Chapter Text
"Dad?"
Lucifer swirled his paintbrush around a glass of water. "Come in, sweetie!"
Charlie peered through the door to Lucifer's workshop. "Do you have a moment?" She was speaking in a hushed voice, covering her phone with a hand. "I've got Carmilla Carmine on the line. She says she'd like to speak with you?"
"Uh…" Lucifer stared at his half-painted rubber duck. He sighed. "Sure." He dried his brush off on a paper towel.
Charlie stalked in and put the phone into his hands.
Lucifer smiled and mouthed a 'thank you', then leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "Yes?"
Charlie retreated with two thumbs up and shut the door behind her.
"Your Majesty." The woman's voice on the other end of the line was calm and sharp. Professional, down to business. "This is Carmilla Carmine. I hope I'm not interrupting."
Lucifer fidgeted with the rubber duck. "I can spare a couple of minutes."
"We've been awaiting your reply to our e-mail. I'm calling to ensure that our message has been received."
Oh no. Had he forgotten something? Accidentally signed some sort of insurance deal in his sleep? Or was this his therapist’s office, taking increased measures to finally reach him and drag him back into their practice?
"Who's the 'we' in question?" Lucifer asked, voice unsteady.
There was a moment of silence.
"…the overlords?"
"Ah." Lucifer relaxed. "I don’t read e-mails."
"We’ve also sent letters."
"I don't open those either. What do you want?"
"…In that case, I suppose we can do this over the phone. First of all, in the name of all overlords, I would like to formally apologize. We've been slacking off, regarding our duties toward the crown."
Lucifer stifled a sigh. They needed the Truce. Now, with Heaven at Hell's gates, more than ever. He should hold out an olive branch. "Have you? I hadn't noticed. Far as I know, the Truce remains intact, tip-top."
"I'm happy to hear that. In any case, we've increased our efforts to ensure it stays that way. There is, however… a complication."
Lucifer set down the rubber duck. "Go on."
"We cannot keep check on someone who never attends our meetings. Alastor…" She said his name emphatically. "…has repeatedly ignored our attempts to reach out to him."
"Not an issue. You don't have to worry about him."
"We overlords have intel on him that you, Your Majesty, might be interested in."
Lucifer grimaced. "Not really."
"We've attached two meeting protocols to our letters and e-mails," Carmilla said, ignoring Lucifer's disinterest, "that prove that Alastor spied on the Hazbin Hotel. And on you."
Ouch. Lucifer swallowed the hurt. "So?"
Carmilla took some time to reply. "We overlords guarantee that we're no longer interested in that kind of information. But we feel obligated to let you know that Alastor has shared the plans on the hotel's reopening with us, as well as the details of your…" She paused. "…mental state."
Lucifer fidgeted with the paint brush. He had wondered. Suspected it. He knew Alastor had changed since then, but still, Lucifer wished he'd heard it from Alastor. Not from this… bitch who was trying to drive them apart. "Look, I don't give a duck," Lucifer said. "I've got important things to do, so is that all?"
Silence ensued.
"But…" Carmilla stammered, sounding very much like a child upon hearing that Christmas was cancelled. Then she rallied. "Yes, Your Grace. May we have your phone number, so we can reach you directly in the future?"
Lucifer felt tempted to say 'no'. But unfortunately, without Lilith taking care of the overlord squabble, that responsibility now fell to him. And making them reach him through Charlie every time wasn't fair toward her. He sighed and summoned another phone. "Fine." He dictated the number of his new work phone. "Don't pass it on."
"Your number is safe with me, Your Majesty."
"Great. Have a helluva day."
"You, too."
Lucifer hung up and exhaled noisily. Politics. Urgh. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
The door creaked.
Lucifer looked up and saw Alastor approach. He was holding a steaming mug in one hand, and a slice of pie with whipped cream in the other.
"Who was that?" Alastor set the mug down on Lucifer's coaster and carefully placed the plate next to it.
Lucifer waved him off with a half-hearted smile. "Oh, nobody important." He took the mug. "Ooh, hot chocolate? Amazing!" He took a sip. The beverage was so sweet and chocolaty it was a miracle it was a liquid. "Yummy! Thanks, Al." He set the mug down and picked his brush back up to dip it into the paint.
Alastor was still there, casting a shadow over Lucifer's workstation.
Lucifer looked back up. "Um… something up?"
Alastor pushed the filled plate a little closer to Lucifer's hand. He was radiating worry over the radio waves, his static atmosphere fizzling and stuttering.
Lucifer raised a brow, but amusement tugged at a corner of his mouth. He picked up the fork and took a bite of the bribery pie. "Mmmh, delicious," he said with his mouth full. "Will you tell me now?"
Alastor took a deep breath. "I've been meaning to confess something."
Lucifer smiled, and the tension left his body. "Hush. I know."
-----
"Hey, Al," Lucifer whispered.
Alastor's ear gave an irritated flick.
"Come on, wakey wakey!" Lucifer prodded him.
"Hm?" Alastor pried an eye open. "What's wrong?"
Lucifer's face was a dark silhouette against the starry sky, and his eyes were wide, sparkling saucers.
"It's the middle of the night," Alastor murmured.
"Not in New Orleans, it's not," Lucifer sing-songed.
Alastor bolted upright. He stared at Lucifer, who sat on the edge of the mattress, fully dressed and sporting a knitted hat, white with a red bobble, as though ready to head out. Lucifer lifted two pairs of ice skates. "Skates of sure footing to accommodate your hooves." He preened. "Enchanted them myself."
"New Orleans doesn't get frost," Alastor said slowly, not entirely sure if he was reading the room right.
Lucifer smirked. "They do have ice rinks."
Within seconds, Alastor had jumped out of bed and magicked his clothes onto his body. But suddenly, he felt very aware of his ears and claws. "I can't go up there like this." His ears lowered. "I look ridiculous."
"You!" Lucifer dropped the skates and grabbed Alastor's head with both hands. "Look gorgeous." He swooped in for a kiss that swept Alastor off his hooves. When he pulled back, his smile was wide and sunny. "But I'll give you a human disguise to make you look less deer-monic, haha!" He pointed finger guns at Alastor and winked.
Before Alastor could complain about the awful pun, or the wink, or the finger guns, Lucifer grabbed Alastor's hand and brandished his cane. "Ready?" He looked so happy, and so alive.
Alastor mirrored his smile and gave his hand a squeeze. "Always."