Chapter Text
It had been 48 hours since Charlie and Vaggi had left for Heaven and, somehow, the hotel was still standing. After a reasonably uneventful day, Alastor had retired to his room with a drink in hand. He had spent a lot of the day out of sight, just observing the pocket-sized King.
Lucifer was... a surprisingly competent host. He was charming, managing to smooth over issues with ease and the guests seemed to find him pleasant enough to talk to.
Alastor’s face twisted into a scowl. The guests might find him pleasant, but the little monarch was a royal pain in his ass. The devil seemed to find constant jobs for him to do.
“Oh Bellhop, there’s a guest who needs fresh towels, I told them you’d bring them up.”
“Busboy! Room 120 accidentally set the bathroom on fire. Be a deer and sort it out, would you?”
“Ah, there you are Alabaster! Someone has thrown up in the lounge, and I can’t find Niffty. Be a good sport and clean it up.”
And, to make matters worse, Alastor’s shadow seemed to be avoiding him. Most of these tasks would have been much more easily accomplished if he had the extra set of hands.
Gritting his teeth, Alastor knocked back his whiskey before immediately pouring another one and lighting a cigarette. He didn’t smoke often but he needed something to take the edge off. Why, oh why had he promised Charlie he would protect her father and keep the hotel running smoothly? If he had just left the little King to his own devices and not stepped in to put out the many fires (worryingly both figuratively and not), the place would be a smouldering wreck, and Charlie would be so disappointed her dear old dad. The look on the devil's face as he faced his daughter's disappointment would be simply divine. Alas, he had made a promise, and he was not in the habit of breaking his promises.
He grumbled to himself as he sipped at his second drink. It might have been more bearable if he was still able to wind up the devil. However, it was getting harder to get under Lucifer’s skin. Whilst Alastor had reduced him to a blushing mess on a couple of occasions, these now seemed to be fewer and more far between.
Alastor frowned. Yes, his experiences were...lacking but he’d been told often enough that he was at least pleasing to the eyes. Clearly this wasn’t enough to get the duck-obsessed monarch’s attention. He thought back to the night he dragged his shadow away. Lucifer had looked so soft, so relaxed in his shadow’s presence. The devil also showed no signs of moving away when the shadow got up close and personal. The question was, why was his shadow getting so attached?
Frown deepening, Alastor thought back to when he was human. There was certainly not a lack of suitors vying for his attention then, but he had never felt a thing for any of them. He could understand beauty, of course but desire was something else entirely. He recalled his teenage years, the other boys at school talking about subjects that made him feel faintly ill rather than excited. Alastor didn’t know why he wasn’t like them, assuming that something was probably wrong with him. It didn’t sound particularly appealing to him. Sharing bodily fluids, touching, making oneself vulnerable. No, it wasn’t for him. But... if it wasn’t for him, then why was his shadow cosying up with the devil himself?
A memory flashed in his mind, of Rosie and Charlie when he had first taken the Princess to meet the Overlord. An ‘ace in the hole’ she’d called him. Charlie seemed to understand immediately. Leaving only him in the dark. Oh, how he hated not knowing things. But... he hated vulnerability more and having to ask Rosie what she meant...
He shuddered in revulsion.
However, something needed to be done. That blasted shadow needed to come to heel. Whilst the feeling of touching the devil’s wings wasn’t... hideous, it certainly wasn’t wanted. What would the damn thing have done if he hadn’t pulled it away?
Alastor sighed deeply and drained the last of his drink. It was time to squash down his pride and take a trip to Rosie’s.
The radio demon straightened his bow tie, adjusting the flowers he had brought until they looked perfect. Rosie was bound to still be fuming after he broke their contract.
Won’t hurt to try and butter her up a little.
He knocked on the door of her emporium, knowing that she would still be awake. She opened it, scowl immediately plastering itself across her face as she realised who was at her door.
“Rosie! My dear friend!” Alastor exclaimed.
Her eyes narrowed and she put a hand on her hip, tapping her foot impatiently.
Alastor swallowed, his grin wavering for a second before he held the flowers out to her, at least attempting to appear sincere.
“Ahh, you’re not still mad, are you? You knew my game the day we met, my dear...”
Rosie sighed heavily before rolling her eyes and taking the flowers, gesturing for him to come in. He followed her into the emporium whilst she snapped her fingers, immediately putting on a spread. His smile softened slightly. It didn’t matter how pissed off Rosie was, she was still the perfect host.
“Come on then, you manipulative little shit. Sit down and have some tea.”
Alastor’s grin widened, he knew she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him.
“I’m still mad at you.” His grin faltered. Or not.
“But... I have missed our little chats. I suppose I can’t be too upset with you. After all, I knew exactly what kind of soul you were.” She looked him up and down slightly disdainfully before taking a dainty sip of her tea.
Alastor bowed to her in response before sitting opposite her, accepting a cup of tea and a lady finger. She rolled her eyes again, more fondly this time.
“So, Alastor. What brings you to my door? I know you are only here because you want something.”
Alastor clutched at his invisible pearls, his eyebrows raising in fake surprise.
“Why Rosie, dearest. You know how much I adore your company.”
She raised one eyebrow, not believing him for a second.
“Mmhmm, come on, spill.”
Alastor’s grin twitched. This was going to be torturous.
“You said something... when I brought Charlie here. Something about me. You called me an ‘ace in the hole’. What does that mean?”
Rosie paused, her cup halfway to her mouth before she replaced the fragile china in its saucer. She sighed and snapped her fingers, vanishing their tea and replacing it with gin.
Ah. It’s going to be one of those talks, is it?
She pinned him with a contemplative stare. Alastor fought the urge to squirm. He was an Overlord for Hell’s sake, not a naughty schoolboy.
“Have you ever had a relationship, Alastor?” she questioned gently.
Alastor twitched, ears flicking. Gritting his teeth, he replied “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
Rosie eyed him contemplatively, before sighing again. “I tried to do this the nice way...” She said quietly before looking him dead in the eyes.
“Bluntly, it means you aren’t interested in a sexual relationship with anyone.”
Alastor coughed lightly, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. Well, I did ask...
She continued, ignoring his discomfort. “People who do not have any desire to engage in a sexual relationship are known as asexual or ace, hence ‘ace in the hole’.” Rosie paused here, seeing the blank expression across his face bloom with understanding. “I’m sorry my dear, I truly thought you must already know.”
Alastor gave up the fight with his ears, and they flattened to his head.
“So, it’s a thing, the way I am?”
Rosie felt a pang in her chest. She nodded and continued.
“There is a huge spectrum of sexuality, with no ‘one size fits all’. For example; there are asexual people who crave a simply a romantic relationship, some that derive pleasure from pleasing their partner, just as there are ace folk who are sex repulsed. For others, they need to be emotionally close to a person before any kind of romantic or sexual relationship can develop but, the important thing is, that your feelings, or lack of, are valid. There is nothing wrong with you for feeling this way.”
Alastor sat back, mind reeling with new information. Honestly, he had just assumed that he was abnormal. He was already a serial killer, what difference did it make that he didn’t want to engage in any kind of relationship. The fact that there was a word for it, that it was... normal... was mind-blowing.
Rosie watched as he mentally sorted through all that she had told him, ears still flat to his skull.
“Alastor, honey,” she said softly, interrupting his thoughts. “What has brought this on?”
He stared at her, weighing up whether or not to tell her what had been going on with his shadow. The radio demon let out a long sigh.
“It’s my shadow... it’s being disobedient. Not listening to me, not coming when I call and... the other night I found it in another's bed.”
Rosie’s eyebrows shot up and she grinned manically.
“Oh my! What gossip! Sneaky little shadow. Whose bed was it in, pray tell?”
Alastor grimaced and took a big swallow of his gin. Wincing slightly as it burned on the way down.
In for as penny, in for a pound, as they say...
“It seems it’s been sneaking off to visit Lucifer.”
Rosie clapped a hand over her mouth in shock and delight.
“Alastor! You have got your sights set high! The King? How delicious!”
Alastor spluttered, “I haven’t got my sights set on anyone! What that damn shadow does is its own business. Did we not just have a conversation about how I am decidedly not interested in others?”
Rosie leaned back in her chair with a contemplative hum. Back when Alastor was human and had struck a deal with her, she had promised him power. When he had made his way to Hell, part of that power was contained in his shadow. Which meant...
“Alastor, I am about to tell you something that you are not going to like...”
He tensed, not enjoying the direction this conversation was going in.
“In order to give you power, I needed to give you an edge. The purpose of the shadow was to aid you in your journey, give you an extra set of hands to do your work, how you would do it.” She paused. “Exactly how you would do it.”
Silence.
“Alastor, do you understand what I am saying? The shadow is just another version of you. It may be separate, but it is still you. Your thoughts and desires, free from constraints. Yes, it is controlled by you, but it is still a sentient being in its own right.”
Alastor was frozen in his chair, eyes unblinking and ever-present grin twitching at the corners.
“So,” he eventually got out “You believe that it wants Lucifer... because I do?”
Rosie grinned from ear to ear.
“Exactly!”
A screech of radio feedback filled the space, making her cringe. But then...
"Fine.”
Her smile dropped slightly, and she pinned him with a suspicious look.
“You appear to have accepted this far too easily...”
Alastor leaned back in his chair. “It is simple my dear. I want to eat him. I desire his flesh but in a much less carnal sense. My shadow is clearly projecting these desires in a sexual manner. Easily resolved.”
Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Easily resolved?”
He nodded. “Yes, I simply need my shadow to understand that it is a physical hunger rather than a metaphorical one. As soon as it realises that neither of us will feel anything wanton towards his majesty, it will stop its incessant badgering.”
“And how, pray tell, are you doing to do that?” Rosie replied, scrutinising the other demon.
“Easy my dear Rosie. I let the shadow continue its little dalliance with the King and, when it inevitably fails to become aroused, and the failed monarch then turns it away, it will understand that this is all just a misunderstanding.”
Rosie’s eyes widened. “But, Alastor that means...”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Yes, yes I may have to put up with a bit of touch to prove my point, but it’ll be over before its even begun.”
“If you say so,” she said, airily.
Alastor grinned smugly at her. “I do say so. This will all be over soon and I will be able to get back to my own goals.”
Rosie rolled her eyes.
Silly deer, he doesn’t know what he’s letting himself in for.