’t give a fuck about. Alastor felt the control slip from his grasp—his carefully crafted persona, all the years spent building up his walls to shield the seeing eye from his Breaux roots.

This was all anyone would see him as from now on. Not Alastor the accomplished Radio Demon, but Alastor the son of the Bayou Killer. His image was ruined.

He couldn’t tell what Charlie felt when she looked at him; he could see the misery in her eyes and he couldn’t blame her for it. He should have told her the full truth about his father. It would have been a smaller pill to swallow than to hear it from Adam. No one else in this room, let alone this fucking city needed to know the truth—but Charlie did. She deserved it.

Was it too late?

Alastor took the microphone from Adam. It felt like it weighed one-hundred pounds in his grasp.

Was this what it felt like to truly face a worthy opponent? All of his radio callers never came close to the level of heat that Evans brought. In all of the misery, there was a challenge that presented itself. It was that challenge that kept Alastor from giving in and calling defeat. If it was one thing his ego could never turn down, it was a challenge. Adam wanted to destroy him… it was up to him to either fight back or do exactly as he said.

The grin returned. He wasn’t going to roll over and take the defeat easily. He’d fight tooth and nail. The Radio Demon came out to play and Alastor took a back seat. It was time for chaos.

Adam’s smug smirk faltered when he saw the menacing grin on Alastor’s face. What leverage could this man possibly have?

“Thanks for the wonderful introduction, Evans,” Alastor said into the microphone. His voice was the same voice that he used on his show; strong, even, and crystal clear. “And another big thanks to Mimzy, who so kindly doxxed me and gave you the information you needed to know in order to find out more about me. I’m sorry, Mimzy. Not for the way I treated you when we dated, oh no, if anything I wish that I broke up with you sooner. I’m sorry that you’ve been in show business for over ten years trying so hard to be famous and you’ll never be more than a time slot to fill at parties. Charlie hasn’t even tried and she already has more recognition than you, that must sting. As for myself, I’m pretty self-explanatory. I can see why you’d be bitter that we’re more naturally talented and likable than you. It must feel awful to be washed out.”

Mimzy looked like she was about to scream. “HOW DAR—”

Husk stepped next to her. “Save it, missy,” he growled. Mimzy’s dramatics died in her throat.

Adam could see that Alastor was gaining steam and didn’t want him to get the upper hand. “I just want you to admit that you’re a fraud like I am,” he sneered. “Just admit to everyone here and Charlie that you don’t give a fuck about these people.”

“I don’t have to admit anything to anyone,” Alastor argued. “I’m not the one who fucked up my mayoral run because I couldn’t keep it together.”

“Oh fuck you.”

Got him. “See? Exactly my point. You can’t even keep it together right now.”

“I’m more put together than you!”

“I’m not the one yelling. What’s wrong, Evans? I don’t see your campaign manager around to keep you in check, is Lute already moved on?”

Adam gritted his teeth. He was losing his upper hand and he needed to dig in with what he had. “How did your father do it? Kill all those people right under your mother’s nose? Did he say he was working doubles at his factory shifts when really he was getting a midnight snack?” Adam smirked when Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever asked him why he did it? Claude Breaux didn’t die in prison until you were older, you could have visited him behind your mother’s back. Did you ever find out what it was about humans that was so tasty?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Adam roared with laughter. “You son-of-a-bitch! What’s it going to take for you to break? Huh? You don’t think people can be saved, why the fuck would you? Your father couldn’t be saved, hell, no one could save your father’s victims! No one could save your mother, not before when she was with your father or after when she found the cancer. That’s right, I found that little detail out, too. You were just a piss poor boy from the bayou, Alastor, and nobody helped you or your piss poor family out. Why would you believe that people can change when nobody tried to change for you?”

Charlie felt like her heart was going to burst in its chest. “Al…” she stammered. His back was to her. She wanted to reach out and touch him but for the first time in her life, she was afraid. The crowd didn’t exist anymore—it was just her and Alastor in a sea of blackness. All she could hear was the loud thump of her heart against her rib cage. She knew that if she could just get him to turn around that she could bring him back. His aura was pitch black. It wouldn’t surprise her if black tentacles sprouted from him. Swirling, dark, and angry.

She reached out her hand and stopped. Her hand shook violently like she had chills. She was afraid.

“You nurture something inside of me.”

Charlie remembered when Alastor said those words to her. He laid himself bare to her, exposed a vulnerable side of himself that no one else had ever seen. She didn’t have the full picture back then when he said it—she had no idea who his father really was. But he trusted her enough to tell her, didn’t he? Maybe he didn’t realize it then, but the truth was plain as day that he told her because he believed in her. Knowing that gave Charlie the courage she needed. Alastor believed in her.

Now was time to prove that nurture was stronger than nature.

Without a second thought, she gently clasped Alastor’s hand.

The audience returned. The blackness was gone and Charlie was back on stage with everyone’s eyes on her. Most importantly, Alastor’s eyes were on her. Whatever darkness was inside of him lightened when his eyes met hers. She cooled his fire. “I’m here,” she whispered.

Alastor faced Adam. “I don’t have to believe in every sinner that walks through the door,” he uttered. “I just have to believe in Charlie, who will do her best to help them. I may not believe in redemption… but I believe that if there was anyone in this city, in this country, hell, on this fucking planet... Charlie Morningstar can redeem them.”

Adam’s eyes burned into his. “You’re putting all of your fucking faith into Lucifer’s fucking daughter? The bitch who has never run a rehab center, let alone get a college degree? The waitress? Seriously? Her?”

“Yes, I am.” Alastor intertwined their hands. “I love Charlie.”

The audience broke out into a second round of thunderous applause. Rosie loudly gushed into the microphone before she turned it off so she could ugly cry, and Vox looked at her in disdain as she did so. Alastor just admitted that he loved Charlie in front of everyone. This was definitely going to trend online!

“Alright, party is over,” Carmilla Carmine ordered. She snapped her fingers and her security team jumped on stage and apprehended Adam.

“She coulda done that at any fucking point,” Angel commented.

“Be quiet you’re ruining the moment,” Husk snapped.

The security guards surrounded Adam. He didn’t resist. Instead, he stared down the two people he’d come to hate the most. “This isn’t over,” Adam swore. He threw the microphone at Alastor with as much force as he could. Charlie shrieked and shrunk behind Alastor, who stepped in front of her and deflected the microphone with a quick swipe of his arms. The microphone flung towards the audience instead and met with a loud boom!

“MY FLATSCREEN TV!” Vox hollered.

As it happened, the buyer who purchased the television chose to move his newly acquired toy to his car, and as he walked through the crowd, the microphone happened to smash into the TV and shattered the screen upon impact. A million pieces of glass went everywhere.

It didn’t matter how dire or emotional the past few minutes had been on the Radio Demon—Alastor couldn’t help but smirk. “Whoops, my butter fingers,” he said. Vox tried to lunge towards him, but Rosie tackled him and held him down. In ten seconds flat, Vox was forgotten.

The security team grabbed Adam by the arms and proceeded to escort him. “This isn’t over, girly,” Adam swore. “Hell is forever.”

Charlie met his eyes and waved him away. “Goodbye, Evans.”

~*~*~*~

There was no guideline on how to gracefully resume the evening after the show that was put on, to put lightly. Charlie didn’t want to think of how to do it, her brain was as good as instant mashed potatoes. She didn’t want to be at the party any longer. It didn’t matter if she got any financial backing from the board; all that mattered was that she went back home with Alastor.

Rosie, who was an angel in disguise, picked up the slack and carried the evening. She wasted no time to get on the microphone and announce that the latter portion of the auction evening needed to resume. Vox mourned the death of his flatscreen and held in his tears when he watched one of the waiters sweep up the broken pieces of glass. “You were a superstar, baby,” he said through his tears.

“He’s a bit weird,” Emily mused, who was standing close enough to watch the events unfold.

“That’s an understatement,” Vaggie replied dryly. She told Emily to stay put and made her way over to Charlie and Alastor, who were out of the main ballroom and took solace in one of the long hallways of the Carmine mansion. It seemed that Angel and Husk had the same idea because they walked towards the two from the opposite direction. The five of them stood together, no one sure what to say first. Vaggie exhaled and reached out to hug Charlie. “You did great out there.”

Her dearest friend smiled weakly. Her cheeks were stained with tears and there was no doubt that she’d cry more. She accepted Vaggie’s embrace and hugged her back. Angel couldn’t stand it, he had to hug her as well. After a beat, Husk decided why the hell not and hugged them as well. Alastor watched from a good foot away.

“Come on Radio Demon, come get some sugar,” Angel goaded.

“Don’t encourage him,” Husk said.

Alastor gave the group a tight smile. “Enjoy Charlie’s hugs, they are certainly sweeter than any candy,” he said. “I’ll have her to myself soon enough.”

Vaggie leaned back and eyed Alastor. “I know we don’t have the best track record,” she said. “But thank you. For treating Charlie so well. And sticking up for not just her, but our rehab center.”

“Hazbin Hotel,” Charlie corrected.

Husk smirked, “Gotta say, boss. You never struck me as the kinda guy who sides with the losers.”

“Who you calling a loser?” Angel asked.

“You, baby.”

Alastor shrugged. He put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Yes, I agree, Husker. I never thought I’d end up in the position I’m in. But I must say, I’m getting quite comfortable in it.” Charlie couldn’t help but widen her smile. Alastor’s shining eyes stared down at hers and he gave her a quick wink.

“Okay, but can we talk about the performance? Let’s face it, my acting saved the evening. I was going for melodrama, I was channeling my inner Kate Winslet from Titanic,” Angel said.

“Yes, I love how in Titanic Kate Winselt’s character moans about her addiction and cocks in her face,” Vaggie remarked sarcastically. “You did fine, Angel. I’ve gotta give it to you, you’ve got quick thinking.”

“Totally!” Charlie agreed. “What about my acting? Was I good?”

Alastor, Angel, Vaggie, and Husk all found a reason to look anywhere but at Charlie. “Oh jeez, I think they’re almost out of fruit tarts. Better get myself one,” Husk said.

“I’ll come with you,” Angel said.

“Me three,” Vaggie agreed.

“Well good,” a new voice said. “I was hoping to have a word alone with Miss Morningstar.” The group looked up to see that Carmilla Carmine herself went out of her way to find them. She had her hands on her hips and an unreadable expression on her face. “I certainly got more than I bargained for when I invited you, Charlie.”

She smiled nervously. “Uh, um, heh. Surprise?”

Vaggie gave Charlie one last squeeze and walked off with Angel and Husk. Alastor was cemented in his spot next to Charlie. He wasn’t about to leave her. Carmine knew better than to ask him to give them a moment, she knew that whatever she told Charlie, she’d tell the Radio Demon. “As far as entertainment for tonight, it seems we’ve surpassed all the years before,” Carmilla began. Her voice was hard but her face softened into a ghost of a smirk. “For most people, they ask for money and they’re either told yes or no. If enough people tell them no, they quit. I can see now that you’re not that kinda gal, Miss Morningstar. Because of that, I’m keeping my donation to you. I like your grit. I especially like that when that cocksucker Adam Evans got in your face you didn’t back down. He must have smelled awful, I could get a whiff of the vodka from my seat, I’m surprised he didn’t make you faint.”

It took Charlie a long moment to process what Carmilla told her. When she understood that she was actually complimented, she nearly fainted. “Th-thank you,” Charlie squeaked. She didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t sure she had the mental bandwidth left to formulate anything smart to say.

“And as for you,” Carmine said, her eyes flashing to Alastor. The two were eye level with each other given their height.

“Yes?” Alastor asked, unbothered by Carmilla’s squinted eyes. As if a Carmine could ever make him feel uncomfortable.

“It doesn’t matter how much I care or don’t care for someone… no one should have the skeletons in their closet put on display in front of a crowd of people. What Adam did was wrong and I don’t condone it in the slightest. For whatever it’s worth… you kept your composure better than I would have. I would have punched him.”

Alastor chuckled. He pulled Charlie into his side and hugged her tightly to him. “If you recall, Carmilla, I did punch Adam on Vox News.”

Carmilla fully smirked in amusement. “Ah yes, best entertainment I’ve seen in quite some time. Speaking of Vox, I have to handle the flatscreen fiasco. I’ll see you two around, I’m sure.”

“Bye,” Charlie said. She immediately felt silly for saying it. Carmilla walked off, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor eventually fading. “It was rotten luck that you happened to deflect the microphone into the TV, poor Vox,” Charlie mused. “Maybe you should tell him it was an accident?”

Alastor grinned. “I would certainly do so, darling… if I had done it on accident. As it happens, I’d be nothing but a liar if I told him that, and we don’t want to make a liar out of me, do we?”

Charlie stared at him with what he thought to be adorable horrified amusement. “Al!” she chided.

He laughed. It was a good, hearty laugh, one that moved his shoulders up and down. He couldn’t take it any longer—he muffled his own laughter and kissed Charlie.

~*~*~*~

Lucifer knew that they were anxious to get out of there and he couldn’t blame them. The kind of heat that both his daughter and the Radio Demon took tonight was much worse than he’s faced in awhile. Lucifer tried to find them in the crowd with the intention of making peace and being on his best behavior. As much as he subtly disliked Alastor, even he had to admit that Alastor did good by Charlie. You never know who someone is until they’re put under pressure, and even under tonight’s scrutiny, Alastor remained loyal to Charlie. Credit was due.

He spotted Alastor waiting by the front entrance with his shoulders back in perfect posture. “Alastor,” Lucifer greeted. “How are you?”

It was a bit silly to ask, given that Lucifer was in the audience when Adam revealed all of Alastor’s dark secrets. Alastor blinked at him. “Fine,” he answered. “I suppose you’re looking for Charlie?”

“Partially,” Lucifer replied. “I was also looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. But yeah, uh, where’s Charlie?”

“The women’s room. We’re leaving when she comes out.”

Lucifer shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Look Al, can I call you Al?”

“No.”

“Fine, Alastor. Look. I consider myself a pretty good actor. Charlie’s performance this evening was because she inherited her talent from me. The truth is, I haven’t liked you that much. To put it lightly. I know this must come as a surprise…”

Alastor looked off into a wall, as if this were being filmed and he was staring into a camera with a face of “is he serious right now?” for everyone to see. “Yes, I didn’t expect you to feel this way,” Alastor commented, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m very good at being subtle,” Lucifer agreed. “Look, man to man, I wanted to speak with you. I know that we don’t have the best track record between us and we’ve had our squabbles… but I appreciate that you’ve cooled off on your broadcasts about me. And more importantly, it seems we’ve both got something in common… we both love Charlie. As her father, I’d just like to say thank you for supporting her.”

Perhaps Christmas at the Morningstar household wasn’t such a far-fetched idea after all. “I appreciate you sharing your sentiments,” Alastor replied. “For what it’s worth, I meant every word I said up on that stage. I love your daughter very much.”

Lucifer’s eyes shined with a mixture of warmth and pride. Not pride for Alastor, heavens no, but his daughter. “She really is something,” he said with a smile. “She did everything I set out to do and did it better. When I gave up, she kept on going. I think she kept going partly because of you, it’s always nice to have a cheerleader. But also because Charlie is quite fierce with her ambitions.”

Alastor nodded. “I’ve noticed.”

“Anyhoo! Where the heck is she, anyway? Haha how long does it take to pee, you know what I mean?”

Alastor averted his eyes. “There’s no telling.” Although, he had to admit that she’d been in there awhile, almost ten minutes. Maybe she was crying because she felt overwhelmed. It was unfortunate that Vaggie wasn’t anywhere nearby to go in after her.

Lucifer seemed to have the same thought as him. He put his hands on his hips and looked left and right. “Alright, I’ll make this quick. Cover me!”

“Cover you how?”

No explanation came from the Short King. Lucifer slipped inside the ladies room, seemingly unnoticed. Alastor checked his wristwatch; he’d give it thirty seconds before a woman saw Lucifer and lost her marbles over it.

There was a scream, but it wasn’t from a surprised lady who saw the future mayor. The scream came from Lucifer himself. “Alastor! Get in here!”

If it weren’t for the fact that Charlie should have been in there, Alastor certainly would have pretended he didn’t hear Lucifer. But Charlie was in there, he saw her walk in the bathroom himself. He kicked open the door and barreled into the women’s restroom. It was a several stall bathroom; there was blood on the tiles, a single bloody footprint, and the door to one of the stalls was off its top hinge. Alastor’s eyes followed the trail of blood up the wall and to the window, which was left open and where the cold air rushed in.

Lucifer stood in the middle of the bathroom, his face white as a ghost. On the floor was Charlie’s ponytail that she used this evening. If it wasn’t proof enough that it was hers, the long golden strand tangled up in it was.

“No one is in here, I checked,” Lucifer said, his voice hollow. “She’s gone. She’s gone, Alastor.”

Alastor didn’t hear a word that Lucifer said to him. The pounding in his ears was too loud. His entire body broke out into chills and a cold sweat formed at his forehead. This wasn’t possible… Charlie… his Charlie… she was gone?

No, not gone.

“Taken,” Alastor growled.

“What?” Lucifer asked.

“She’s not gone. She’s been taken.”

He’d go to hell to find her if that’s what it took. He would get Charlie back.

Notes:

I KNOW I'M EVIL FOR THIS CLIFFHANGER I'M SO SORRY *hides behind couch*

Finally, the complete backstory of Alastor's father is revealed. I wish I had done some more foreshadowing earlier in the work, but then I thought that if I was too obvious about it that it would take away from the surprise reveal. I really liked the name Wendigo the Bayou Killer and there was no way I'd write that and the readers wouldn't connect the name to Alastor LOL

So we got a public confession that Alastor loves Charlie. Angel's acting without the porn is pretty good. Vox's flatscreen TV is destroyed. Adam was taken away by security, could he have anything to do with her kidnapping? How ballistic is Alastor going to go in order to get her back?

This story will either have one very long chapter or two decent chapters left before it is finished. Thanks so much for reading and commenting and letting me know your thoughts! I'll have more next week! <3

Chapter 24

Summary:

Charlie was taken at the Carmine Ball. The fall out ensues.

He can’t see his father’s face because his back is to him, but he remembers the way his father knelt down on the ground with perfect clarity. Claude Breaux grunted as he dug the toes of his boots into the mud and further leaned in towards his prey. “C’mere son. I want you to learn something.”

Alastor didn’t want to go, but he knew that the consequences of not going outweighed his reluctance. He stepped carefully and lingered close to his father’s side but stayed behind him. From this proximity, he smelled the mixture of his father’s aftershave and sweat. It was a hot day in the bayou, just like most days. Alastor could see the hooves of the prey sticking out from his father’s figure. It was a wild hog, which were considered nuisances and could be killed year round without seasons.

“Don’t be scared, come stand next to me,” his father ordered.

Alastor was scared. He knew that he couldn’t grab his father’s hand for reassurance and instead he gripped his right wrist with his left hand. He just hoped that the wild hog was already dead and not still dying; he hated watching them die. It made him uncomfortable.

To his fortune, the hog wasn’t breathing. Claude Breaux’s gunshots were fatal and it seemed that the hog passed away quickly. Claude had his hands on the beast, and still wouldn’t turn to look at his son. He kept his head forward on the prey. “You shot it,” Alastor said.

“I did,” his father agreed. “Guns are barbaric. They’re a quick fix, too quick if you ask me. Let this be a lesson to you, son. There are people in this world who want fast results, who don’t care about integrity. They’re not like the people who want to do the job right, who want to take their time.” Claude produced his hunter’s knife. It was a large instrument, the blade itself was as long as Alastor’s forearm. He looked at it in horrified fascination. Claude chuckled; he still didn’t look at his son, but he knew that he was looking at the knife all the same. “It’s much better to take your time. To make sure the job is done right. Watch me skin this hog, Alastor. Don’t let me catch you looking away.”

“I don’t want to look, daddy.”

“Well that’s too bad, son. How else are you going to learn? Don’t you want to save Charlie?”

The knife went up in the air and plunged down.

Alastor woke up with a start. All at once, he realized that he had another one of his dreams again. The one where only his father’s figure could be seen, voice could be heard, but his face was hidden. This wasn’t the first time Alastor had this peculiar dream. He didn’t know if it was a memory or not, it had to have happened when he was five, because by the time he turned six, Claude Breaux was already in prison.

Alastor’s hands shook as he grounded himself back into reality. His father said Charlie’s name. It was a dream.

No, it was a nightmare. And even though you’re awake, it’s still a nightmare.

“Al?” a voice asked. He recognized it immediately; Rosie. She was by his side in a moment and had a cup of coffee with her. “I think you dozed off there, boss,” she said. She was still in her black dress from the charity ball. She looked rough with her makeup all messy and her eyes red and puffy. Alastor remembered that she cried when she found out what happened to Charlie. Last night started to come back to him the more he distanced himself from the dream and focused on the coffee to bring him back to reality.

“Thank you,” Alastor croaked before taking a sip. He remembered where they were; the police station. He looked at his wristwatch and saw it was 6:05 in the morning. He went here to make statements. But that wasn’t where he’d been all night, oh no.

Flashbacks of him driving his car at ungodly speeds down the highways without a care. Husk in the passenger’s seat telling him where to go and that they’re getting closer. Following Charlie’s phone with his tracker.

Alastor remembered telling Husk to get in the car and going as fast as he could. The memory was broken with bits and pieces, clouded by the rage he flew into the moment he realized that Charlie was taken. Even now, he couldn’t calm himself down. He was still in panic mode, although the initial bout of rage subsided just a tad. Alastor knew he had to keep his wits about him if he was going to find her.

The phone was found on the side of the road twenty miles outside of the city. The kidnapper must have realized that Charlie could be tracked and thrown it out the car window. It was a dead end.

Alastor slumped forward in his seat. He remembered getting to the police station around 3:30 and giving statements, over and over again to different policemen. He was the last one who saw Charlie before she was taken.

“Adam Evans did this!” Alastor screamed at them more than once. His composure was long gone, replaced with burning hot rage. “It’s fucking obvious who’s behind this!”

“Adam Evans was with our security team when Carmine had him escorted off the property. We have multiple eye witnesses and accounts of people who were with him during the time she went missing. The last one who was with Charlie and saw Charlie was you.”

Alastor only got angrier. He wanted to strangle these men for not listening to him. At one point the officers held him in a jail cell until he was able to calm himself. He must have exhausted himself to the point of passing out. He wasn’t sure when he was brought out of the cell and let sit at one of the desks, but now it was early morning and Rosie was with him.

“You’ve had a rough time,” Rosie said. “I think you need to go home, Al. I’ll go with you.”

“I can’t go home until Charlie is home with me,” he argued. “It’s been almost twelve hours. She could be dead.”

“Don’t say that. We don’t know where she is. But we’ll find her.” Rosie knew that she had to be the one who kept it together because she couldn’t fall apart on him now. He needed her to be the composed one. She sighed and put a hand on Alastor’s shoulder. “We need to talk to Lucifer. He texted me. He said to come over whenever we’re done over here.”

Alastor shook his head. “What could he possibly want?”

“He wants the same thing you want, Al. And he’s got the resources that you don’t have. Take your coffee with you, it’s time.”

~*~*~*~

The last time that Alastor had been to the Morningstar house was when he climbed up the wall to Charlie’s outside window and waited for her to let him in. It felt much worse to be coming to this house once more knowing that she wasn’t there. Plenty of security cars were outside the house but none of the men stopped Alastor or Rosie from walking right in like they lived there. As soon as one guard saw them, he promptly informed them, “He’s waiting for you in the basement.”

“The basement,” Rosie repeated under her breath. “God. C’mon, Al.” It was good that Rosie was with him because she tamed the beast inside of him, at least for now. He was like a boiling pot of water and she was the lid that kept him from completely spilling over. Once the lid was taken off, it would be a disaster.

Rosie sensed this about her boss—he wasn’t keeping it together. She always knew that this, this, this monster was inside of him, she picked up the hints from the many years they worked together. Alastor was always the composed one, always the one with the grin. But people like Alastor who build up walls so tall around themselves usually have a reason to do so, because they’re trying to keep something in.

Truthfully, Rosie didn’t know how this was going to end. Will Alastor get himself killed to try and get Charlie back? Will he kill to get her back? What if she’s already dead? Rosie hoped not, just the thought of any of those scenarios made her stomach turn. Worst of all would be the last what-if, if Charlie was already dead. Not only would that be the loss of the sweetest young woman Rosie knew, but that would also be the death of the Alastor she knew and loved. He’d never be the same again without her.

They reached the basement. Rosie’s mind wandered the entire walk down the steps and she didn’t realize that they had done so. The first thing she noticed was that there were no guards down in the basement—it was just Lucifer, who sat in a folding chair, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and staring at them blankly. It was obvious that he hadn’t slept either, him and Alastor had matching bags under their eyes. Lucifer wore his same clothes from the ball with the jacket taken off and his dress shirt sleeves rolled all the way up.

“Everyone is here now,” Lucifer said.

Rosie and Alastor saw that they were not alone with the future mayor. Angel, Vaggie, and Husk were also present, each of them looking ragged but not nearly as badly. This was their team without Charlie. A sky without a sun, a night without a moon. Their heart was missing and they knew it.

“No one else will know what is being said in this room, you have my word on that,” Lucifer began. He groaned as he stood up to his feet. “Everything that’s said will be confidential. I can’t force you to keep it confidential, but I ask each and every one of you to please do so anyway. I asked you here because it’s obvious we all love Charlie. I’ll be blunt about the situation—the police think Alastor is a suspect. He’s the only one who saw Charlie before she was taken and the only one who was by her side the entire evening. I do not agree with the police, of course. And time is essential because the longer she’s missing the more danger she’s in. I’m willing to get Charlie back by any means necessary—and that means that whatever you have to do, Alastor, I’ll do my best to pull strings and cover up your tracks.”

Lucifer stared straight into Alastor’s eyes as he said these things. It became apparent what the Morningstar man was saying. Any means to get Charlie back. Alastor had to be the one to get his hands dirty, and if certain methods were used, Lucifer would use his position of power to hide it. This was not a trap or a lie. The fierce gleam in Lucifer’s eyes was proof enough—Alastor had his word.

“I understand,” Alastor replied. “We need to move immediately. We’ll use my car. Husk, you’ll come with me. Angel, stay here with Lucifer. If we need to call you for any information, have your laptop ready.”

Husk was by Alastor’s side without hesitation. Anything to save Charlie.

“I’m coming too,” Vaggie said.

“Husk is ex-military and we’ve both had special training,” Alastor argued. “You cannot say the same. If we get into a dangerous situation, you may lose your life.”

Vaggie was undeterred. “Who are you speaking to, Alastor? What’s your first course of action?”

“Adam’s puppet. Lute.”

“Let me go with you. Please. I knew Lute in college. I know exactly how to get that bitch to talk.”

“And if things go south?”

“They go south. You warned me, it’s on me. Please, let me come.”

Alastor knew that he had to put his energy into things that mattered. The odds of Lute’s confrontation ending in a shootout was very low. “Fine. Follow us.”

“Hold on,” Lucifer said. “A word, Alastor. In private.” He made a gesture to the rest of them too shoo them away. “This won’t be long, don’t you worry.”

Alastor resisted making any comment on the matter, this was business and he and Lucifer had a mutual goal. He stepped closer to the father of the woman he loved very much and it occurred to him, as he leaned down slightly to accommodate for Lucifer’s height, that if things went the way he wanted them to go that Lucifer would always be in his life. The realization couldn’t have come at a worse moment, but it came to him all the same. Lucifer wasn’t going anywhere as long as Alastor had Charlie. “Yes,” Alastor said as neutrally as he could manage.

There was no mistaking the grave expression on Lucifer’s face. He wasn’t playing any games. “There’s no telling how dangerous it’ll be for you, Alastor. If whoever did this was willing to kidnap Charlie, I’m sure they’re willing to kill whoever gets in their way. I meant what I said, I will protect you the best I can, but I’m relying on you to do this as cleanly as possible. There are some things you can’t get away with and I can’t protect you from… like going on a rampage in broad daylight with witnesses…”

Alastor understood what Lucifer alluded to. He had to be discreet if he intended to play dirty. “You have my word,” Alastor swore.

Lucifer nodded. “One more thing… do you need protection? Do you… you know… need a gun?”

It took Alastor a full five seconds, which felt like thirty seconds, to comprehend that Lucifer just offered him a gun. He didn’t want to laugh mockingly at him and ruin whatever good faith that was put into him. Instead, Alastor grinned. By now, Lucifer knew very good and well that it wasn’t a kind one. “Guns are barbaric. A quick fix. Not my instrument of choice, but thank you.”

Before Lucifer could argue, let alone ask Alastor what the hell he meant by that, Alastor was already turned on his heels and ready to leave. “Husk. Vaggie. My car, let’s go.” Wordlessly, the two got up and followed him.

“W-wait!” Rosie cried. She jumped in front of Alastor and blocked him from the basement steps. Fresh tears ran down her cheeks and her eyes were already puffy from more crying. “Y-you have to promise me that you’ll come back, Al. You have to—I can’t—I… I need you to come back. Do you hear me? I need you to be smart and make smart decisions and not be so reckless and blind with your rage that you make sloppy mistakes, okay?!”

Oh Rosie, you’ve never been afraid to raise your voice at me, Alastor thought to himself. He wordlessly pulled Rosie into a hug and held his producer tightly. Years and years of spending Monday through Friday afternoons together before his broadcast, sharing ideas, ordering lunch and dinner, her telling him he shouldn’t smoke so much and him telling her to turn her soap operas down because he can’t concentrate. It was Rosie who told him one fateful afternoon that she was going to meet Miss Charlie Morningstar, that she thought that she would be a good guest for his show. If memory served correctly, Alastor merely rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of, “Whatever you think, Rosie. Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work out.”

As always, Alastor should have known that Rosie was right.

Rosie trembled in his embrace but wrapped her arms around him regardless. “I promise I’ll come back,” Alastor said. He leaned back and wiped Rosie’s tears with the handkerchief he had in his back pocket. “Even better, I promise I’ll come back with Charlie. Okay?”

Rosie took the handkerchief and wiped her snotty nose. “Okay,” she said, her voice deflated. “Here, thanks.”

Alastor looked at the used handkerchief in disdain. “No thanks, you keep it. Better yet, wash it and then give it to me later, hmm?”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. Get outta here. I’ll stay behind with Angel and Lucifer.”

“Good.” Alastor leaned down and placed a kiss on Rosie’s forehead. He imagined that if he ever grew up with a sister, she would be a lot like Rosie. She was his family. Alastor walked past Rosie and made his way up the steps with Husk and Vaggie trailing close behind.

“BE SURE TO ANSWER YOUR FUCKING DINOSAUR PHONE!” Rosie hollered.

The basement door closed. They were gone.

~*~*~*~

The weather in New Orleans was overcast and rainy, not a ray of sunshine in sight. It was missing its brightness, its sunshine was taken with no Charlie. Even the city knew that it would be a gloomy, downcast day without her. A fog settled into the city and made driving fast dangerous, but Alastor pushed his luck and went as fast as nature would allow.

Vaggie never thought a day would come where she was in the backseat of Alastor’s car, yet here she was. Husk took the passenger’s seat. They drove in silence. “How do we know the cops haven’t questioned Lute already?” Husk asked.

“It doesn’t matter if they have. We won’t be asking the same questions,” Alastor answered.

“What do you plan on asking?” Vaggie asked.

Alastor gripped the steering wheel. “Lute spent every minute of her free time with Adam as his campaign manager. She knows who his contact was in Bay St Louis was. We’re going to make her tell us.”

Husk looked at Alastor. “You think the guy he met at the club had something to do with Charlie?”

“Absolutely, Husker. You see, Adam couldn’t personally kidnap Charlie or take matters into his own hands. He had to hire a third party. We find out who that contact is from Lute, then we find that contact.”

“What if Lute doesn’t know?”

“She knows.”

“What if we have to put the pressure on Adam himself? He’ll never talk to us, that’s for damn sure,” Husk huffed.

“What if Adam wasn’t involved to begin with?” Vaggie asked. “What if we’re barking up the wrong tree and Charlie was taken by someone else entirely?”

Alastor spoke with a cold, hardened voice. “Then leave. I’ll pull this car over and you can get out.” He looked into the rear view mirror and met Vaggie’s eyes, undeterred by her expression. “Adam did this. I know he did. I won’t waste my time to convince you otherwise.”

Vaggie curled her lip up but resisted to say anything. Deep down, she knew that Alastor knew better than she did. She hated to admit it, but this wasn’t about pride anymore. This was about Charlie. “Okay, you win,” Vaggie muttered. “By the way, Lute is probably on Government Street, it’s almost eight. She goes to morning yoga.”

Husk lifted an eyebrow. “And why would you know that?”

Vaggie shrugged. “It’s her ‘me time’ that she gets every day before she has to go follow Adam around and wipe his ass. Chances are that she still maintains her routine, she’s good about that.”

That answer was as good as any for Husk. He looked at Alastor. “A yoga class filled with people, boss,” he warned.

Alastor smirked. “Looks like you’ll have to distract them with your incredible stretching, Husker.”

~*~*~*~

She hadn’t lived with Alastor for very long, but she did catch him up one night when he thought she was asleep. It was their first night together after she lost her apartment with Angel. She woke up and immediately knew that it was an empty bed, that her lover was gone and abandoned her to the soft sheets. Charlie knew that space was important in a relationship, which was why it was healthy that they went to work at their separate jobs and came together in the evening. By all means, this was Alastor’s home—he deserved a moment to himself.

Didn’t he?

Well, of course, but she knew something was wrong. She made quick work of getting up and quietly padding across the bedroom floor until she was at the end of the hallway. Her pajamas was just an oversized t-shirt, the very same one he gave her the first night she ever slept at his place. Back when they had no idea what they would turn into, that her one night over would turn into one of many. She wondered (and not for the first time) what would have happened if Alastor had pursued her that evening. It was after Valentino punched her, she had to be on his radio show the next day, she was worried sick about Angel… in hindsight, of course, it would have been in poor taste. But would she really have resisted Alastor’s intoxicating lips against hers? After all the time she spent alone before him, no, she wouldn’t have resisted. She would have melted into him. She would have done whatever he told her to do.

Charlie found him in the guest bedroom, the very room she slept in when she stayed that first night. He was sat at the edge of the bed and staring off into space. Only the desk lamp was on for light behind him and the shadow that cast over his face made him look even more sullen. This was the first time Charlie caught Alastor without his grin. Even with a deep set frown, he was unbearably handsome. He looked miserable and lost in the closet with all his skeletons. What was it like in his mind? What hell swirled in his thoughts? How much worse was it when he hid behind a grin and had to keep up the mask?

He noticed her almost instantly. Of course he did. He was Alastor.

His face snapped in her direction and he opened his mouth to say something. As soon as his lips turned up, Charlie exclaimed, “Don’t!”

Alastor looked at her in concern. “What is it, dear?”

She entered the room and stood in front of him. There was a cautious arms length between them because Charlie didn’t know how much she was intruding, but she didn’t want to just stay at the door threshold, either.

“Don’t smile,” she commanded.

His eyebrows quirked in confusion. He didn’t expect her to say that. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You don’t have to smile, Al. Not if you don’t want to. If you don’t feel like smiling, please, don’t do it. It’s okay. I-I can leave you alone, I’m sorry for intruding. I get it, you want alone time and you want to think. It’s okay.” Charlie felt like she was blabbering. How was it that she could still get flustered around this man? When would the choke hold he had on her loosen?

“I’m not smiling because I have to,” Alastor protested, his voice gentle.

“Yes, you are,” Charlie argued. “I saw you, Al. Before you noticed me. You weren’t happy. And it breaks my heart to know you’re not happy and I wish I could make you happy, but I have to accept that sometimes peo—”

He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her body into his. The next thing Charlie knew, she was pressed against his torso, their chests touching, Alastor still sat at the edge of the bed and him pulling her to stand between his legs. He encircled his arms around her and trapped her. Firmly. Charlie’s thoughts died on her lips when Alastor put his face in her cleavage and hugged her tightly to him.

Oh.

She could melt like ice cream.

“Don’t you dare say that you don’t make me happy,” Alastor growled. She heard him loud and clear even with his face in her chest.

“But you’re not happy?” Charlie asked, her voice nothing more than a breath.

“It’s not that simple.”

“You don’t have to tell me… I would just like to understand, is all.”

He raked his hands down her back and dipped his hands under her shirt, only to find that she had no panties on. “Oh, you naughty thing,” he chided. Alastor was pleased to grab the globes of her ass and hold them tight in his palms. He was already hard. The things she did to him, unthinkable. “I was unhappy before we came into each others lives, Charlotte. I suppose you could say that I’m having an adjustment period. Sometimes I don’t think that I deserve… well, anyway, I’m wrapping my head around it. But of course you make me happy. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“But what if I’m ever not with you? Will you be happy on your own?” If only she had figured out sooner that he used sex as a distraction, as control. Alastor knew exactly how to redirect her thoughts when his fingers began to roam over her heat. “Al…” Charlie hissed.

“It makes me happy that you’re so wet for me every time,” he said with a devious grin.

“You’re bad!”

“Yes, darling, I am.”

Alastor lifted her shirt up high enough to expose her breasts and latched onto one of her boobs with his mouth. He licked, sucked, and pumped his fingers into her heat. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of running his tongue around her nipple and feeling it harden deliciously in his mouth. It didn’t take her long to throw her head back in a moan and for him to intensify his ministrations. She asked too many questions, asked about things that she didn’t need to worry about. There was a thrill that came with the territory of seducing her, one that Alastor would always chase to feel. Charlie didn’t need to know about the thoughts that kept him up at night—all she needed to know was that he could keep her up at night with his fingers, tongue, and cock.

As it happened, he hadn’t fucked her in the guest bedroom yet. He intended to rectify that. She was putty in his hands and such a good girl for him, and she was rewarded again and again with pleasure. Alastor made her forget about everything, which was exactly his intention. Charlie succumbed to him, just like they both knew she would. Just like she would have if he had done this on the first night she spent with him.

~*~*~*~

She was aware of how much her head throbbed when she opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and she knew that she wasn’t fully awake, just conscious enough to know that something wasn’t right. “Al…” Charlie groaned. She winced when she tried to open her eyes fully; it was like a needle pierced through her temples.

It was a dream. A memory and a dream. It really happened between them and it was a night that she kept tucked in the back of her mind. Maybe that explained why her mind conjured it up to give her some comfort, but all it did was make her yearn for him even more.

Alastor.

Charlie stayed still with her head in her hands. She was aware of the ropes around her wrists and that she was tied up, but she was able to lift her hands to support her head and she was grateful. The panic bubbled up inside of her but she did her best to keep it from spilling over. Charlie wasn’t an expert on how these things went, and she watched fewer episodes of crime shows than she wanted to admit because she preferred the baking shows (too bad her knowledge of how to make a custard wouldn’t save her life). She knew enough to know that staying calm and not letting her captor know that she was awake was an upper hand that she needed to maintain.

Her mind swam through muddy waters as she tried to recollect everything from last night. She was in the bathroom at the Carmine ball. Her and Alastor were getting ready to leave and he waited outside the door. She was washing her hands and she saw a figure in the mirror behind her—dressed all in black and wearing a black mask. He came up behind her and immediately put a chloroform cloth in her face to keep her from screaming.

Think Charlie, what else about this man stood out to you?

She had to keep herself from wincing from the throbbing in her head. Didn’t she hit her head?

Yes, she did. The man was tall and slim. That’s all she could remember. He put the chloroform in her face but she held her breath and the fumes didn’t kick in effectively. She remembered elbowing him and hearing him grunt—his face so close to her ear—and she tried to get away but he grabbed her by her ponytail and…

Oh, yes. That’s why her head hurt. Because the bastard slammed her face into the bathroom sink.

Was there blood? Charlie could have sworn she saw blood. She remembered falling to the floor and being dragged on the cold tile. The man had no trouble heaving her up and out of the open window. She was put in a car and tied up and he reapplied the chloroform.

She began to cry. She didn’t feel bad about it, she had every right to cry. Charlie silently wept in her hands. It wasn’t just her head that throbbed, it was her entire being. She so badly wanted to be free. She wanted to be with Alastor.

Oh, Al.

Charlie was scared. She wasn’t too proud to admit it, she was very honest with herself. She was scared, the end. But it wasn’t just fear for herself, oh no. Fear for her friends and how worried sick they are for her. Fear for her father, who might end up abusing his depression medication and spiraling. And finally, fear for Alastor… and the monster who lived dormant inside of him that he might unleash in her absence.

Just as Charlie was about to lose herself in her wallowing, the door to the van opened. The masked figure stood there in the same clothes he wore last night. “Morning, girly,” he grunted. Charlie noted that his voice was gruff, deep. He handed her a water bottle that was open and two pain pills in the bottle cap. “Normally I don’t beat up my product, but you were quite squirmy last night,” he said. “Drink that, take that. And before you ask, it’s tylenol. Says so on the pill if you don’t believe me.”

Charlie’s head screamed so loudly that she didn’t really care either way. She struggled to to take the pills and drink the water with tied hands but she managed. She didn’t know what to say to this man who just referred to her as product. He watched her intently. The entire time she was asleep in the back of a van. The scenery behind him was woods and swamp. Not very helpful in a place like Louisiana.

“Usually they ask ‘why’ or ‘where am I’ or ‘what do you want’ by now,” the stranger commented. He seemed amused. “I didn’t take you for the silent type, Morningstar. I thought for sure you’d try to convince me that you can save me. Isn’t that what you do? Save people?”

Charlie made a face at him. “People save themselves, I just help them along the way,” she said. “You don’t seem interested in saving yourself.”

The stranger laughed. “You’re right about that, girly. Here.”

He tossed her a breakfast bar. Charlie wondered if he would have given it to her if she had argued with him or plead him to let her go. She took the breakfast bar. “It expired last year.”

He chuckled some more. “That it did, princess. That it did.”

~*~*~*~

The yoga studio on Government Street was in the middle of the city and definitely not a place to cause a scene. Time was of the essence and it didn’t matter if class was in session or not, the three walked right in. The smell of sage and other herbal candles hit their noses and the lights were dimmed down to build the ambiance. A group of thirty or so people were stretched out on their mats in the middle of the room, each of them with their butts in the air and their heads down. Because of this, Lute didn’t notice the intruders.

“Breathe deeply,” the instructor said to his class. He noticed the three newcomers. “Ah, welcome. Are you here to free your mind and soul?”

“He is,” Alastor said, pointing to Husk. He dropped his voice, “Find her, Vaggie.”

Vaggie looked intently at the crowd. A few times while in college she went with Lute to the yoga sessions, back when they were frenemies at best. She recognized Lute’s blue camo mat. “There,” she said. Alastor nodded. While Husk talked to the instructor and explained his bad knees and how yoga could help him, Alastor and Vaggie slipped away and approached Lute. As it happened, she was towards the end of the group and there would be less people involved. “We need to talk,” Vaggie said as soon as they were next to Lute.

Lute looked up and immediately regarded them with a look of disgust. “Are you fucking serious? At my yoga session?” she spat. “You can bother me later.”

“We don’t have later,” Alastor growled. “Right now.”

Maybe it was because Lute was aware of Charlie’s disappearance that she agreed to it, or maybe she figured that if she agreed now that they wouldn’t cause a scene. She got back up to her feet and glared at them. “Follow me,” she hissed. Lute lead them behind a curtain into the other half of the building, which had tables, chairs, and snack tables. “Get the fuck on with it. I had nothing to do with whatever shit Adam did last night,” Lute ordered. She leaned against a table and crossed her arms.

“So you do know about it,” Vaggie said.

“I know that whatever happened to Charlie was unfortunate and that Adam was already taken away by Carmine security. There are over ten eye witnesses who can confirm that,” Lute retorted.

As fate had it, Alastor and Vaggie happened to be standing closer to each other than they normally would have. Because of that, Vaggie saw Alastor’s micro-movement to lunge forward and she stopped him before he could commit to it. “We just want information, we’re not here to interrogate you about last night,” Vaggie said. She hated how raw her voice sounded. She knew she was desperate.

Lute knew it, too. It was obvious in the haughty expression on her face. She didn’t give a fuck about Charlie. “The Evans Campaign was ruined on Katie Killjoy over a week ago, because of you two and Charlie. So fuck off. I don’t owe you shit. Sorry about your little blonde bimbo, hopefully she’s smart enough to keep herself alive.”

Alastor never had the chance to lunge out at Lute—Vaggie beat him to it. She slammed Lute onto the table top behind her and grabbed her by the throat. “You bitch!”

The Radio Demon knew that this was his fight, but this wasn’t his fight. It seemed to him that Lute to Vaggie was Vox to him. A personal vendetta. He watched as the two women scrapped and fought, both of them rolling off the table top and falling onto the floor. Perhaps he should break them up, if Husk were with them surely he’d suggest that. Alastor was not the type to break up fights. He liked to see where things went.

“Who did Adam meet in Bay St Louis?!” Vaggie demanded. She was on top of Lute and punched her in the face. “He met someone two nights before the Carmine ball, who the fuck did he meet?!”

“Fuck you!” Lute screamed. She palm-striked up and hit Vaggie’s nose. Vaggie was sent backwards, blood spilling, and Lute mounted her instead. “You think you can come in here and demand information out of me? Huh? You fucking bitch! You’re not coming into my house and getting the upper hand on me!”

Alastor almost intervened when Lute continuously hit Vaggie, who was pinned to the floor, but Vaggie managed to buck Lute off of her and push through the pain. Both women had puffy faces, blood on both their tops and scattered across their bodies, but Vaggie ended up pinning Lute down. Lute was face down and Vaggie pushed her knee into her back to keep her down. Vaggie put Lute’s arm in a lock—one wrong move, and Vaggie could snap it like a twig. To test her newfound position, Vaggie pulled Lute’s arm back, which made Lute holler in pain.

“I’ll fucking break it,” Vaggie hissed.

“Do it,” Lute spat.

“Who the fuck did Adam meet with? Who took Charlie? This won’t come back on you, Lute.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of being Adam’s little bitch?”

“I could ask you the same thing about Charlie!”

“At least Charlie actually cares about me! Adam doesn’t give a shit about you, Lute! He’ll find another young college graduate and leave you in the dust, don’t you get it? So why the fuck would you stay loyal to him? Just tell us what you know!”

Lute snarled and persisted on struggling. Her arm began to bend at an unflattering angle. Alastor was about to step in with his own method, but suddenly, Lute went limp into the floor. “His name is Striker. They meet in Bay St Louis because that’s where they set up their rendezvous point, the strip club. Plus, it gives Adam an opportunity to look at boobs.”

“Do you only know his name?” Alastor asked. He shared a brief look with Vaggie—they both couldn’t believe that Lute actually spilled.

“He’s a hit man,” Lute answered. “But he does a lot of different jobs for the right price and the right people. Remember those paparazzi pictures? Striker was the one who followed y’all on your little date at the jazz club. Adam didn’t hire him, but Adam gave the client Striker’s name.”

“Who ordered for those photos?” Vaggie asked.

“It doesn’t matter who anymore,” Alastor said. “Is Bay St Louis where Striker took Charlie? He took her to the strip club?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of him doing a kidnapping job. And I don’t know that Adam hired him, I haven’t spoken to him since Killjoy. Adam snapped after Killjoy. He can’t take that he lost the mayoral election and he wants revenge. Would you let me go now, fucking hell.”

Vaggie loosened her grip on Lute. The moment she eased up, Lute tried to turn them around and get a strike in on Vaggie. As soon as she jolted, Vaggie retaliated in self-defense.

Snap!

“My fucking arm!” Lute screamed. “Oh, you fucking bitch!”

In the quick haze of movements, Vaggie broke Lute’s arm. It snapped backwards cleanly and fell limply in an unnatural way. Lute bit her lip to stop herself from screaming out. “Oh shit, oh fuck,” Vaggie said, her eyes wide with terror. “Lute, I didn’t mean to!”

The curtain pulled back and one of the yoga-goers saw everything unfold. “The police are on their way!” he promptly informed.

“Which means we’re outta here,” Alastor said. He grabbed Vaggie and yanked her to her feet, then ran with her tailing closely behind. They passed Husk, who was still speaking to the yoga instructor about his back problems. “Husker, quickly!” Alastor exclaimed.

“Oh look, I’m cured,” Husk said. He followed the two out the door and they were in Alastor’s car in record time. Alastor put the car in reverse and high-tailed it out of there. They didn’t pass any police cars, thankfully, and after a few blocks, Alastor stopped hunching in the driver’s seat. “Okay, so uh, how did it go?” Husk asked.

“I broke her arm,” Vaggie answered, her voice hollow. “Fuck, I can’t believe I actually broke it, fuck.”

“Someone else will be able to pop it back into place,” Alastor replied icily. “You did excellent work, Vaggie. I don’t think I would have been able to get the information out of Lute without other means.”

Husk didn’t want to know. As long as it wasn’t his arm that was broken that was all that mattered. “So where are we headed to?” he asked.

“Bay St Louis,” Alastor replied. “Turns out that the same man who took our photos at the jazz club was the same guy they used to kidnap Charlie. His name is Striker.”

Husk sat back in the passenger’s seat and thought about what was said. “Hold on a second… we have that number, don’t we? Who was it that texted Lucifer those paparazzi pictures at the Mardi Gras parade? It was an unknown number. Was it Striker?”

Alastor snapped his head towards Husk and off the road. “Husker, you fucking brilliant man. You got the number from Lucifer’s phone at the Italian restaurant, right?”

“Ibrokeherarm,” Vaggie groaned from the back seat.

“Got it,” Husk said. He pulled up the number and punched it into the GPS. “The number is moving, it looks like he’s going to the outer area of Bay St Louis, opposite direction of the strip club. I mean, who goes to the strip club on Sunday morning, yeesh, at least wait until after church is out.”

Alastor put his eyes back on the road and accelerated the gas as he got on the interstate ramp. I’m coming, darling.

~*~*~*~

By the time the car stopped moving, Charlie’s throbbing headache calmed down enough where she could keep her eyes open and move her head. The van the stranger had her in was a moving van and she was loose in the back like she was a piece of furniture. There were a few sharp turns that had Charlie sliding to the opposite side of the van, but she was mostly safe.

There was a small window in the back of the van and Charlie risked crawling over to peak outside. Nothing but the road in view, of course. She hoped that she’d recognize something, some kind of landmark or see a sign. There was no telling where she was. The stranger threw her phone out of the car last night, much to her dismay.

The van rolled to a stop and the stranger answered his phone. “I’m here,” he said. “Yes, perfect.”

Charlie’s heart pounded in her chest. Someone was meeting them. Someone who wanted her? Oh no, what if she was just being passed around? The driver’s door opened and there were footsteps that approached. Charlie held her breath as the van door opened. “Still no questions, huh,” the stranger said when he saw her.

“What do you want me to ask?” Charlie retorted.

The stranger shrugged. “I’m just surprised, is all. I’ve gotta cover your face. If you don’t fight me it’ll be painless. But if we have a repeat of last night… well, I gave you the only two tyelnol I had left.” Her heart pounded so loud it was in her ears. The stranger took out a black sack that had drawstrings to tighten around her neck. He reached for Charlie. She let him put the sack over her head and tighten the strings with no fight. “Good girl,” he praised. “Now, I’ll guide you out of the van.”

“And take me where?” Charlie asked.

“Ah, so that’s your first question. I’m just the delivery boy, I’m taking you to who wants you.”

So someone wants me kidnapped, Charlie thought to herself. Her mind raced as fast as her heart in her chest. There was a good chance that this stranger wouldn’t tell her who his client was. What if she could trick it out of him? But who would want her kidnapped?

“I’ve got another question,” Charlie said as the stranger guided her to her feet and they crunched in the grass.

“Shoot,” he said, sounding amused.

“Did Adam pay you everything upfront or give you half and the other half when the job is done?”

“Three-quarters upfront, the last quarter after the drop off.”

“HA!”

Charlie couldn’t believe it. It actually worked. She tricked him! And now she knew that Adam was behind all of this!

The stranger knew that he fucked up. “You little bitch!” he growled. He tightened his grip around Charlie’s arm and she winced. There wasn’t much she could do with her hands tied and a sack over her head, but her legs were still free. Charlie kneed him in what she thought to be his crotch. He grunted on impact and Charlie used all of her strength to jerk out of his grip.

She was free.

Without wasting a second, Charlie blindly started running. The sack wasn’t completely blinding, she could see shadows, and she tried her best to run towards the light to avoid smacking into something like a tree. For all she knew, she was running down the road and she’d be hit by a car. But she had to get away. The stranger’s footsteps were close behind her and she was desperate to keep running. No matter how off her balance was from the lack of sight, no matter how much her lungs screamed, or how tired her legs were… she had to keep going.

A different shape approached her. The next thing Charlie knew, she was knocked off her feet and her back hit the hard ground. She grunted on impact, her body exploding in pain. “Nice fucking try, bitch!” a new voice said. “Asshole, you said she was incapacitated!”

The stranger caught up to them and he kicked Charlie in the gut. She winced at the pain and coughed. Her equilibrium was off and she had no idea which way was up or down. “She’s a slimy one,” the stranger said.

“Get her in the car. I have your money.”

The stranger did as the new voice ordered and picked Charlie up, slinging her over his shoulders like she was nothing. Charlie found herself thrown into another car, head first, and she toppled into the backseat. She tried to scrambled up before the door shut, but she stood no chance. “Adam,” she grimaced. “It’s fucking Adam!”

The stranger faced his employer. “The rest of the money.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. A speeding car approached them. They were off an old exit that was three miles from the interstate, one surrounded by nothing but woods. It was no accident that someone barreled towards them. “Who did you invite?” Adam asked.

“No one,” the stranger insisted. “The money, Adam. Now!”

Adam reached into his pocket and then spun and kicked the stranger in the face. It was an impressively quick movement on his part, thanks to all his late nights watching kung fu movies thinking he was just as talented. “Fuck you, Striker,” Adam grinned.

Striker staggered backwards and that gave Adam enough time to run to the car with Charlie inside and hop into the driver’s side. “It’s been real, asshole.”

“What’s your end game? She already knows it’s you!” Striker yelled.

“Oh, I’m sure she does.” Adam flipped Striker the finger as he prepared to speed off. He would have left them in the dust, if it hadn’t been for Charlie who attacked him from the backseat. She flailed blindly behind him. “Get off me, bitch!” Adam hissed.

The car reached them, kicking up dust from its breakneck speed. The car swung to the side and from the driver’s seat, the door flew open. A flash of red, and the next thing Striker knew, Alastor already landed a punch to his face. Alastor’s face was unrecognizable, he moved so fast it was a blur of teeth and wide-eyes. Alastor took Striker to the ground, using his momentum to his advantage.

Alastor was alone. Husk and Vaggie were fifteen miles back at the gas station he left them at. They were probably cursing his name but he was confident in his decision to do this alone. If anything happened, Lucifer promised that he could do his best to protect Alastor—but it was much more difficult to pull the strings and protect all three of them. Alastor couldn’t have Husk and Vaggie compromising their lives… not when he was prepared to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

Striker hit Alastor. He wasn’t about to let this son-of-a-bitch get one over on him, not after Adam Evan’s betrayal. He enjoyed rolling around in the dirt with him and landing punches. He wouldn’t be who he was if he didn’t enjoy a good fight. “I have to admit, you two were a cute couple in those pics I took,” Striker taunted. He had Alastor in a choke hold. Like Alastor, he was built tall and thin, and there was no limb length advantage between these men.

Alastor struggled. The air left his lungs and he looked around to try and figure out a way out of Striker’s grasp. He figured he had twenty seconds left before he passed out, maybe less. Striker tightened his arm around his neck like a python.

“YOU BITCH!” was heard from a distance. Alastor looked over—there was another car other than the open van. Adam was inside the car and someone in the back seat with a sack over their head hit him repeatedly.

“Charlie!” Alastor shouted. It took the rest of his strength with his vocal cords to do so and it wasn’t nearly as loud as he wanted it to be.

The masked person snapped their head towards his voice. “Al?!”

It was Charlie. She called him Al.

Newfound strength found its way into Alastor’s being. It was the adrenaline and the determination all at once, the knowledge that Charlie was so close to being his once more. He lost all rational thinking as he slipped into survival mode. He had to get out of Striker’s grip. He sunk his teeth into Striker’s arm and bit down. Hard. The taste of metallic blood flowed into his mouth as the skin broke, even through Striker’s shirt.

Striker let Alastor go from the pain. “Fucker!”

Alastor was up on his feet, staggered a moment, but ran towards Adam’s car. Adam saw him in his mirror and knew that if the Radio Demon caught him, it would be over. He slammed the gas and throttled Charlie back into the seat from impact. The car yelped but took off as Alastor tried to reach them. Adam laughed maniacally as he sped off and Charlie screamed, “Alastor!”

Fuck.

Fuck.

He needed to go after them. Alastor spun around and saw that the only thing keeping him from his car was Striker, who had a gun pointed at him. Striker’s bite wound caused blood to drip down his arm and puddled at the ground beneath him. “Try it,” Striker taunted. Alastor’s eyes were wild. He had to get past him and get in the car before it was too late. “Usually after the product is dropped off, I let shit go,” Striker hissed. “But this is personal, now. I could kill you and dump your body somewhere real easy, you know that?”

Striker watched as Alastor’s blank face turned into an unsettling, menacing grin. He grinned at him and showed all of his teeth, some of which were covered in his blood. “Funny,” the Radio Demon retorted. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Alastor lurched forward.

Striker shot his gun.

Alastor collapsed his body into his, one hand holding the hand with the gun and pointing it up, the other hand pressed into his side. Striker looked at the Radio Demon up close and saw that the grin was, in fact, real. Then, he slumped to the ground.

A knife was in his side, lodged all the way to the handle.

“You…” Striker gasped. How did he dodge his gun shot?

The Radio Demon took his gun, inspected it, then tossed it behind him. “Crude instrument,” he remarked. “I assume you have your phone on you? I figure if the ambulance gets here in the next ten minutes and you keep pressure on your wound, you’ll make it. I’d leave it in, by the way. I didn’t stab you in that fatal of an area, but blood loss is blood loss. Next time you shoot someone, try to be faster about it.”

Alastor stepped over Striker and got into his car. Striker watched him with undignified horror, still in disbelief that he was able to dodge a gun shot. Without another word, the Radio Demon sped off in the same direction as Adam, and before long he was gone.

Notes:

I'm so happy I finished this chapter! I'm also happy that I decided to split this into two chapters instead of one long one, because I really wanted to take my time and not hurry up to the finish line. This story will officially be 25 chapters even and I'm very pleased to say so! ANYHOO onto the notes!

Lucifer: Do you want a gun?
Alastor: lol that's cute. No.

Basically what happened xD

The Striker character I used is in indeed the one from Helluva Boss. At first I didn't think I'd cross over the fandoms, but when I watched Striker's character on HB, I knew he was going to be my bad boy xD

I included the flashback scene of Charlastor to paint the picture of how manipulative Alastor was/can be with sex and how he uses it to deflect Charlie from the real emotional issues. I wanted this scene to demonstrate his need for control. Of course in the previous chapters when Charlie and Alastor had "angry" sex (I use that term very lightly LOL) that's when Charlie didn't let it go and forced Alastor to listen to her say "I love you" to him. So the flashback scene that is in this chapter happened BEFORE the progress Charlie made on Alastor.

One of the most enjoyable things I've had writing Broadcast is deep diving into a complex character like Alastor. I take liberties with it being AU and humanized, but I feel like in this story especially, Alastor was a morally gray character who is slowly leaning towards good because of Charlie. However, without her, I cannot fathom he'd remain neutral and instead go i n s a n e without her. Which, y'know, isn't a healthy relationship and I'm sure something could be said about co-dependency but OH WELL hahahaha.

Thank you for reading my ramblings! Thank you for sticking by with this story, and I cannot wait to give you the final installment next week! <3

Chapter 25

Summary:

The final fight against Adam.

“The nerve of that son-of-a-bitch.”

Husk was equal parts upset with Alastor for leaving him and Vaggie behind while he played vigilante, and upset with himself that it surprised him that Alastor would do it in the first place. He should have known that Alastor was going to be sketchy, the man wasn’t in his right frame of mind. Husk didn’t have to be a good people reader to know why, either. Obviously Alastor planned on doing something insanely illegal and he didn’t want Husk and Vaggie to catch heat for it. Which, sure, could be looked at as heroic if it weren’t for the fact that it was unnecessary and spoke to Alastor’s narcissism.

Most of all, Husk was annoyed at how he couldn’t see the obvious ploy that Alastor had to leave them. “I need to get gas, I’m almost empty,” he had said.

“There’s a gas station coming up,” Vaggie said.

“Yes, excellent. I’ll fill up, why don’t you two go inside and get some drinks? Hmm? I’m sure Charlie will be thirsty.”

Now, there Husk sat at the curb of the gas station, Vaggie next to him, both of them drinking the three-for-two special of lemonade. Vaggie didn’t seem overly upset at Alastor’s betrayal, if anything she seemed resigned to it. She didn’t seem like she was in the best head space after the Lute incident, which Husk wasn’t entirely clear on, but it didn’t matter at the moment. As it happened, Alastor sped off with Husk’s phone that gave the GPS location, and their only option was to use Vaggie’s phone to call for help.

It took forty minutes before Niffty’s little car came rolling up playing rap music. Her passenger’s side window was missing. “What the hell happened?” Vaggie demanded when she saw the sad state of the car.

Niffty only grinned. “Crazy night last night, what can I say. Y’all can hop in! Pentious, get in the back seat.”

Pentious muttered something about calling shotgun, but listened to Niffty regardless. Husk once again wondered when the young man would realize that he was not morally, physically, or contractually obligated to hangout with Niffty. At this point, he had to think that Pentious liked living his life on the edge by hanging out with that child-sized weirdo. Niffty was the last person on the planet that Husk would have asked to come pick them up, but at least she showed up.

“Long time no see, how’s it going?” Niffty asked when Husk and Vaggie got in the car. Husk took the backseat with Pentious while Vaggie took the front seat.

“It’s going bad, Niffty,” Husk growled.

“Yikes, sorry to ask, grandpa,” Niffty replied. Husk fumed in the backseat. Being called grandpa was the cherry on top of the hour drive back home.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Vaggie said. “Husk, do you remember what interstate exit that your phone read?”

“What are you talking about?”

Vaggie turned around to look at him. “What do you mean, what do I mean? We’re going after Alastor, aren’t we?”

“HA! No. We’re going home. Alastor wants to play lonely vigilante like he’s the fucking Batman, that’s on him. He left us at a gas station, Vaggie. It’s been almost an hour since then. He’s long gone.” Husk wanted to marinate in his bad mood. It wasn’t fair for these young kids to ask him to set aside his disgruntlement and still try to help. Was it?

Vaggie wasn’t pleased with his dismissal. “And what if Alastor isn’t long gone, Husk? What if he’s lying on the ground dying because Striker got the upper hand on him?”

Before Husk could dig in his heels, which was exactly what he was going to do, Pentious spoke before him. “You didn’t say Sssssstriker, did you?”

Vaggie eyed the young man instead. “I did say Striker. He’s the one who captured Charlie.”

“That’s not the type of jobs he usually takes.”

“Hold on… you know who Striker is?”

Pentious lifted his hands in the air to show his innocence. “We’re not like friendssss but we have played Mario Kart together at a mutual friend’sssss house party. He let me be Yoshi.”

“Yoshi is the best,” Niffty agreed.

“Timeout!” Vaggie exclaimed. “The man who kidnapped Charlie is a mutual friend of yours?!”

“He just said that they weren’t friends,” Niffty corrected. “Also, if you were Yoshi, who did he play as?”

“Wario.”

“Yes, that makes sense.”

Husk and Vaggie shared a look, their previous disagreement forgotten. “How could you know that makes sense when you don’t know who Striker is?” Husk asked Niffty.

Niffty shrugged. “Don’t question my reasoning.”

Vaggie took control of the situation. “Niffty, drive. Pentious, talk while she drives. Tell us everything you know about Striker and how the fuck y’all know each other.”

“Exit 34,” Husk said. He was back in the game. Whether or not he needed a moment to sulk to himself, or he needed Niffty and Pentious’s ridiculousness to snap him out of it was up to debate.

Niffty didn’t waste time to get back on the interstate and upping her speed up to eighty-five. It seemed slow compared to Alastor’s one-hundred and ten mph. “I’ve got a bit of a history of being a criminal,” Pentious told the car. He sounded a bit ashamed of the fact. “Nothing huge, but my ssssocial circle involved a lot of other petty criminals and thugs, the like. I saw Striker many times at house parties and talked to him sssseveral times. He said that he started out just like me, a nobody on the sssstreets and then he hit it big with some big time clientssss, doing their dirty work. Stealing things for them, transporting goodsss, and eventually he got access to gunssss and upped his work. He was the guy rich people hired when they didn’t want crimessss traced back to them. He told me to throw the brick at Charlie’s rehab. He sssaid it was a good show of willingnesssss.”

Vaggie’s mind raced with this new information. Her worries about Lute’s arm was long gone. “So Striker did the paparazzi photos first. Then he’s hired by Adam to kidnap Charlie because the crime can’t get pinned on Adam if he’s got plenty of eyewitnesses to vouch for him.”

Exit 34 approached. “It looks like it’s closed down,” Niffty commented.

“It’s the one we want,” Husk assured. “Veer left when you get off. And slow down, the road will be rough.”

“Has Striker ever killed anyone, Pentious? Is he really a hit man?” Vaggie asked.

Pentious shrugged. “That’s what he claims. I doubt he’d kill Charlie, though, he knows who her father is. I’m sure the deal was that he kidnapped Charlie. But doesn’t Adam realize that we’d figure out his involvement? I mean, it’s kinda obvioussss.”

“Adam Evans snapped. He doesn’t care about whether or not he’ll get away with it, he wanted to prove that he could do it if he wanted to,” Husk muttered. “He can’t stand losing. Not to Alastor, anyway.”

“No, not Alastor,” Vaggie corrected. “To Charlie. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing mayor because of Charlie. This is more than losing the mayoral race to Lucifer. This is Charlie taking him down on national television. He couldn’t take it.” There was no telling what lied in wait for them when they arrived at the rendezvous point. For all they knew, Alastor was lying dead on the ground and Adam was long gone. Maybe Striker got the best of him. Or, maybe, there was no one there at all and Striker, Adam, Charlie, and Alastor were long gone.

Niffty got off on exit 34. It was time to find out.

~*~*~*~

The worst part about being trapped in the car with Adam wasn’t the fact that her hands were bound, or that there was an increasingly itchy sack on top of her head. It was the obnoxious rock music that Adam decided to play at full blast. “SLAUGHTER THOSE LITTLE CUNTS!” Adam sang along to his music. If Charlie was able to see, she’d be horrified to find that Adam drove down the interstate going over one-hundred miles an hour and still had the gall to do air guitar to his favorite parts of the song. Perhaps it was better that she couldn’t see.

Charlie already tried screaming at Adam. The “let me go!” and “you monster!” and “just wait until dad finds you!” but all Adam did was turn up the volume full blast and ignore his prisoner. Charlie gave up and sat in the back seat, defeated, tied up, and blind.

But she wouldn’t be a Morningstar if she gave up and allowed this to happen to her. There had to be a way to either get her hands free or get her sack loosened. She slowly lifted her hands up and managed to undo her ponytail so it was loose in the sack. With her hair bun free, she tried to see if she could loosen the bag off her head. The sack scraped against her skin and hurt, but she was making progress. The material wasn’t too harsh, it had to be breathable otherwise she would have been dead a long time ago.

Charlie was glad for the loud music because then Adam couldn’t hear her wince in pain. The sack material was so tight against her skin as she tried to wriggle it over her nose. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to put the sack back down and she may be stuck like this—and she doubted that Adam would intervene to help her.

Pleasepleasplease.

With a final yelp, that went unnoticed by her captor, Charlie pulled off the sack. She sat in her seat and panted like she’d just ran for her life. She couldn’t believe that she actually did it!

She assessed her situation. Adam was driving like a maniac, singing along to his music, and he was paying zero attention to her. There was no telling how long it was until they reached their destination, let alone where Alastor was. The last Charlie knew was that Alastor was there at some point before Adam drove off, which left him with Striker. She had no idea if he was safe or not.

For a moment, Charlie allowed herself a moment to wallow in her self-pity. The wallowing ended when she saw Adam’s cell phone on the middle console of the front seat. It was in arm’s reach.

This is a bad idea, Charlie thought to herself. She did it anyway. She reached forward and carefully grabbed Adam’s cell phone. God, he was so worried about playing air guitar and potentially getting them killed that he didn’t notice his phone was gone. Charlie examined his phone. It was sticky. She didn’t want to know why. There was no passcode to get in and his homescreen was a picture of Adam’s face sandwiched between two naked women, their boobs pressed into his face. She grimaced and went into his contacts.

What were the odds that Adam had Alastor’s number? Maybe she could call Alastor and have him trace the call to her?

No, that wouldn’t work. Alastor, bless him, would never be able to figure out how to use tracking. He needed an in between, someone who could help him navigate.

There.

In Adam’s contacts, Charlie saw the name:

Bitchass Fucker.

It was Lucifer’s number. She knew her father’s number the moment she saw it. Charlie hurriedly texted the number:

Dad it’s me

She immediately got a notification back:

You’re a sick duck for texting me >:(

Charlie sighed. She genuinely couldn’t tell if Lucifer’s phone autocorrected “fuck” to “duck” or if Lucifer purposely called his nemesis of over twenty years a duck.

It’s Charlie I have his phone. I’m calling u and then send my location to Alastor

She should have sent this to begin with. Time was precious.

OK sweetie! :)

Charlie dialed “Bitchass Fucker” and immediately put the call on silent. She discreetly locked the phone and slid it towards the front console where she got it from. It would have been a perfect plan… if it hadn’t been for the bluetooth connected in Adam’s car.

The rock music paused. The car called Lucifer and the jig was up. “Yo, what the fuck!” Adam exclaimed. He turned around and saw Charlie was free of her sack. “You little fucking bitch how dare you touch my stuff!”

“Hello?!” Lucifer’s voice said in the car. “Charlie, are you okay?!”

Adam hung up the phone. “Biggest mistake of your life, you little cunt.” He grabbed something from the front seat that had a handle. Charlie had enough time to realize it was a baseball bat before it collided with the side of her head and everything went black.

~*~*~*~

He almost didn’t answer the phone but during the last ring he decided that Lucifer wouldn’t call him unless it was important. “Yes,” Alastor answered. He didn’t bother hiding his terse tone. Unlike Adam, let alone most people, Alastor didn’t have bluetooth set up in his car and he had his dinosaur phone on speaker.

“It’s Angel,” the voice replied. “I know you’re by yourself because Vaggie texted me that you abandoned them. That’s cold.”

“If you have nothing of value to say then I’m hanging up,” Alastor growled.

“Okay! Sheesh! Charlie is with Adam. She called Lucifer with his phone. The call only lasted a few seconds but I was able to trace it.”

“Without Husk?”

“Husk ain’t the only tech savvy one around here! He’s not some whiz just because he found a phone tracking app, okay, that doesn’t make him special.” Angel took a deep breath over the phone and realigned himself with his mission. “Adam was headed back to New Orleans before he discarded his own phone. We don’t have an answer as to where he’s going, but we know that he was trying to get back in the city.”

Alastor gripped the steering wheel even harder. Adam had to go and toss out his phone, fuck.

“Alastor?” a voice in the background asked. It was Lucifer. “Alastor, listen, I’ve got cops staked out at his mansion and his family’s house. If he pulls up there, we’ll know.”

He’s not going home, Alastor thought. Where was he headed? Where could he possibly go with Charlie as his captive? What was his endgame? Alastor closed his eyes—just a brief moment, he was driving still—but long enough for there to be only darkness in his vision.

His eyes snapped back open. “Keep me updated.” He hung up the phone without another word. He couldn’t waste any time and the wrong guess could about where to go could get Charlie killed. But he had a guess where they could be headed… it sat in the pit of his stomach and filled him with dread. He just hoped that this guess wasn’t wrong, as much as he didn’t want it to be right, either.

~*~*~*~

“Holy shit he’s alive.”

When the ragtag group arrived at the scene on exit 34, it wasn’t Alastor or Adam they found, but Striker. The self-proclaimed hit man was leaned up against the tire of his van. He was very pale and upon closer inspection, the group discovered why—there was a knife lodged into his side.

“Hey Striker, how are you?” Pentious asked when he approached him.

Striker had enough energy to give him a dirty look. “Not fucking great, Pentious.”

“Because of the knife?”

“Yeah dickwad, because of the knife.”

Husk intervened between them. “Where the fuck is Adam going with Charlie?”

Striker eyed him. “Aren’t you that old fuck who tried to chase me at the jazz club?”

Husk bared his teeth. “As a matter of fact, he is that old fuck!” Niffty exclaimed. “Now tell us where our friend is, you scum!”

Striker chuckled. He didn’t seem too affected by her threats. “Adam Evans took matters into his own hands. As far as I’m concerned, it’s got nothing to do with me anymore.”

“That’s code for he has no fucking clue,” Vaggie said, the sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Alright, Husk, grab his feet. Pentious, grab his shoulders. Niffty, open the trunk.”

“What the fuck?” Pentious and Husk asked in unison.

Vaggie shook her head. “We’ve gotta take him to the hospital! Right?”

Niffty shrugged. “We could leave him.”

“Niffty!”

“What?!”

Striker laughed. “I ain’t going anywhere with you. Just leave me.”

“You heard the man,” Husk agreed. “Who are we to disrespect a dying man’s wish?”

Vaggie made a face. “We’re taking him to the hospital whether you like it or not. Whether he wants to go or not?”

“WHY?” everyone asked, including Striker.

Vaggie threw her hands up in frustration. “Because it’s what Charlie would want! It’s what she would do! Now let’s go, people! HUSTLE!”

~*~*~*~

This time when she came around, her headache was back with a vengeance but she knew why. Getting a baseball bat cracked against the side of your head will do that to you. There was no way she’d make it out of this without some form of concussion. She couldn’t see it, but the dried blood on the side of her head from the bat only proved her suspicion correct.

Charlie didn’t have the luxury of focusing on her head, there were much more distressing details to focus on. First and foremost, the smell of smoke.

Fire.

She startled up when she realized that something was burning. She found that she was tied up in a chair and this time her feet were bound together by ropes. Her mouth had duct tape on it and she screamed into the tape anyway, with no luck.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Adam said. “Sorry, I was just using this opportunity to look over your notes and plans. You really did put a lot of time into this shit, didn’t you?”

It took Charlie a moment to fully process what she was looking at. Adam was at a desk rummaging through papers and folders. The chair she was on was actually an office chair. There was familiar art work on the wall.

Charlie’s eyes widened in horror… this was her office. They were at the rehab center. She screamed into her tape. What was burning? Where was the fire? What was happening? She had kept her cool up until this moment, but now the panic and fear washed through her and she screamed and screamed into the tape.

Adam laughed. He looked at her and she saw him in a new light. He looked unhinged; the way his eyes sunk into his sockets, the deep set lines in his face as he grinned, and the soulless, maniacal laugh as he watched her scream. He enjoyed every bit of it. The man who made himself an enemy of her family, first her father, now her.

“Everything you love is going to burn to the fucking ground,” Adam told her. “And you’ll burn with it. That’s what happens, Charlie, when you fuck with Adam Evans. You have ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the fire spreads to the second story. Maybe you’ll pass out first from the smoke in your lungs.” He threw all of Charlie’s papers and laptop off her desk and watched it fly everywhere in the room. “Just remember what you died for, Morningstar. You tried to help a bunch of fucking losers. Hell, you couldn’t even save one crackhead whore. You can’t even save yourself. When you burn, Charlie, you’ll burn as a fucking nobody.”

Adam walked over and tore the tape off of Charlie’s mouth. He leaned in close, his face leering a few inches away from hers, and she stared into his soulless eyes. There was no one to save inside of Adam Evans—there was no man hiding behind the beast. He was just the monster.

“You can scream now,” Adam whispered.

Charlie spit in his face. He lurched back and wiped the spit off of his cheek. “You fucking bitch! When will you learn?!”

Adam went to kick Charlie square in the stomach. The impact sent her flying in her office chair and she spit up from the sudden onslaught of pain. He laughed and approached her for more. “Just one more hit and I’m outta here, you little bitch.”

He reared back for another strike. Charlie’s entire body was on fire, just like her precious Hazbin Hotel. Whatever hit that Adam wanted to strike her with, she just wanted him to get it over with. She was already in so much pain, what difference did it make? Adam went to punch her in the face and she squeezed her eyes shut—only to hear the sound of someone hitting the wall.

Charlie opened her eyes. Adam was clear across the room, crumpled on the floor. Someone actually threw him. Alastor stood before her; wild, raw, unhinged in his own desperate way. But the gleam of humanity was still behind his eyes.

As soon as she saw him, tears sprung to her eyes. She wasn’t sure if this was a hallucination brought on by the last moments of her life, but she was so glad to see him for the last time. “Oh, Al,” Charlie croaked.

The hallucination of Alastor ran to her and knelt down before her. “Charlotte, look at me, are you alright?” he demanded.

“The fire, Al.” He tried to free her hands but Adam was back on his feet sooner than either of them were prepared for. Charlie’s eyes widened when she saw him approach. “Behind you!”

Adam swung down with a baseball bat, the same one he had in the front seat of the car. He must have brought it in with him. Alastor rolled to the right and the bat smashed onto the floor, right in front of Charlie’s feet. Before Adam could heave the bat up and whack Charlie, Alastor lunged at him and took him to the ground. The two men struggled against each other in a flurry of punches, shoves, and kicks. This was nothing like their first fight on Vox News—this was personal. These were punches intended to knock someone out with.

“You’ll have to hurry, the fire is spreading!” Adam cackled. He headbutted Alastor and got the upper hand by climbing on top of him. He wasted no time to swing his baseball bat down relentlessly onto Alastor, as hard as he could swing.

“Al!” Charlie screamed. She strained against her bindings. She had to get free and help him.

Alastor blocked the majority of the hits with his forearms and protected his face, but his body still took damage from the blunt force of the bat. His bones cracked as the bat smashed against it. He gritted his teeth and bared the pain of it as it shot through his entire body. When Adam had his hands up with the bat and prepared to strike down, Alastor made his move. The Radio Demon pushed past the pain and poked Adam in the eyes with a clawed hand. He made sure to dig his digits into his eye sockets.

“YOU BITCH!” Adam screamed. The sudden burst of pain in his eyes made him pause. That was all Alastor needed.

He grabbed the bat and shoved the handle up and into Adam’s face. The crunch was the sound of Alastor breaking Adam’s nose—again. The ex-mayoral candidate screamed in pain and lurched forward.

Alastor freed himself and hurried over to Charlie. He had to ignore any pain and any doubt, his only concern was getting Charlie to safety. If the only knife Alastor had on himself was the one he lodged into Striker, he would have had a tough time getting Charlie’s ropes off. He cursed himself for his display of mercy earlier, but that was not important to harp on. There was a box cutter in Charlie’s desk that he saw once and he hurriedly grabbed it and began to hacksaw into the ropes.

The room sweltered in heat from the fire raging below. The smoke was everywhere. Charlie and Alastor coughed as the smoke nestled in their lungs. Finally, Alastor freed her feet. He looked up at her as he tried to free her hands. For the first time since she was taken, they properly locked eyes.

“You found me,” she whispered.

“Your head is bleeding,” he whispered back.

“Oh, uh, yeah I put up a fight.”

He grinned. “I’d expect nothing less from you, darling.” Alastor almost had her hands free. He thought about where they could go to get out of here. Going down to the first floor was out of the question, the fire was too strong. Adam was a smart one, he knew to start the fire in the basement and first story so the place would burn faster. Alastor barely made it through the entrance and up to them on the second story. He had to break a window to get inside because the door was too hot.

They had to get out of here from the second story, there was no other way.

Finally, Charlie’s hands were free. Alastor picked her up bridal style and lead her out of the office. Adam still writhed on the floor but he could be up at any moment. The hallway was much worse than the office; the tips of the fire licked up, so close to spreading to the second floor. The heat was intense, the smoke so black and thick that Alastor could hardly see. He persisted and hurried from Charlie’s office to one of the rooms that he hoped was the one he wanted. He didn’t try to open the door with the handle, he knew it would burn him. Alastor managed to kick the door open while holding Charlie.

“What are we doing?” Charlie asked.

“Getting out of here,” Alastor answered. He hurried to the window and set Charlie down. Fuck, he wished that he brought Adam’s baseball bat with him. He used the window curtains to cover his hands and lifted up the window. “This is the side of the building with the dumpster, see?” he asked Charlie.

She peered out the window. More than the dumpster, this was the side of the building that had all of their piles and piles of old furniture that they cleaned out. “I told Angel to call the trash removal!” Charlie squeaked.

“It’s a good thing he didn’t. Our only option is to jump and thanks to Angel’s laziness, we have a sofa to aim for,” Alastor replied. He had to hurry. It wouldn’t be long until Adam was back up. Without wasting another moment, Alastor picked Charlie up and leaned out the window. It took great strength for him to hold her out of the window while keeping himself in place. He eyeballed where the old sofa was the best he could.

She read his mind. It wasn’t hard to guess what ideas swirled through his mind. “You’ll jump with me, won’t you?” she asked.

His eyes met hers. Time stopped for the both of them and for a moment, there was no fire, no danger, no one else. “I love you,” Alastor whispered.

“Alastor, do—nooo!”

Several things happened at once:

Alastor let go of Charlie.

She saw Adam come up behind Alastor as she fell.

Adam swung with the baseball bat.

Charlie fell from the second story and landed on the old sofa, relatively unharmed. Unfortunately for her, however, she saw the impact of the bat hitting Alastor in the jaw. Adam pulled Alastor back into the building and it was over.

“ALASTOR!” Charlie screamed. She screamed with everything she had left in her voice.

This wasn’t the end. No, it couldn’t be. She was going to go back in there and save him. It didn’t matter if he didn’t think he was worth saving, or if he thought he wasn’t capable of redemption. Charlie fucking Morningstar was going to save him if it was the last thing she did.

~*~*~*~

“Finally, I can see you bleed!” Adam laughed hysterically. He was quite pleased when the bat collided with Alastor’s face and sent the Radio Demon crumpling down. Adam wasted no time to continuously whack and whack Alastor. He had to make sure that he couldn’t move after this, then he could jump out the window to safety and go after Charlie. “You know what the funniest part of all this is?” Adam asked as he beat the other man down. “Even if I go to prison, which I’m sure I will, I have enough fucking money that it won’t matter! Prison isn’t so bad when you’re treated like a white-collar criminal and you have the family connections to back you up!”

Charlie was safe. That was all Alastor had to worry about. His face and body was beaten down by the bat and pain was everywhere—but pain was always welcomed to the Radio Demon. He waited until Adam repeated his same sloppy mistake, because men like Adam always did. Men like Adam always thought that they were better than everyone else, their hubris was their downfall. Adam thought that Alastor wouldn’t grab the bat from him because he repeatedly beat him down, he thought that Alastor was too weak to strike back.

The bat went up in the air.

Alastor summoned all of his strength. His thoughts fueled his actions—he thought about Adam calling Charlie a cunt, a bitch, the way he kidnapped her, how he hit her, hurt her, all of the things he could have possibly done to her. He jumped to his feet with inhumane speed and grabbed Adam by the throat. His entire hand wrapped around his throat and Adam immediately gagged. The baseball bat dropped to the floor.

Suddenly, Adam wasn’t face-to-face with a man who had his own talk show Monday-Friday. The eyes that pierced into his soul were not human at all; they were the eyes of a monster. Adam didn’t think he could ever be afraid of other men (why would he? He was the superior man of them all) but in his final moment, as his vocal cords collapsed and his air passages were shut tight from the way that Alastor squeezed him, Adam finally understood.

Some men were monsters underneath.

The Radio Demon was one of those men.

Alastor held Adam’s entire body weight up by one hand with a vice grip around his neck. Adam gagged and choked as his air passages closed and Alastor grinned. It didn’t matter how bloody and beaten he was, he still had that demonic grin.

“You won’t go to prison,” Alastor uttered. He took a step. Another. Another. Another. His eyes were wild and his grin couldn’t get any wider. “You’ll burn in hell for what you did to Charlie. And when I see you in hell, we can do this all over again.”

It clicked then what Alastor planned to do with him. Adam couldn’t even scream or protest. All he could do was commit the image of Alastor’s demonic, grinning face to memory. That was the last image Adam saw before Alastor reared his arm back and threw him outside of the room. Adam flew into the very fire he created.

He was swallowed up into the flames.

Alastor, having exerted the rest of the strength inside of him, collapsed to the floor. The smoke was in his lungs, his vision was blurry, and the pain was winning. But Adam was dead and Charlie was safe—a job well done, indeed.

That’s when he saw her. A golden-haired angel, she ran to him. The darkness that swirled his vision blurred her face, but then he heard her voice.

“Al! I’m here!”

“No!” he cried. “You were supposed to get to safety!”

“Not without you!”

Alastor felt her tug his body along. He tried his best not to be dead weight, but all of his senses were blurring. His hearing, his vision, and the pain throbbed through his entire body. The next thing he knew, there was air all around him.

He was falling.

He hit the same sofa that he dropped Charlie onto. He tried to call out for her, tried to lift his lead-filled arms up to her, but the moment he realized that he was out of the burning building, he fell unconscious.

The black consumed him.

~*~*~*~

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Her eyes fluttered open. At first she only saw white, then her vision adjusted to the light and she realized she was looking at the white of a ceiling. She knew she was lying down and propped up with pillows. All at once she understood that she was in a hospital and the subtle beeps of the machine were just part of the being in a room. Charlie tested out her fingers; they moved. She wiggled her toes and flexed her feet. So far so good.

She should have noticed sooner that there was pressure on her lap. She looked down and saw Alastor leaned over her hospital bed, facing her, but his eyes shut. He looked to be in a listless slumber. Her heart wrenched in her chest—how long had he been there? How much time passed?

The last thing Charlie remembered was throwing Alastor out of the second story window and hoping and praying that he hit the couch. As soon as she knew that he was safe, she collapsed. She had to walk through fire to get to him, after all. She didn’t remember that it hurt—for all she knew, it was excruciating pain—all she knew was that she had to get Alastor out of the building. She couldn’t let anything happen to him.

Maybe we’re both dead and this is a shared delusion, she thought to herself. Well, if that was true, was that such a bad thing?

Charlie reached out a careful, shaky hand and placed it gently on the side of Alastor’s face. His eyes immediately snapped open and found hers.

For a moment, nothing was spoken. Everything that could be said between them was in their eyes. Without a word, Alastor caught Charlie’s hand and brought it to his lips, giving her fingertips a silent kiss. Charlie saw that Alastor looked quite rough, and she didn’t even want to see what she looked like. He had a black eye and dried blood on his nose. She was sure that there was much more damage beneath the clothes he wore, which were still the same red ensemble he wore to the charity ball. He never went home, did he?

“You know what I’m going to say,” Alastor croaked, moving his lips against her fingers.

Charlie sighed deeply and sunk into the pillow as much as she could. “What you should say is ‘thanks’ for throwing you out of the burning building,” she replied. Alastor didn’t expect that level of sass from her, but hearing it made him grin. She couldn’t help her own small smile. “And what I’ll say back is ‘thank you for saving me’ and we’ll call it even. Hmm? We saved each others’ lives, how about that? No winner, no loser.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed. He bit the pad of Charlie’s pointer finger and ran his fang along the side of it. “But if there’s no winner, there’s no reward.”

“Unless we’re both winners,” she mused.

“Yes, unless we’re both winners. Then we both get a reward, I suppose.” Alastor climbed up on the bed and straddled her very carefully. As far as it stood, they were alone. How long they’d be alone, Charlie wasn’t sure. She didn’t care. Alastor looked rough as he exposed more of himself to her. He’d taken off his coat and vest and was only in his slacks, dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and shoes. The shirt was bloodied. He didn’t move with the same litheness that he usually did, it was obvious just by the way he got up on the bed. Alastor was a bruised, beaten man.

Charlie reached her hands out and cupped Alastor’s cheeks. She held his face in her hands and he nestled himself on top of her, not quite using all his weight, but enough to make her feel secured into the bed. “What happened to Adam?” she whispered. She didn’t want to say his name but she had to know what became of him.

“He didn’t make it.” Alastor’s voice was icy when he said it.

“And the building? Did anyone else die?”

“No one was in the building except for the three of us. The firefighters arrived soon after you threw me out, and they contained the fire before it spread to the hospital next door.” Alastor turned his face into her palm and savored the feel of her skin. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel her touch again. “You came back for me,” Alastor murmured.

“You wouldn’t have made it out if I hadn’t,” she replied.

His eyes met hers. “Perhaps that’s true… but it wouldn’t have mattered, because I knew that you were safe. And then you had to go back in the building, didn’t you? How were you not burned? The entire first floor was engulfed in flames.”

Her rabbit heart beat into her chest almost painfully. “I just had to save you,” Charlie whispered.

“You scared me. You almost died.”

“So did you.”

“That would have been okay.”

“No, Alastor! Not to me! I would not have been okay if you had died, do you hear me?! This is why I went back after you! I don’t want to live without you, understand?”

He did a mixture of a growl and a hiss and bit the palm of Charlie’s hand. “You could have died. Do you understand that? And then I would have had to live with the knowledge that the woman I love most in this awful fucking world died for me and that’s not acceptable, do you hear me, Charlotte? That’s not fucking acceptable.”

She wasn’t ready for his kiss. It felt like they hadn’t locked lips in ages, like the past forty-eight hours had aged them five years. Alastor poured his desperation into their kiss; he wanted her to taste how forlorn he had been without her. His mouth was unrelenting against hers and he had the advantage by straddling on top of her. Alastor took Charlie’s hands in his own and pinned them by her head and into the pillow. The only focus she had was his mouth—he wouldn’t allow for any other distractions. His tongue, his teeth, all of it—Alastor consumed her, drank her up, and she was at his sweet, unforgiving mercy.

This is what she wanted her head to swim with. The heady, intoxicating scent and taste of Alastor. Charlie succumbed to his onslaught. She wanted him to dominate her, she wanted to feel like she was his only focus.

Their lips broke apart with a gasp from her and spit running between their lips. Alastor buried his face into the crook of her neck and very quietly his entire body wracked with a sob. Charlie’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Was Alastor… was he crying?

He buried his face into her bare skin and held her tightly. There was a level of shame attached to it, although the shame was all from him, she would never make him feel bad or weak for crying. Charlie wasn’t positive that he was crying, he made sure to keep his face low and pressed into her… but she felt the hot wetness against her neck.

Oh, Alastor. The Radio Demon, the man who was so prideful, who cared so much about his reputation, who cared even more about his vulnerability to the world. The man who would have never, ever let anyone see him shed a tear, yet there he was, at his weakest in front of Charlie.

She would have rubbed his shoulders in comfort, but Alastor still made it a point to pin her hands down in his grip. “Alastor…” she whispered.

“I almost lost you,” he croaked.

He was a broken man. She didn’t think she’d ever hear someone sound so lost like he sounded in that moment. Charlie’s eyes swelled up in tears. “You didn’t lose me, Al. I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”

There was no reply. Alastor peppered kisses along her neck and moved one of his hands off of her own to cover her eyes, then he moved his face up and claimed her lips once more. Charlie tasted the salt of his tears on her tongue. She never thought the day would come when she’d taste the tears of the Radio Demon, yet here it was, and she savored the taste like a coveted wine. It was important to him that she didn’t see him like this, even though she wanted nothing more than to assure him that it was okay, it was fine. Alastor sniffled (oh fuck, it was so cute to hear him sniffle she almost squealed) and he took his hand off of her eyes.

She opened her eyes. His face was just a centimeter away from hers. He had wiped his face but she knew the redness from his eyes was unmistakable.

He cried for you… she thought. Her heart swelled.

“What are the odds you’ll lock the door and cover the camera?” Charlie asked.

Alastor knew instantly what she was after. “But you’re hurt,” he objected.

“You’ll have to be gentle. Then, once I’m better, you can be as rough as you want.”

Fuck.

Charlie gave Alastor purpose. He let go of his burst of weakness and focused on his newfound conviction. He hoped that she didn’t notice him wince when he got off the bed (she did) and he hurriedly went to lock the door. As it happened, the hospital rooms didn’t have locks. Alastor took the guest chair and barricaded the door with it. He stared up at the camera in the corner of the room. He pondered what to do until he reached up and—

Crunch.

Snapped it off its wires and tossed it to the floor.

“Al!” Charlie squeaked. “That’s property of the hospital! They’ll charge you for that!”

He shrugged. “Your dad will pay for it, I’m sure.” Despite herself, despite everything, Charlie couldn’t help but laugh at that. The sound of her joyous laughter made him grin, and she opened her arms to him. How could he refuse her? He stalked slowly over to her, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. Alastor paused at the foot of the bed, wondering if he should turn off the room lights. She sensed his hesitation. “It’s okay, want to see you. Bruises and all.”

Alastor shrugged off his dress shirt without another hesitation. Charlie sucked in a breath but but her bottom lip to keep herself from having too much of a reaction. Alastor looked awful, to say the least. His entire upper body was covered in angry, purple bruises, some of them so dark that they looked black. It was the baseball bat. How much pain did Alastor have to endure?

The tables turned and he read her mind in return. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who was hit in the head twice.” Alastor quickly left the bed and turned off the room light. Before Charlie could object, he went across the room and turned on the table lamp, which provided ample, soft light, then put his red overcoat over the lamp to give the room a red-tinted dim lighting. “Much better,” he said.

“Come here,” Charlie said, with just a little whine in her voice.

“How can I refuse my princess?”

He was back on the bed and this time his trousers were discarded to the foot of the bed. Charlie tested her flexibility and wiggled her hips, then raised her knees up. The thin blanket that had covered her fell between her legs and she found that she was in one of those hospital gowns that only covered the front of her, and very pathetically didn’t cover much of the back or the side. Charlie and Alastor seemed to have the same thought and she caught his clawed hand mid-air. “Don’t you dare rip this,” she warned. She couldn’t fathom the embarrassment of having to ask the nurse for a new gown while her old one was tattered on the floor and Alastor sat there looking pleased with himself.

“If you insist,” Alastor said with a grin of amusement. He dove in and put his face into her curves, while his hands gripped her firmly on either side of her hips. He held her down and explored the expanse of her upper body with his face, until finally he found what he was searching for. Alastor grabbed the string of the gown by his teeth and pulled. The futile knot came loose, standing no chance. Alastor let go of the string and bit the material of the gown that wrapped around her front, moving his head to pull the gown off and expose her. Charlie, her mind clouded with lust, helped the best she could by holding her arm out and letting the gown come off and expose her completely.

Alastor stared at his prize. The woman he coveted, the woman he’d go to hell for. She laid before him, her naked body on display for his eyes to consume. It seems that the hospital gown was the only thing she wore, her panties long gone somewhere forgotten. Alastor didn’t hide the drool that pooled out of the corner of his mouth—he wanted her to see how feral she made him, how hungry he was for her.

She didn’t make it out of this unscathed, either. She had bruises and cuts littered across her torso, none as angry as the ones that covered his body, instead of purple and black hers were red and yellow. He spotted a bruise mark on her upper right arm—it was of a hand print. A bruise the size of fingertips. Fury rose up inside of him when he saw it. Who dared grabbed his Charlie in that matter?

“I put up a fight,” she said as if to explain herself. She blushed and sank into the pillow even further, as if the idea of suddenly being on display for him to see her was too much. “You’ll have to mark me up, Al,” she whispered. “Make me yours.”

Her words went straight to his cock. She spoke to the primal man inside of him who wanted nothing more than to sheath himself inside of her, bottom out, and recklessly fuck her tight heat. “You’re hurt,” Alastor argued, his voice tight.

“I can take it.” She looked at him with the beginning look of desolation. “My rehab center is burned down to nothing. I don’t want to think about any of it. I just want to think about you. Please, Al, I just want to enjoy this small moment and drown in you.”

He felt lightheaded from her words. How could she disarm him in the sweetest ways?

“Me too,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

That was all that needed to be said.

He dipped his head down and took one of her boobs in his mouth. He massaged the other one with one hand, while his other hand began to play with her inner thighs. She responded by leaning back into the pillow and letting out a small moan, encouraging his ministrations. Alastor swirled his tongue around her nipple until it hardened in his mouth, then let it go. He trailed his mouth up and down her soft, supple skin with his tongue. He licked, nipped, and when he found a patch of flesh that was particularly soft, he latched down and sucked. All while he massaged her outer lips with his fingers. It didn’t take long for his hand to be drenched with her wetness all the way up to knuckles.

There was something euphoric about this that he didn’t think he could ever describe. Nothing like pulling out the essence of her and feeling it on his hands, tangible proof that she ached for him and wanted him as badly as he did, with the proof the cock that strained painfully against his boxers. He worshiped her body with his mouth, leading the trail with his tongue. Her hands fluttered into his hair and she gently grabbed his unruly locks and held on for life.

He scooped his hands down to the globes of her ass and lifted her lower body up to his waiting, drooling mouth. “W-wh-are you sure no one can walk in on us?” Charlie asked with a sharp inhale.

Alastor grinned and settled her legs to rest over his shoulders. He couldn’t decide if he liked her legs on his shoulders best or around his waist. “I’m sure,” he purred. Charlie’s upper half was still on the bed in the pillows, and Alastor made himself comfortable and sat on his knees to properly hold her lower body up and in front of his face.

They both knew what was coming. He played with her first and bit her inner thighs, reveling in the way she squirmed and squeezed her legs between his head. “Alastor,” Charlie moaned. “I don’t think I’ll last long.”

He smirked into her thigh and peered up into her warm, fleshy folds. “All that matters is if you enjoy it,” he replied. “And I must say, I’m glad you do, because there’s nothing like drinking you up.” Without another moment wasted, Alastor gripped Charlie’s ass tighter and brought her up to his waiting mouth.

She let out a long mewl when his tongue plunged between her legs. She didn’t know if this was ever going to happen again, this euphoric feeling of Alastor’s tongue tasting her most intimate part, especially considering the past twenty-four hours of her life. He licked her like he savored her; long, languid strokes of his muscled tongue. He brought her essence in his mouth and tasted how salty sweet she was, how perfect. His favorite part, however, was the way she trembled for him. How he made her tremble for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered, just Charlie. The way she breathed heavier in short pants, the writhing, and of course, the way her thighs squeezed him. Alastor was starting to become an expert when she was getting close to climax and the satisfaction bubbled up inside of him.

He popped his mouth off of her. She looked up at him, at a loss for why he stopped. “Look at me,” Alastor commanded.

Charlie did just that. She held Alastor’s dark, heady gaze as he settled back to feast on her cunt. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he assaulted her clit. Charlie stood no chance when he worked her bundle of nerves and she cried out as she came. Usually, Alastor would let Charlie ride his face with everything she had, and if he was feeling especially in the mood, he’d eat her out until she had a second one.

Tonight, however, he wanted to indulge them both.

The moment Charlie came on his tongue, Alastor quickly unlatched his mouth and moved her hips down, wasting no time to sheath himself inside of her in one smooth stroke. Charlie gasped at the sudden change from tongue to cock. The pleasure intensified when his cock took over and entered her, pulsating inside of her. Alastor gritted his teeth at suddenly being inside her—fuck, the way she gripped him, the way she felt around him.

Alastor watched in lustful satisfaction as Charlie came around his cock and writhed into the pillows beneath her.

He mounted her on the bed and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved. Charlie leaned forward and found his lips, finally taking a kiss for herself. They were sloppy, both of their minds absolute mush, but they found a rhythm anyway. She moved her hands down the length of his bare back; some of the skin was scarred, some of it smooth. Alastor didn’t stop her or shy away from her exploring. He focused on nibbling her bottom lip and settling into a steady pace.

Alastor broke their kiss so he could look at her. He hovered above her head and saw the way her golden hair fanned around her in such perfect waves. From this close, he heard the faint gasps that left her pursed lips every single time he filled her to the hilt.

“You’re perfect, you know,” he muttered.

Her eyes searched his. “You are too.”

“Hardly.”

“No one is perfect, Al.”

“But you are to me, Charlotte.”

“Well, then if that’s how it works, you’re perfect to me, Alastor.”

Defiant woman.

She cupped his face in her hands. Her faint moans weren’t so faint anymore, and he could tell by the way she clenched around him that she was getting close. “I love you, Alastor.”

His release claimed him, harshly and quickly. It exploded behind his eyelids and he groaned as he came inside of her. Alastor leaned forward and bit her shoulder as he rode his release out in hard strokes. She followed suit and clung onto him as she found her second climax.

They were both battered, bruised, and completely in bliss. Most importantly, they were together.

~*~*~*~

It was wise of them not to rush their session, because not long after their post-orgasm bliss, there was rapid knocking on the door. “Charlie!” several voices said behind the door.

Luckily, Alastor had already dressed himself. Charlie’s only job was to put her hospital gown back on, which she did as Alastor moved the chair. “Ready?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she grinned. After that sex session, she felt like she could walk through fire all over again.

The moment that Alastor opened the door, the rest of the gang came barreling in. Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Pentious, and of course, Lucifer. They all ran past Alastor like he was just a part of the furniture and surrounded Charlie in the hospital bed. By the time they got to the bed, Pentious and Lucifer were already crying big, fat tears.

“Oh my sweet darling precious wonderful amazing Charlie,” Lucifer blubbered through his tears.

“Hey dad,” Charlie said with a small smile. On second thought, maybe she wasn’t ready for this. She looked past her friends and locked eyes with Alastor, who respectfully gave her and her loved ones space. He gave her a quick wink. “I’m okay, everyone,” Charlie assured. “The doctor said nothing crazy and lots of rest, but overall I’m okay.”

“You went into a fucking building that was on fire!” Vaggie exclaimed.

“I did,” Charlie agreed.

“And ya somehow threw Radio Demon out the window while you were at it,” Angel commented.

“How fortunate there was a couch to catch his fall,” Lucifer said. Everyone eyed him. “What?! I’m being genuine, how fortunate!”

Alastor cleared his throat. “I think Charlie needs a little breathing room, everyone.” Never mind that as little as twelve minutes ago he was balls deep inside of her and invading all of her “breathing” room.

Everyone dispersed except Lucifer, who sat next to Charlie on the hospital bed and held his daughter’s hand. “I’m so proud of you, Charlie,” he said, his voice lowered.

She smiled at her father’s words. “Thanks, dad.”

“I mean it, Charlie. Not just because of what happened, but because you made it happen. Everyone in this room—you’ve changed my mind, you’ve touched their hearts, found the good in souls gone bad…” Lucifer leaned down and kissed Charlie’s temple. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

Whatever shred that Charlie had to keep it together fell apart at the seam. She didn’t hide the tears that fell down her cheeks. “It’s burned to the ground, dad,” she croaked. “All of my hard work, all of our hard work… it’s gone.”

“We’ll rebuild it, Charlie. I promise you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to just snap your fingers and make it better because you’ll be mayor. I know I should be grateful, and I know I probably sound like a child… but I wanted the pride of knowing that I built Hazbin Hotel myself.”

Lucifer smiled and gently grasped Charlie’s chin. He turned her head towards the rest of the room—Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Pentious, and of course, Alastor. All eyes were on the father and daughter Morningstar duo. “It’s not about the hotel, kiddo,” Lucifer whispered. “It’s about the vision. My rehab project failed because I lost vision in it… I see that now. I gave up and therefore, it gave up on me. But look at the people in this room who love you, Charlie. Whether you have a building or not, you have a vision, and they believe in it. They believe in you.”

Charlie buried her face into Lucifer’s chest, as if she were a little girl all over again. She sobbed and her whole body wracked from it. Lucifer welcomed her in his arms and rubbed her back in small circles, just like he did when she really was a little girl. “I love you all,” Charlie blubbered between her sobs.

“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t love you back, toots,” Angel said.

“Tonight, let’s not worry about the hotel,” Husk said. He cleared his throat, hoping that no one noticed him getting choked up. Everyone else can cry, that was good and dandy, but he couldn’t cry. No way. “Tonight, we celebrate. We’ve got Charlie and Alastor back, I think that’s worth a celebration, don’t you?”

Charlie leaned back, her cheeks soaked from tears, but she smiled anyway. “B-but I’m in the h-hospital.”

Niffty giggled. “We’ll bust you out—duh!”

~*~*~*~

It took two days, but Charlie finally gathered the courage to go back to her rehab center and face the music that it was gone. All of the long days and long nights spent in her office, nodding off in her chair, the music that Angel would play from his speaker during work, the Chinese takeout boxes that Vaggie would leave overnight and the entire first floor smelling like noodles the next day, the potted plants that Niffty adopted, the wasp nest that Husk found and the scream Pentious let out when he hit it with a broom handle, the late afternoon card games, Husk teaching them how to play poker, Niffty losing fifty bucks and immediately getting it back from pure luck, Vaggie and her painting coveralls, Angel and his picky carpet selections… all of it, all the memories, it all flooded into her.

The first day Alastor walked into her rehab center and how she brought coffee and donuts for everyone. She was so mad at him that day and was so convinced that he would get the pictures for his blog and she’d never see him again. How wonderfully wrong she was about him. Alastor painting over the vandalism, the way he called in Husk to help keep watch, his meticulous approach to everything.

Maybe Lucifer was right… it wasn’t about the building at all. It was about the vision.

Charlie bravely got out of the car. Alastor got out of the driver’s seat. The building was in complete rubble, nothing but ash remained. The hospital right next to it was spared thanks to the long, unused tunnel that connected the two buildings. When Charlie heard that only fourteen minutes had passed from when the fire began to when the firefighters arrived, she couldn’t believe it. Fourteen minutes that felt like hours. She supposed that it made sense, and she had no proof otherwise.

Charlie had yet to see the rubble for herself, she just imagined what it looked like from what the others told her. She couldn’t see anything because of the blindfold around her eyes. She was nervous, that much was obvious from her body language and how she tried to hide herself in her oversized sweater. Alastor walked around the car and put an assuring arm around her shoulders. “You don’t need to be nervous,” he said gently.

“I know,” she replied. “But I am.”

“I know.”

“Can I take the blindfold off yet?”

Alastor hummed to himself and grabbed Charlie’s shoulders, turning her in the direction he wanted her to face. She giggled at being manhandled by him, especially when she couldn’t see his grinning face. Finally satisfied, Alastor said, “Alright. Ready?”

“Yes.”

He slid his hand up and purposely caressed her cheek before he undid the blindfold and slid it up and over her head. “Ta-da,” he whispered.

Charlie saw the rubble, ash, and destruction. There was no longer a Hazbin Hotel, instead there was crumpled heap of what used to be. Her eyes fixated on the disaster for a long, long moment. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. We’ll have to sweep up the ash.”

Alastor laughed in delight at her comment. “Oh, yes,” he agreed. “There shall be lots of sweeping, I assure you.”

She bit her lip and tried to force down the tears. “Why did you insist on me wearing a blindfold?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Well darling, sometimes when you have bad news and good news to give someone, it’s better to give them the bad news first and save the good news for after, that way you cheer them up.”

“Good news?”

Alastor leaned down and kissed the tip of Charlie’s nose. He wore a knowing grin. “Turn around,” he murmured.

Charlie slowly swiveled around and faced the parking lot.

Behind her stood well over one-hundred people, all of them smiling at her, and at the forefront of these people were her friends. She also recognized Carmilla Carmine herself, Zestial, and Sera of all people. All of these people stood and faced her, and at the front of the pack was Vaggie, who smiled wider than she ever had in her entire adult life.

“Wha-wh-what… I don’t get it,” Charlie stammered.

“We’re here to help!” Vaggie proclaimed. She lifted her hands up in the air and the rest of the people followed suit. The crowd began to cheer.

“They’re volunteers,” Angel explained. “They’re here to help build this place from the ground up, Charlie.”

She was in disbelief. She heard the words that were being said, but she couldn’t for the life of her process them. These people, these strangers, all of them… they were here to help her?

Carmilla and Zestial walked up to Charlie and Alastor. “I’m afraid we won’t be indulging in the physical aspect of this project,” Carmilla said. “We’re here to tell you that we’ve decided to fund your project, Charlie. Let’s get it rebuilt better than ever and try again, hmm?”

The Morningstar woman shrank into herself. “E-even Zestial?” she squeaked. “I didn’t offend you when I said ‘fuck’, ‘shit’, ‘bitch’ and ‘whore’ at the ball?”

Zestial chuckled. “Never a dull moment when speaking with you, Charlotte. I look forward to seeing how your vision comes to fruition. I’m willing to gamble on you.”

Charlie held onto Alastor so she wouldn’t fall over and faint. “Th-thank you, sir. And thank you, Ms. Carmine! It means the world to me.”

Carmilla guided Zestial to their waiting limo ride. “We’ll check in soon,” she said. Just like that, they were gone.

Vaggie and the rest of the group wasted no time to join up with Charlie. “So do we have the funds or what?” Husk asked.

“Yes, Husker, we have the funds,” Alastor replied.

“Where did you find all these people?” Charlie asked.

Vaggie grinned. “When they heard that we were accepting volunteers, they came out on their own accord. These people believe in your project, Charlie.”

“Where did they hear that we were accepting volunteers?”

Alastor laughed. “Why, my darling, there’s a radio show that’s on every Monday-Friday from five to six, hosted by the dapper and irresistible Radio Demon.”

Husk rolled his eyes. “Please,” he grumbled.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Al! Your show! It’s almost four, you need to head out to the station!”

Alastor grinned. “Don’t you worry about that, Charlie. Now, we have a lot of work to do. You have to direct these people, tell them what to do and how to do it, are you ready for this?”

Charlie looked at the people who surrounded her. Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Pentious, and of course, Alastor. She looked behind her shoulder at the people who awaited to hear her commands and what she had to say. She reached down and grabbed Alastor’s hand in her own. “I’m ready for this,” she smiled.

Meanwhile, across town at the Seven Rings Radio Station…

“Good evening, sinners! My name is Rosie, you probably know my voice because I’m the handy-dandy Radio Demon’s producer! I’m filling in for Alastor today because he’s busy helping out Charlie rebuild her rehabilitation center. Ah, true love! Nothing like it!” Rosie grinned and put her feet up on Alastor’s desk. If he were there to see it, he would surely tell her to get her dirty, wretched sneakers off his desk. Alastor’s exact directions were to play old shows and do re-runs, but Rosie had a few ideas of her own. Rosie settled into his office chair and made herself comfortable. “The first thing I’m going to talk about is why the fuck you people don’t use your turn signal, I almost got in a wreck on my way to coffee today. Let’s deep dive, shall we? You listeners are in for a treat! Sit back, relax, and enjoy this broadcast…”

Notes:

Y'ALL..... words cannot describe how happy I am to post this chapter and how eternally grateful I am for every comment, kudos, and click that has been for Broadcast. Before I get too sappy, let's get into some chapter notes.

Of course Charlie and Alastor had to have sex in the last chapter, I mean, Y'KNOW.... hehehe. The running prompt I had in my mind was angsty sex and I couldn't get the idea out of my head that Alastor wanted to cry yet he had to cover Charlie's eyes so she couldn't see him cry for her xD Alastor you silly, silly man lol. There's really not much for me to say about the chapter notes, hopefully this has been a satisfying conclusion to the series.

Twenty-five weeks straight of writing, updating, and keeping up with this story. I'm very humbled and very happy to say that I did it, and I wouldn't have nearly been as motivated to keep going if it wasn't for you lovely readers. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for the encouragement and comments.

I hope to post more Charlastor in the future, I just think it'll be one-shots that don't take up as much time and commitment as Broadcast. The holiday season is approaching at my job and I will have time to crank out some ideas... HEHEHEHE.

Thank you so much, dear sinners <3