A Midsummer Night's Dream in Hell

by HyourinmaruIce

Summary:

When Alastor sees that Rosie and Lucifer are becoming closer than ever, he decides it's his duty as her best friend to stop her from making a terrible mistake.

Unfortunately, he makes the mistake of going to Charlie for advice.

Notes:

Merry Christmas!

Just the first chapter as a holiday treat. Everything is written, just being edited and polished.

Friend said "It lives up to it's namesake" so do with that what you will *winks*

Chapter 1: Alastor's No Good Very Bad Day

Alastor was getting used to the ebb-and-flow of the hotel. He woke up at 4:30 so he could start his morning broadcast at 5. He delighted the airwaves with his show, informed people about traffic, allowed callers to give gruesome and horrific stories, and then he called it at 7. Two hours was almost too much for the people, they couldn’t handle him for longer.

 

Husk got up then to have some peace and quiet at the bar before anyone else was alive to cause a ruckus. Alastor could hardly blame the man given Angel Dust’s tendency to bounce into the hotel lobby with so much energy the walls would surely shake if they were not angelically reinforced. Charlie’s singing is almost as obnoxious. At least Vaggie is quiet. 

 

It’s 7 now. 

 

His broadcast ends and he hovers over the power button. It’s going to be a long day. 

 

When he flicks the power off, he turns in his chair and stares out at the city. Lucifer had been generous with his window. It was large, magically cleaned every day to ensure it never blocked his view, and showed almost the entire city. From here, he could even see Rosie’s Emporium. 

 

He stands, slowly, with a sigh and leaves his microphone leaning against the desk. This -- This is going to be a very, very long day. The sound of his footsteps is the only thing in his studio. He almost wishes he had left his equipment on to add some background noise and blot out his thoughts.

 

Alastor resists twitching, it’s unbecoming for a man of his abilities, but he can’t help it when he thinks of where Charlie is dragging him today. A fitting for hotel uniforms the day after Rosie came back from her vacation. 

 

In some ways, he’s glad Rosie is still herself. A fitting the day after means that Rosie already has designs and mockups done. She was given a hint ahead of time that this would happen and had likely moved quite quickly to get things done before she left for Gluttony. The opportunist in her would never let a chance like this slide by. Uniforms for the Princess of Hell? Perfect advertising.

 

But she’s not quite herself. There is something about her that didn’t fit right, didn’t look right, didn’t feel right when she’d stepped through the portal into the hotel. Perhaps it was the touch of melancholy in her eyes, or the way she tensed when Charlie approached, or even the way she averted her eyes from him as if worried he would see something he shouldn’t. 

 

He knows Rosie. 

 

He knows her and he’s trying to be a better friend. He owes her. And his recent stint with death leaves him chomping at the bit to settle his debts to her.

 

7:10. 

 

Husk is awake now. Rosie’s old friend. Not that he knows her now, especially as they’ve both changed since the hey-day of their friendship. He’s useless then. 

 

No one else to talk to then. He’s not talking to Lucifer; he’d rather eat his repaired microphone. He’d rather chop off his antlers and hand them over to Rosie (seeing as she threatens to remove them every time he gets on her nerves). Talk to Lucifer? Hah. Over. His. Dead. Body.

 

With a nod, he swiftly turns on a ball of his foot and marches by his desk to grab his microphone and leave the studio. He’ll just have to talk to Rosie directly tomorrow. Today, she’ll rip him apart if he tries to do secondary business during a fitting. 

 

Or. 

 

Placing a hand on the railing of the stairs as he descends into his room, a devious thought comes into his mind. While Rosie had friends, certainly more than he did, there was one friend that knew her as well as he did. Who had been in Rosie’s life as long as he has. 

 

Someone who ran the Emporium and would be there even when Rosie wasn’t.

 

He could almost imagine the lights flicking on in the Emporium as Dany went around her morning routine. Turn on the sub-lights, open the shutters, open a few windows to air out the place, and then off she went to the back to catalogue who was coming and what outfits needed adjusting for the day. 

 

She unlocked the door at 7:30 on the dot every day. She locked it behind her, afterall they needed time to set up and get things running, but he was so used to her morning routine that he knew exactly when to show up at the backdoor. She would toss out any trash she missed the previous day at 7:50. Rosie would show up 10 minutes later. 

 

10 minutes with Dany? Might be all he needs.

 

///

 

“I don’t know anything about the fitting today.” Dany says as soon as she opens the back door and throws the trash into the large dumpster. “Yes, I see your shadow.”

 

Alastor appears and tilts forward with a grin. “Have you seen Rosie?”

 

The twitch means ‘yes’. He knows Dany now too. He waits with his microphone tucked behind his back. It only takes a minute before she groans and puts a hand on her hip. “Yes. I saw her yesterday. She came by to thank me for taking care of everything and, yes, she seemed off. Is that what you wanted to hear? You know I’m busy, Al.”

 

“Oh, do tell me more about how she seemed off. I am dying to hear it.” He shadowed himself into the doorway so she couldn’t escape. Dany is very wily when she wants to be, and he’s not about to have this conversation put off. He needs to know what he’s walking into today. He needs to know how to-- Is that what he wants? To help a friend? 

 

Sins below, what is Rosie doing to him?

 

“Al.” Dany growls and now both hands are on her hips. Ooo, things are getting serious. He keeps his smile sharp. “I have things to do. Rosie will be here soon and I need to pull the outfits.”

 

He hums.

 

“You are a bastard.” With a huff, Dany crosses her arms and taps a foot. “She seemed sad. Like she didn’t want to be back. Which, I suppose, makes sense since she had a good vacation. She’ll be fine today, I’m sure. Anything else you want to know?”

 

He taps his foot to the beat Dany’s creating and tilts his head. “I was hoping for something else.”

 

“Perhaps something about falling out of love?” With a snort, she tries to get around him and he simply steps to block her path. It’s a shame he’s not quite big enough to block the entirety of the Emporium doors. “She’s still definitely in love. I mentioned Lucifer and her eyes lit up like Extermination Da--” When she pauses, Alastor feels a touch of vindication. He knew there was more. 

 

“Yes?” He draws out the yes and leans more into Dany’s space. “And?”

 

“Huh.” Dany stops moving long enough to look down at her feet and mutter something. “Anyway, I have things to do. Move aside, please.”

 

What? “Absolutely not. You just had an idea.” Alastor uses his cane to cover what he doesn’t of the doorway. The conversation can’t continue though. His time is cut short. It is with great frustration that he sees Rosie walking down the path to her house early. She’s got a skip in her step and she’s singing. “Or perhaps you’re right.”

 

Dany turns and whistles. “I haven’t heard her sing without prompting in ages. It’s good to see her happy.”

 

While he’s distracted, Dany bats his microphone out of her way and slips inside the Emporium. 

 

He shadows back to the hotel before Rosie can see him. She can’t know what he’s doing or she’ll tell him to stay out of her business. Better to seek forgiveness than ask permission.

 

///

 

Charlie’s frenetic energy is getting on his nerves. She’s like a gnat, her words a mess of nothing more than garbled buzzing that annoys the ear and grates on the nerves, and her incessant movement is staggering. Where does she get the energy? Alastor knows she went to bed near midnight. 

 

“Babe. Why don’t we just let the professional handle it?” Vaggie tries to put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder but Charlie is already by her uniform idea board. Which was a mess. Alastor has been around Rosie long enough to know the whole board should be thrown out and burned. “Rosie knows what she’s doing.”

 

“But I’m going to be trying things on! I have to know what I like and what fits and what colors look good on me and the rest of the hotel and--” Charlie takes a deep breath and in that moment Lucifer appears with a poof of gold and red glitter.

 

He looks happy. 

 

Alastor dislikes it. 

 

“Did you say we’re going to Rosie’s?” He bounces on the balls of his feet, glowing and golden and everything happy, and Alastor feels a twitch in his smile. Lucifer should be kept away from Rosie. At least until the descent into love-sick madness is stopped. 

 

“Your use of the word ‘We’ is fascinating.” Alastor walks closer to Charlie and then lightly wraps a hand around her shoulders. “Charlie and I are going to work on the new hotel uniforms. I do believe you are expected to stay here. After all, the King of Hell surely has other things to do.”

 

Lucifer puts a finger to his chin, looks to the ceiling, and then lets out a large, “Nope!” He puts his hands on his hips and Alastor notices that his vest is burgundy instead of its usual pink. Alastor does not like that. “I just spent 8 weeks getting all my work done! I’m free if you want some help, Charlie.”

 

Addressing Charlie to get around Alastor is clever. Alastor will give him that.

 

Charlie gasps and holds her hands under her chin. “I loved playing dress up with you! And if you’re trying on the clothes, then I can get a better look at them! It’s perfect.” She skips over and squeezes her dad into a hug and then picks him up to spin him around. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 

Lucifer wheezes. “Tight grip there, Char.” When Charlie puts him down Lucifer continues. “Portal or walking?”

 

///

Rosie’s is bustling. Rosie’s is always busy, she has built it up as a center of commerce and trade in the entire Pentagram and perhaps even Pride at this point, and a bit of that pride sits in Alastor’s chest. She’s done well for herself over the years, and the line at her counter is almost out the door. 

 

The pride in his chest vanishes when Lucifer waves with his whole arm and Rosie gives a delighted wave back. Damn them. 

 

Dany is no help. She could at least elbow the woman. Instead she just continues checking out customers and ignoring the heinous display of an adult woman waving with her whole arm in front of a crowded room of people. Really. What is the world coming to?

 

Rosie taps her hat to tell Alastor to bring his guests to the back. 

 

Alastor internally huffs, but externally he taps a foot, hovers a hand near the small of Charlie’s back, and walks forward. Lucifer bounces towards the back room, happy and content to run ahead of the group, and Charlie whispers in Alastor’s direction. “Is it me or do they seem like maybe more than friends?”

 

Is she just noticing? Dear Sins. At least the trip to the fitting room is short and Alastor doesn’t have to hear her theories. Rosie’s voice penetrates the door, her laughter putting him on edge. That’s her true laughter. The kind reserved for late nights hunting or being drunk on the couch. The kind Alastor didn’t hear until he was her friend for two decades. It’s a bad sign. A very bad sign.

 

“You know Al’s going to want red.” Is the first thing Alastor hears after that laugh and it makes him despise Lucifer deeply. Lucifer had caused that laugh. Somehow.

 

“As if your daughter won’t also want red.” Rosie snorts and Alastor pulls away from Charlie to step deeper into the room. “Am I wrong, Charlie?”

 

“Haha.” Charlie fiddles with her cuffs. “I mean. I like red. But if you think another color would work--”

 

“We want red.” Alastor glares at Lucifer. If he hadn’t said anything, Charlie wouldn’t have even questioned the red. Now, Rosie can get away with showing them blue. Disgusting. If he ever sees that horrid color in the hotel, he will tear up Lucifer’s pink roses. 

 

He and Rosie make eye contact. He sees the mirth, the mischievous sparkle, and he raises an eyebrow in response. She waves a hand and laughs (the professional kind without any hint of personality to it) for the room to hear. “Alright, let me go get some pieces for ya to try. Just get up on the pedestal. Though I’m surprised you brought Alastor!” 

 

As Rosie goes to leave, Charlie asks, “Why wouldn’t I have brought Alastor?”

 

Rosie’s spine stiffens, just a touch, just the amount it should because Charlie should know what kind of fitting she’s walking into. She clears her throat as she turns to speak directly to Charlie. “Because this isn’t a normal fitting, Sweetheart.” 

 

There’s that look in Rosie’s eye. The look that questions why no one has ever taught Charlie anything. The look that Alastor knows he gives too. “You’re trying on different styles. It’s less a fitting and more a ‘what’s this look like on a body’ sort of thing. You’ll be getting in and out of clothes quite a bit so you’ll stay in your undergarments and Alastor here is-- Well.” Rosie moves to the doorway that heads deeper into Emporium storage. When she reaches it, she turns, tilts her head, and makes eye contact with Alastor. She arches her brow and hums. “Nevermind I understand why you brought him.”

 

She’s gone before anyone can say anything else. Rosie is, if anything, a professional who keeps things moving. It’s one of her strengths. Alastor has been to these sorts of fittings before, and Rosie knew that, so he spins on a heel and nods in Charlie’s direction. 

 

Charlie gives an awkward laugh. “It’s a good thing we brought my dad then!” She clears her throat. “Dad?”

 

“I’ve been to these sorts of things before, Char Char!” He takes off his hat and spins it into non-existence. “How boob am I boobing?”

 

What did he just say? Alastor struggles to process as Lucifer shrugs off his jacket, Charlie puts her face in her hands. “Dad.”

 

“It’s a good question!” Lucifer scoffs and starts to unbutton his vest. Alastor knew this was coming, but he’s not going to watch. Gracious, no. He averts his eyes like a gentleman should. “If we think of all the people at the hotel, I’m thinkin’ the average is an A? Maybe? But Angel has the fluff and new hires might be larger and we want them to have proper back support.”

 

“Back support?” Charlie mutters, but Lucifer is on a roll and hearing Charlie ask about back support is, apparently, enough to send him careening. 

 

“Yes! I know you’re small Char, but other people need proper support. Back aches are quite common with larger breasts. Your mother hated not wearing her corset unless she was relaxing at home. She didn’t have terrible back pain to begin with, but many sinners deal with odd bodies and odder boobs.”

 

Alastor doesn’t know what’s happening since he’s still looking at the ceiling, but he hears Charlie mutter something about getting the point. 

 

“Alrighty. When’s Rosie coming back?” Lucifer seems to have concluded his rant, and he clearly has finished getting undressed, so Alastor relaxes and looks back at the people he’s having a--

 

No.

 

Absolutely not. 

 

Alastor’s hands clench around his microphone as his jaw pops from the amount of tension going into maintaining his smile. This. Is. Bad. Lucifer being partially undressed (mostly undressed) was one thing. 

 

Lucifer being mostly undressed and fully feminine is another. 

 

Fully feminine with long hair that’s been put up in a bun and in only a red sports bra and a pair of red women’s briefs (and he-- she called out Alastor for wearing red). 

 

Alastor can handle that. He is a man of repute and he’s spent enough time in Mimzy’s dress rooms that a woman with little clothing is of little novelty. He’s helped show-girls and actresses get dressed. He’s helped Rosie get dressed.

 

It’s Rosie he’s worried about. 

 

But Rosie is a professional. Right. She’ll be fine. She’s seen nudity in all shapes and forms on all people and sinners. She’s fine. She’ll be fine. She’s a professional. And Lucifer isn’t even that attractive. Rosie will be fine. 

 

She’ll be fine.

 

He hears her heels. She’s coming back. She’s coming and she’ll be fine.

 

She’s humming Sweet Adeline. He can hear the bounce in her step, the joy in her hum the mirth in her heart the vibrancy of her being -- and then she steps into the doorway. She’s still looking at the clothes on her left arm. “So, I know these two will be a lovely fit. Dany is going to push the rack in here so we can try on more, but I tho--”

 

She looks up and sees Lucifer. Lucifer does not see Rosie, she’s distracted by Charlie (who is asking about when to worry about back support). But Rosie has definitely seen Lucifer. 

 

Rosie is a professional. She’ll be-- She’s not fine. She drops the clothes. Rosie never drops the clothes. Her breath is coming fast, her eyes have gone wide, and she makes eye contact with Alastor for a brief moment. 

 

Panic. Rosie doesn’t panic. She’s not someone who panics. She’s someone who takes charge. She’s good under pressure. But it’s there. In her eyes. The mirth is gone, erased in a single moment, and Rosie turns and runs. 

 

Rosie doesn’t run. She hates running. She’s wearing heels today. She doesn’t run in heels. Running from cops and mafia and other assorted goons they’d beaten over the years were necessities, and after their first run-in she wore boots. She now always wears boots when going out for a hunt. She refuses to run in heels.

 

“Rosie may have gotten lost in her back rooms!” Alastor turns to Charlie and slaps the back of his shoes together. Like an idiot. “I shall go fetch her.”

 

“That’s not necessary, Al. I’m sure she’ll be right out.” Lucifer’s voice is soft and round and slightly higher in pitch. Bad. Bad. Bad. Alastor clears his throat and leaves anyway. 

 

He steps over the clothes in the doorway and looks towards each end of the hall. If he knows Rosie, she’ll go to her office. It locks and only Dany has a spare key. With the Emporium having been his home once, he knows it almost as well as he knows Rosie’s home. He goes left.

 

Her office is past long-term dress storage but before long-term suit storage. It used to be a generic store room, but after her old office got too small and Dany needed an office herself, it was transformed into what it is today. He stops in front of the door and sucks in a breath. 

 

Rosie. Is his friend. He owes her. 

 

He checks the door handle and finds it opens easily. She’d forgotten to lock the door. Rosie doesn’t forget to lock doors. 

 

He swings it open slowly, giving Rosie time to realize there’s someone coming in (so she doesn’t kill him just because she’s startled). She doesn’t hear the door. She’s pacing across the office as she wrings her hands and mutters to herself. Her hair is frayed like she’s attempted to run fingers through it, but she has so many pins to keep it in place for a long day at work that it’s turned into a frazzled mess. The whole thing will have to be undone and redone for it to look halfway decent again.

 

Bad. Bad. Bad.

 

“You’re an idiot.” Rosie’s mutters are at a volume that anyone could hear. “You didn’t think she would bring her father? What were you thinking? Why didn’t you just ask this morning over breakfast you absolu--”

 

“Rosie.”

 

“Alastor!” She spins on a foot and then starts to tilt and lose her balance so she pinwheels and gives a brief yelp before managing to get her footing. Bad. Bad. Bad. “When did you get here?”

 

He sighs. Only she gets to see him relax to the point of a small smile. Only she gets to see his shoulders drop and his microphone get set aside. “Rosie, old girl, you seem quite distressed.”

 

She twitches. “I’m fine.”

 

“Your hair.” 

 

She twitches again. “It’s fine.”

 

“Your hands.”

 

“Fine!” She throws her hands up and starts pacing again. “I’m not fine. What do you want me to say?” Rosie can be quite fast when she wants to be, and he has a feeling she would be setting the carpet on fire with her quick strides if she had that capability. “Do you want details? Do you want to hear about the image that popped into my head when I saw Lucifer in a bra and nothing else? How I want to pin her to my bed? How --” 

 

The strangled nose that comes from Rosie is followed by her stopping her pacing to lean against her desk and press a hand to her heart. She’s staring at some point on the wall. “We’re in Pride. Alastor. Pride.”

 

“We do live in Pride, that is true.” Alastor makes his way over and leans against the desk with her. He crosses his arms and stares at the same spot. “That is part of being a sinner. Even if your rather exciting vacation took you far away, you were always going to come back, Rosie.”

 

He can be soft for one moment. He owes her. He can be a better friend. He doesn’t like it. 

 

“But if we’re in Pride, it’s real.” Rosie leans against him, her shoulder touching his. “I -- She’s gorgeous.”

 

Alastor categorically disagrees, but he disagrees with Rosie’s choice of partner on the regular. “My dear, you have the worst choice in women.”

 

She snorts and bumps him hard with her shoulder. “It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t share a bed.”

 

Something in his head breaks. The sound of shattering glass comes from inside his head. Crunching metal. Explosions in the distance. All of it is his brain turning into Doomsday. “What?”

 

“Fuck. We’re in Pride.” She stands and steps into the middle of the room to look around her office. “I’m in my office. Lucifer is in my dressing room with her daughter.”

 

“A bed?” Alastor stares at Rosie’s face and tries to see through her eyes to her thought process. The bustling train station that makes up her various plans and experiences is just as wrecked as his own head. “Rosie, dear, did you say you shared a bed?”

 

Rosie waves a hand. “It was a vacation and Ozzie only had one bed available.” As if that makes it better. “That doesn’t matter because we’re in PRIDE!” Rosie summons her ottoman and sits on it to stare at him. “That means it was all real. It wasn’t a dream.”

 

“Why would your vacation have been a dream?” Alastor is almost offended. He worked very hard to ensure she got that vacation. “You are talking nonsense. Your head has turned to absolute mush.”

 

With a sigh he moves to be behind her and starts to undo her pins. He’s done this before. He can do it quickly so they can get back to the waiting Morningstars. 

 

“My head’s been mush since Gluttony.” Rosie mutters. “Did you see her eyes? They sparkle.”

 

“I’m sure they do.” Alastor is not used to Rosie being so open about her attraction to women. Perhaps she was getting better about acknowledging those parts of herself. That would make him right for once, and he did enjoy getting one over on Rosie when it came to relationships. It was a very rare occurrence. 

 

“And she has such a pretty smile.” 

 

“You would appreciate a nice smile.” He’s almost through all her pins. 

 

“And her skin looks so soft. I bet she’s delicious.”

 

“She is an angel.” Once all the pins are out, Alastor summons Rosie’s hairbrush from her bedroom and starts to work out the frizz Rosie created. He hums as he gets the worst of it out.

 

“Oh, she’s just the right size. I could pick her up. I could put her on my kitchen counter.”

 

“I don’t know what your kitchen has to do with Lucifer.” He finishes brushing her hair and puts it up into her customary bun. 

 

“The kitchen counter is just the right height. It’s perfect.” Rosie almost sounds offended.

 

He just hums in response and starts to put her pins back in.

 

“And she’s a cannibal.”

 

“Lucifer is not a cannibal.” Maybe that’s why she thought her vacation was a dream. She was mixing dreams with reality. Her hair is done and he pats her on top of her head to tell her so. “Come dear, you have guests. It’s quite rude to leave them like this.”

 

When she’s standing and her ottoman disappears, she puts her hands on her hips and looks at him. Really looks at him in a way he’s only ever seen when she’s deciding if she should tell him something. When she’s deciding if she knows him, trusts him, and usually the answer is yes. 

 

Today it’s not. 

 

She is quiet when she speaks with a nod. Rosie is not typically quiet. She’s full of life in a way that’s refreshing. “You’re quite right. Where are my manners? Truly, I am not myself today.”

 

He doesn’t like it. “Perhaps more clothing would be useful? To help your delicate sensibilities?”

 

Rosie scowls at him and he smiles sharp and dangerous in return. If she wants to be so sensitive as to have to RUN from the sight of an attractive woman, he is fully in his right to poke. She’s poked him enough for a death-time. And it brings out some life in her.

 

“Watch your antlers, young man.” She takes one step towards him and he jumps away to grab his microphone. 

 

“I shall tell Lucifer to put a shirt on.” Alastor waits for her to groan as a sign that he is fully correct in his assumption.  When he’s in the doorway, he pauses. “I’m sure Danyella can do the fitting as well.”

 

“I can handle a beautiful woman.” Rosie mutters and he slips out the door before she can threaten his antlers again. He does not think she can handle a beautiful woman. She can barely handle a mildly attractive woman. 

 

As he heads down the hallway he comes to a decision. Lucifer is not good for Rosie. She’s forgetting herself. She’s panicking. It’s not Rosie and it’s not his friend. He knows Rosie like he knows himself. She can’t fall in love with the King of Hell and that’s that. 

 

He has to separate them. He has to. 

 

Charlie and Lucifer are waiting when he arrives. Lucifer raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “When you said you were going to get Rosie, I figured you’d come back with Rosie.”

 

The clothes that had been on the floor are gone. A rack with various outfits has been rolled into the room and the two outfits that had been on the floor are on hangers with the rest. Dany works quickly. 

 

Alastor is a good liar. He’s always been a good liar. He prefers manipulation, but he can lie just as easily. “She realized she couldn’t find an outfit and is searching long-term storage for it.”

 

Lucifer nods. She would know about long-term storage. Alastor sends his shadow to tell Rosie to come back with something from long-term storage, she learned sign language at some point so it will be fine, and then looks Lucifer up and down. “Will you be staying like that the whole fitting?”

 

“Yes?” Lucifer looks down at her body and then back up at Alastor. “Kinda how fittings go.”

 

Alastor makes a face of disgust. “Heavens no. Put a shirt on. A woman of any caliber should have a bit of decency.”

 

With a bland look, Lucifer snaps and is in a red t-shirt. “Really, Al? That’s where you draw the line?”

 

“I have standards.”

 

///

 

The fitting goes much smoother now that Lucifer has a shirt on. She laughs with Rosie, even if Rosie has a mild blush the entire time (really, Alastor just doesn’t understand), and doesn’t pick up on the fact that Rosie’s eyes occasionally fall not on her face. Rosie is subtle enough. 

 

Outfit after outfit. Charlie dislikes most of them. Alastor dislikes others. Red and gold. Red and blue. Red and green (disgusting and Rosie laughs with so much life in her that Alastor was tempted to say yes). Red and Red. Shoulder pads or no shoulder pads. Embroidered edges or plain. The number of buttons changed, the type of cut changed, the pants changed, everything everything everything over and over changing constantly and rapidly.

 

After a few hours of Charlie and Alastor struggling to agree on what looked good, Alastor blames Charlie for her horrible sense of fashion, Rosie stops bringing outfits and looks between them with a calculating eye.

 

“One moment.” She grabs Lucifer’s hand and yanks her out of the room. Lucifer, the idiot, waves with a grin and lets herself be pulled away while still half naked. 

 

“Al, you’re too picky.” Charlie turns on HIM. As if she wasn’t the one who said no to everything he said yes to. “The red and gold was nice.”

 

He scoffs. “You liked the shoulder pads. That is over the top at best and heinous at worst. Do not pretend like they didn’t look befitting the palace instead of the hotel.”

 

“And the embroidery wasn’t over the top?” Charlie taps a foot and looks so much like her father in that moment that Alastor almost screams. 

 

“It was classy.” It highlighted that work and craftsmanship is important to the hotel. 

 

“It was--”

 

Lucifer and Rosie come back to the room. Rosie is whispering something in Lucifer’s ear that Alastor can’t hear, but he doubts it matters. Lucifer is wearing the perfect outfit. Black and gold with red accents. No shoulder pads, but enough structure to look professional. A classic vest. A classic jacket. Simple but sophisticated.

 

“Yes.” Alastor and Charlie say at the same time. They exchange a glance.

 

Alastor continues. “And where were you hiding this outfit? Surely you could have offered it from the very beginning.”

 

Rosie puts an arm over Lucifer’s shoulders. It’s possessive. It’s something Alastor doesn’t like. “I just needed some help to find it.”

 

Lucifer preens under Rosie’s attention. Alastor doesn’t like it at all.

Chapter 2: Love is in the Air

Summary:

Alastor goes to Charlie for Advice.

Notes:

YehaW!

I'll be posting regularly now.
I hope you enjoy. This one was a bitch to write because of all the balancing and careful planning to ensure every character was where I needed them.

*flops*

Charlie didn’t know what she expected upon her dad coming back from his business trip. Certainly, she hadn’t expected him to come back WITH Rosie (even if a part of her knew that Rosie staying out longer than planned meant they would come back together), and she hadn’t expected the flood of new residents who all kept asking if the King was available.  

 

Now. Charlie would like to think she can take advantage of an opportunity. 

 

Those residents ARE allowed to stay and are encouraged to do so because she needs more people at the hotel. She really does. The hotel having more people means she can do more programs, get more eyes on the hotel in general, and maybe, just MAYBE, Heaven will see the hotel flourishing and will say, “Yes, Charlie. We see how hard you are working and we agree that there is GREAT potential here.”

 

Does Charlie believe that will actually happen? No. She is not an idiot, and if Adam was any indication, Heaven was not the nice paradise they portrayed themselves to be. It was even starting to look like her Dad MIGHT have had some idea of what was going on and had been slightly right about avoiding them. Not that she would ever tell him or anyone else that. She had a front to keep up. If people saw Charlie waver, wouldn’t they waver too?

 

No, Charlie had to keep everything together.

 

She would take on the new residents and teach them how to be good people.

She would firmly ignore her Dad being asked questions about sex (and occasionally Rosie? For some reason?) 

She would keep Vaggie in the loop because they promised to be better about communication. 

 

And she would do it all with a smile. Alastor did that and he managed to almost beat Adam! It had to be a good idea. 

 

The newest resident was a blue-crested lizard/salamander hybrid that also sort of looked like a shark mixed with a bird. Somehow? They were a sinner and their name was Hydrax and they kept asking her if Rosie would eat them. Specifically, if she would eat a sinner who offered themselves up to be eaten. 

 

The answer they did NOT want to hear was: Yes! Rosie will give the body over to her butcher and distribute the meat throughout Cannibal Town. Of course, any sinner that offered themselves up in such a manner would NOT be eaten by Rosie personally because Rosie only buys from one person (a butcher Charlie does NOT know the name of but Alastor swears by). Rosie would not go to any other person and she would not waste the time of the busiest butcher in town with the body of someone who did not personally offend her. No, any sinner who walked into Cannibal Town to be eaten would get eaten, but never by Rosie.

 

If Charlie said that, and she had tried on an occasion or two, then Hydrax (or anyone who was trying to get eaten) would get mad, cry, or do both. Therefore, Charlie does NOT say that. No. Instead, she says, “Well. I can’t guarantee or know the Cannibal Town Overlord’s business. Have you considered asking her yourself?”

 

The cowar-- The lovely residents would, of course, laugh and say no. It’s fine. Usually.

 

Hydrax was alone in not saying everything is fine. Instead, Hydrax says, “Fuck off with that bullshit. Your dad is fucking her and we all know it, and I want in on that action. You know if she’ll eat me, so would she eat me if I offered myself up on a silver platter or not?”

 

Instead of having to answer in her usual manner (No, I’m very sorry), Hydrax has several black tentacles pierce through their sternum and stomach, makes a noise like a burning sinner being plowed into by a tow truck, and is tossed away in a glorious arc that manages to land them right in the nearest trash can. Alastor’s aim is getting better. That’s nice. Silver lining to killing a resident. Could be worse. Could have killed them personally.

 

“Charlie!” Alastor’s tinny voice is something Charlie knows by now. It swoops high when he wants something and goes low when he’s trying to be menacing. Or is just being judgemental, so Charlie hears his lower tones quite a bit. Right now, it’s going high with a little curl on the end of her name that makes her smile. He’s coming to her because he wants something, and isn’t it nice to be thought of? 

 

Charlie smiles in his direction and tries very hard not to react to him. He… huh. It’s odd, really, that he almost looks… anxious? It can’t be that. Alastor is not an anxious person.

 

His hair is ruffled, his microphone is held in front of him like some sort of shield, and his smile has a touch of tightness to its corners. He’s always smiling, of course, so it’s not unusual to see different expressions THROUGH his smile. His brow is even slightly pinched and there’s a small aura of stress that Charlie feels in the radio static around them. It seems like anxiety. Maybe. 

 

Anxiety and Charlie are not strangers, not in the slightest, because she sees it in her dad. The more he’s around, the more she sees the anxiety in his smiles and twitches. But Alastor is not an anxious person. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen Alastor be anxious. 

 

Not like her dad (and not like Charlie).

 

“Charlie, dear, what could possibly be going on in that head of yours?” Alastor laughs, then he twirls his microphone and tucks it behind his back. “You haven’t even said hello to your favorite hotelier.”

 

He’s her only hotelier. 

 

“Hi, Al!” Charlie chuckles because he’s right. She was lost in her own head, and she’s been like that all morning. Ever since she had come downstairs and found her dad humming and happy. He hated going through the rings and he had warned her that he would come back stressed and unhappy. He knew himself. She thought he did anyway. “Did you need something?”

 

“Me?” Alastor scoffs, but his ears twitch and Charlie hides the bit of pride she has at recognizing Alastor’s reactions. “Need something? If I needed anything, I would simply do something about it myself. No, no. I need nothing.” There’s a pause that lasts for a few seconds before he continues. “YOU have a hotel resident with a problem that I, perhaps, do not have an answer to.”

 

Charlie resists narrowing her eyes. There are a few things wrong with what Alastor just said. The first being that he admitted to not knowing something. That is very unAlastor. The second being that he is asking something for a hotel resident. He typically kills them before helping them. It’s suspicious. 

 

She clears her throat and offers what she hopes is a convincing, “Oh?”

 

“Yes, indeed.” Alastor nods. “I just knew you were the gal for the job. After all! Who knows love more than the product of a failed marriage and a deadbeat father?” Ah, Charlie had been worried for a moment there that he was going to say something nice. Phew. That was much more like the Alastor she knew. “Do you have a moment?”

 

“Of course!” Charlie diverts her thoughts away from the unpleasantness that was this morning and gives Alastor her full attention. “What did this … resident… need?”

 

He tenses, a slight narrowing of his eyes telling her she probably should have said that with more confidence, before he relaxes into his normal lackadaisical expression. “They were rather curious about how to fall out of love. You know how awful love can be. Why! You were horribly injured by Miss Vagatha yourself. The whining and the sheer magnitude in which it takes over a person’s life is distasteful. Plus the public displays of affection are… eugh. No, no. They are quite determined to get rid of the growing nuisance.” 

 

For a moment, Alastor looks… upset. Upset and angry with someone that isn’t Charlie. He takes a breath and his emotions are smoothed away with a flourish of his free hand. “So, Charlie. How might this resident of ours solve their little problem? How might they fall out of love?”

 

Charlie feels like her brain is frozen but she can’t unfreeze it because then it will melt and pour out her ears. Did-- Alastor? Alastor just asked-- No, he asked for a resident. But. He doesn’t HELP residents. He had to be asking for himself. He just asked Charlie how to fall out of love. He asked-- Alastor? Asked? How to fall out of love? He asked her, Charlie Morningstar, how to fall out of love? She’s dreaming. She’s giddy and excited and when she opens her mouth, her brain takes a moment to remind her of his question. 

 

Fall OUT of love?

 

She snaps her mouth shut. She needs more information. 

 

“Oh. Hmm.” She needs to get to the bottom of this. Who? How? When? Where? “Love is very person dependent you know. Do you know what sort of love they’re dealing with? How in love are they?”

 

If Alastor was on his A-game, he would instantly have noticed that Charlie did not respond with her usual energy. If that isn’t a sign that he’s the one being distracted, Charlie doesn’t know what is. 

 

“A--” Alastor almost growls. “A certain someone has wiggled their way too close. They are a distraction.” He probably doesn’t realize that he has pulled his microphone from behind his back with a near snarl. Charlie does not mention it. “As you know” -- He clears his throat and relaxes. -- “Distractions are quite deadly in Hell. Perhaps you may have some advice on how to… separate. Oneself without killing the maggot that writhes and wriggles closer. Death doesn’t seem to work on this one.” Alastor mutters something under his breath that he definitely did not intend Charlie to hear. “I tried already.”

 

The momentary lapse in Alastor’s mask is a sign that this is NOT about a resident. It’s not really his tense face, or even the slight tap of his foot that tells her anything. It’s the worry. He sounds worried, and Charlie knows Alastor. She’s gotten used to his flippant attitude and his loose morals. He asked for a non-deadly solution and he sounds worried. 

 

This is about Alastor. He only worries about himself. It has to be about him. Who else would he worry about? Niffty is his friend but there’s no way she would go to him for advice and she doesn’t care to keep people alive. Husk isn’t available and… wait. Who else is Alastor attached to?

 

Niffty (would not go to Alastor). Mimzy (hah, that would be funny). Husk (not a friend). Rosie (gay, can take care of herself). And.. hmm. Well. There was that one time Alastor let someone yell at him. It was some airwave fight with that TV sinner. Who was that? 

 

V-- Vuw? Vil? Vem? Vex? VOX! It was Vox. Right. Charlie knew Vox because Mom mentioned she found him repulsive at some point. Right. 

 

Alastor had a fight with Vox and Alastor NEVER lets people walk away from fights alive. He smashes people, stabs them with his tentacles, eats them, and then walks away without a drop of blood on his coat. 

 

Oh. 

 

So, it’s Vox. Then. It has to be Vox. Who else gets away with YELLING at Alastor? And Vox did it without hesitation or care, and he didn’t even think he was going to be killed. He just yelled and Alastor let him. Alastor is in love with Vox.

 

Alastor is in love with Vox. 

 

It has to be him. No one, and Charlie means no one, gets away with anything close to what Vox did in that little tiff they had. They can be upset, or mad, or anything else, but if they yell or try to hurt Alastor in any way they get stabbed. Generally with a tentacle. 

 

That’s not the only sign. Charlie remembers what Alastor said, and she sees the dots to connect. Vox asked Alastor to join his little group. The V-- The Verms? No. The Vers? Yeah. The Vers. People don’t just ask Alastor to join something and there’s no one else that Alastor allows to talk to him or touch him or anything else… No, It has to be Vox. Alastor is in love with Vox. 

 

He’s trying to fall out of love because he finds it to be a weakness rather than the strength it actually is. 

 

That just won’t do. If Alastor can fall in love and ENJOY being in love, if he allows love to be something he can enjoy and keep in his heart, then he can be redeemed. He could have some sympathy for those around him. For once. He could see the world in a new light. 

 

No, he can’t fall out of love. That’s a terrible idea. Charlie has to make sure that doesn’t happen, and he came to HER for advice. She could say anything. It’s not like he knows the techniques to fall out of love, or he wouldn’t have asked. He also doesn’t understand how he fell INTO love or he would just reverse engineer his way out of love. Alastor is an intelligent man, he could figure something out if he had just a small thread to work with.

 

So. Charlie could… offer… suggestions that would, perhaps, push them together instead of apart. 

 

Oh, that’s so devious of her. That was bad, right? She shouldn’t do that. But it was for the greater good! It was for the betterment of all of Hell AND Alastor AND the hotel because if she could redeem an OVERLORD then that would mean anyone could be redeemed.

 

Heaven would have to listen then.

 

And Alastor deserves to be happy like anyone else! Charlie could see it. This was the one occasion where being a LITTLE bad was fine. It was better than fine, it was the right thing to do. Her intentions were good, and that meant it was a good thing to do. Yup.

 

“Well.” Charlie tries to think of how to phrase her suggestions. She needs them to sound like falling out of love. “You need… to spend more time with them! The more you’re around them, the more you can see their flaws. Yup. That’s how that works.”

 

Alastor hums and pauses to tilt his head. His eyes unfocused for a moment. “Interesting.”

 

“And you have to get them gifts!” Charlie nods vigorously. “They have to see that you value material goods more than them. And. So you get them NICE things that you don't necessarily think they want but you know they NEED. Getting them things they need makes it seem like you think they can’t take care of themselves.”

 

 Damn, Charlie is GOOD at this. Is that a bad thing? Nah, she just tries her best at everything she does. “And you definitely need -- well. Don’t forget to give them a nickname they might hate. Make it really cute because if you use a cute nickname, you’re saying they aren’t scary or worth you saying their actual name. That’s why you have to make it cute… like … like… POOKIE! OR baby. Or--” Rosie calls her dad Sunshine. That’s a cute one. “Lovely.”

 

Not a very Alastor nickname though. 

 

She absolutely has Alastor’s full attention for the first time since he came in through the hotel doors. That’s a bit intoxicating. It feels good to enrapture Alastor of all people. He has his ears fully pointed at her, his microphone at rest, and Charlie just knows that he’s going over everything she said in his head. 

 

“One last thing.” She really tries to keep her excitement tamped down. “You don’t want to try anything, everything, at once. Taking things slow shows you don't care for their time. You know. I would also suggest doing something, an activity, they like! Like cooking! Yeah. or Dancing! So you can see them when they’re bad at something. Yup. I suggest that.” Charlie knows she’s very convincing. She thinks she did pretty good.

 

“Well, this was highly informative!” Alastor spins his microphone, his ears twitching, and hums. “I do see the value in your inane drivel at this moment. Perhaps the resident in question will see it as well.”

 

Charlie is over the moon. That worked. That worked? That worked! He looks like he actually means that compliment. “Glad to help, Al. Anything else I can do for our… resident?”

 

“Yes, you are far too sentimental.” Alastor turns on a heel and marches away. That worked!!! She has to tell Vaggie. She has to tell someone before she explodes. 

 

She waits until she hears the distinct whoosh of Alastor’s shadows taking him away, then she sprints to the kitchen where Vaggie should be cooking dinner. Tomorrow would be better to talk, since no one else was there to listen while they were on a date, but Charlie could NOT wait. Nope. This needed to be yelled right now. And maybe they can discuss ways to help Alastor and Vox get together. They’ll really need to work together on this, because it WILL be a problem and a half. They’ll need a lot of time to get those two in the same room even. 

 

Vaggie has to know and Vaggie has to know NOW. Besides, they promised to communicate!

 

“Vaggieeeeeeeeeeeeee!” Charlie bursts into the kitchen, flinging her body through the door hard enough that she trips over a hard tile edge and has to catch herself using the counter. The slight trip has zero impact on her beaming smile as she takes in her girlfriend. Her girlfriend who is so cute in her apron that says “Don’t Touch Me” and her headband to keep her hair out of her face. She blinks in Charlie’s direction and Charlie just loves her so much. 

 

She can’t help it. 

 

She bounces closer and kisses Vaggie on the cheek, enjoying the slight sigh and press into her space that Vaggie gives, and then she pulls away. Vaggie murmurs something about it not being fair that Charlie kisses her when her hands aren’t free so she can’t kiss BACK nearly as well.

 

“Vaggie.” Charlie bounces on her toes. “Guess who asked me, ME, MEEEE, for dating advice? Guess, guess, guess!!!” She can’t help the excitement. This was ALASTOR she was talking about. “You’ll never guess.”

 

Vaggie snorts and moves to the sink to wash off her hands. “Angel.”

 

“Nope!” Charlie laughs and leans onto a clean counter to put her chin in her palms. She watches Vaggie move to the next part of whatever she’s cooking. It looks tasty, especially because there’s some of those bell peppers Vaggie swears by.

 

“Husk.” Vaggie grabs a knife and swirls the tip in Charlie’s direction. She raises an eyebrow when Charlie sticks out her tongue. 

 

“Nope!”

 

That makes Vaggie pause. She mutters something in Spanish, and then she says, “Your dad?”

 

They’ll have to come back to that later because WHAT is she talking about? She’s not even trying at this point. Her dad doesn’t need romantic advice. He’s the most romantic person Charlie knows. He went all out for Mom … until the divorce. But he could woo and date anyone he wanted to, he’s the King of Hell and he’s her DAD. He doesn’t need her advice. 

 

He’s also not in the dating game right now. He’s still getting over the divorce, and Charlie doesn’t see that changing anytime soon. No, her dad doesn’t need anything in regards to romance. He’s got it covered.

 

“Vaggie.” Charlie tuts in the way she’s heard Rosie do before. “Come on. It can’t be my dad.”

 

Vaggie gives a look that reads as unimpressed and Charlie doesn’t know where it came from. It’s fine. Totally fine. Vaggie sighs. “Please say it wasn’t Niffty.”

 

That thought makes Charlie shudder. “Absolutely not. I don’t think I want to give Niffty advice.”

 

“Good.” Vaggie nods and then pauses again with her knife hovering over a bell pepper. “Wait, who’s left?”

 

Charlie lets it sit for a moment. It takes a moment, the idea sinking into Vaggie like a piece of paper in water, but there is only one hotel resident left that Charlie would be excited when they ask her for advice -- and there it is. Vaggie drops her knife where it clatters on the wooden cutting board and spins to fully face Charlie.

 

“No.” Her eyes are wide.

 

“Yup!” Charlie bounces on the tips of her hooves as she stands upright and claps her hands. “Alastor came to ME! ME, Vaggie. ME! For love advice.”

 

“Okay.” Vaggie braces against the counter and taps at it. “Okay. Are you-- Are you sure?”

 

“Vaggie.” Charlie once again tries to tut like Rosie, but she’s not quite sure she has Rosie’s force of will to put behind it. Rosie certainly manages to make her dad cringe with her tuts. “He asked how to fall out of love. He said someone got too close and now he can’t stop thinking about them. That’s as clear as it gets.”

 

“That dumbass, bastard, idiot would ask how to fall OUT of love.” Vaggie scoffs. “He said that?”

 

“Yes!” Charlie spins in a circle. “And he came to ME to ask for advice. That means he trusts me. He really trusts me. We’ve gotten closer than I thought. And Vaggie, guess what this means?”

 

Vaggie pales. “That whoever he’s fallen in love with is in for a bad time? Poor soul.”

 

“No.” Charlie pouts. “It means he’s not going to be mean to them! And he can be redeemed!”

 

Vaggie does not narrow her eyes or state outright that she disagrees, but Charlie knows her girlfriend and she can see the hesitation in her response. “I… Well. What makes you say that?”

 

“Think about it.” Charlie waves her hands and steps closer. “What’s the first step to redemption? It’s trying. And why try? You need motivation. What greater motivation is there than love? If Alastor loves someone, he can try! And if he tries, he can be redeemed. Can you see it?”

 

Vaggie purses her lips. “I suppose. Love did help me become a better person.” She bites her lip. “But Charlie, he’s an OVERLORD. Those people don’t just become better. They own souls and people. They believe in being bad and using bad actions against people. They only care about power. How do-- Well. Don’t you think that will be an issue?”

 

Charlie pauses and considers what Vaggie said. “I suppose.” She tilts her head back and forth as she tries to think of the problem. “But we have to try anyway, right? Everyone deserves the chance to change. Everyone! If we aren’t for everyone, then how can I show Heaven that I’m trying my best? We have to try, Vaggie.”

 

Vaggie nods and turns back to her vegetables. “You’re right. What’s your plan then?”

 

“We!” Charlie wiggles closer because she can’t help her excitement. “Are going to help him fall in love!” She keeps going even when Vaggie tilts her head. “I already gave him bad advice. I told him to spend MORE time with the person he loves. I said it was to see their flaws because more time means more flaws. He accepted my suggestion! He listened! Which means he’s going to DO what I said. We both know spending time together actually helps people fall in love MORE, not less. He’ll be deep in love in no time.”

 

“You lied?” Vaggie sounds worried. “Charlie…”

 

“It’s for the greater good, Vaggie! Don’t you think this is worth a little white lie?” Charlie puts her face where Vaggie can see it and gives her the eyes. The puppy dog eyes that make Vaggie melt, and melt Vaggie does. 

 

“I can see the good.” Vaggie sighs. “I just worry that lying will lead to more things. We both know lying can hurt a relationship. And Alastor did go to you for advice.”

 

“That’s the thing!” Charlie slides behind Vaggie and wraps her arms around Vaggie’s waist to pull her close. “He’ll never know. And if he does, he’ll forgive me because we got him his happiness through love. It’s perfect.”

 

Vaggie sets down the knife and runs her hands along Charlie’s arms. She then turns in Charlie’s embrace to kiss her properly. That’s very nice.

 

“Alright, Alright.” Vaggie traces the edge of Charlie’s jaw with her fingers. “I love you and I’ll let you take the reins on this. But. Babe. You gotta be careful. If he finds out what you’re doing, I don’t think Alastor will trust you ever again.”

 

Charlie kisses her forehead. “I got this. I’m the definition of subtle.”

Chapter 3: Charlie Asks for Advice

Summary:

Charlie asks Rosie for Advice.

Now.

 

Being back in Pride has been stressful. In a way that Rosie was not prepared to deal with because the ending of her vacation had been stressful too. That is not to say Rosie doesn’t like being busy, she does since it keeps her mind off … other things… but there is a certain amount of busy that becomes TOO busy. 

 

Right now she’s too busy. 

 

“Rosie.” Dany rubs at her temples and looks at the orders that are starting to flood in. “I thought we tamped down the press. What is this?” 

 

Rosie looks at the pile of papers and sighs. “Ozzie said he was going to make a connection, but I didn’t think it would be this fast.”

 

“Who is Ozzie?” Dany mutters, but then she waves a hand and picks up the list of orders. “We need more fabric. Do you think Huron has the silver star fabric still?”

 

“Disgusting.” Rosie shudders. “Don’t mention that man’s name in this Emporium. We’ll ask Sunshine.”

 

“We’ll ask Lucifer.” Dany sets down the legal pad and smirks. “Or have you forgotten he has a name that ISN’T your pet name?”

 

“It’s not-- It’s a nickname.” Rosie hears the front door bell chime. “Didn’t we lock that?”

 

The two of them exchange a look. They nod and then Dany goes left and Rosie goes right. There are two ways out of the back, and each taking a door means any robbers can’t slip past. They’ve only had one attempted robbery before, but life has been quite busy and stressful as of late. Might as well add a robbery in the mix.

 

“Charlie?” Rosie puts her hands on her hips. Dany, emerging out the other door, spins on a foot and lets the door close without coming all the way into the room. That means Rosie is on her own here. Fair enough. 

 

Charlie stands in the middle of the Emporium lobby, looking around while she fiddles with her fingers and shifts from foot to foot. 

 

“Charlie.” Rosie says her name a little louder. Charlie jumps up in the air with a yelp, lands on a single foot, and then spins while flailing her arms until she can’t keep her balance and falls on her rear. Truly impressive. “What brings you to the Emporium, sweetheart?”

 

Rosie sweeps forward and helps Charlie to her feet while flicking a finger to send a tendril of power to double check that the door is locked. It is. How did-- That’s something to figure out later. It takes a few seconds for Charlie to get her bearings, and then she gives Rosie a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I wanted to ask for some advice.”

 

“Well, I’m always here for my clie--” Rosie pauses. Charlie isn’t a client anymore, is she? No, she’s a client in some ways (she is absolutely paying for the uniforms with how much of a headache they are being), but she’s also Lucifer’s daughter. Rosie can’t go after her soul or ask for a favor. She’s a darling girl, and Rosie would rather not hurt her Sunshine. Best to just treat Charlie like a friend. Rosie blinks. “For you. Come on to the back. I’m sure I have a batch of cinnamon-apple cookies.”

 

She’s been experimenting with the recipe to make it good enough to use as a bribe. Sunshine could easily be bribed with the right baked goods. 

 

“You’re not offering-- Never mind. Thank you.” Smart girl. Rosie hums as she keeps a hand near the small of Charlie’s back to keep her going at an appropriate pace. It’s late in the afternoon, the Emporium is closed, and Lucifer will be expecting her back to cook dinner soon. Best to move quickly. “I’m sorry to be a bother, I just didn’t know who else to go to! Ugh.”

 

Rosie sits her down at the chef’s table in the kitchen with a laugh. “If you were being a bother, I’dda kicked you out. You tell Auntie Rosie what the problem is, and I’ll get you your cookies.”

 

As soon as Rosie has turned, Charlie says, “Well. It’s about Alastor.”

 

Of course it’s about Alastor. Her fool of a best friend drives her up a wall every week it seems. It takes every ounce of her restraint to not groan. Instead, she grabs the plate of cookies on the counter and turns with a beaming smile to Charlie. “What’s our charming friend done now? Seems he’s into all sorts of things.”

 

“Hah. Well.” Charlie is quick to take a cookie and start nibbling. “It’s sort of something he asked about, not something he did.”

 

This is a slow and drawn out conversation compared to the last time Charlie had come by to ask for advice (and an army). It seems Charlie has two settings: GO and slow. Almost like Lucifer. She’s a lot like her father, now that Rosie is thinking about it. Best to not get distracted though, she clears her head of other thoughts and focuses on Charlie. 

 

When she slides into her seat, she offers a mild, “Oh?”

 

Charlie nods. “See. He asked me for love advice.”

 

If there was a way to make Rosie feel like she was in an air balloon careening towards the ground, Charlie managed to find it. Amazing. She can’t even put any emotion in her voice when she asks, “He what?”

 

“More specifically, he asked me how to fall out of love and I didn’t really think that was a good idea. So I told him to try falling out of love by falling more in love and really I shouldn’t have lied, but don’t you think it’s sill--”

 

Rosie can only process so much of what Charlie’s saying. There’s snippets her brain manages to snatch from the rant happening in front of her, but the back of her mind is going over her recent interactions with Alastor. He had seemed different, hadn’t he? He’d been a little more of a worrywart. A little more in tune with her and what she needed.

 

He was paying attention. 

 

They were back for a week and every time she saw Alastor, he was a gentleman in the way he’d been at the beginning of their friendship. Charlie. Might be right. If Alastor is in love, he would certainly try to hide it, but he’s terrible at hiding things. He pulls away instead of covering up, and that’s very easy to see.

 

She knows him so very well.

 

And he’s been soft to her as of late. Kind. He could be soft and kind, sure, but that was not his default. Something was making him soft and kind. Oh dear. 

 

“So really, I think I was in the right to do what I did, but I worry that he’ll find out and then I don’t even know if I’m right about who he’s in love with--”

 

“Charlie.” Rosie cuts Charlie off because the rant has gone on long enough. “It certainly sounds like you were doing something to help him, what might you need from me?”

 

“Oh.” Charlie blinks. “Do you know how I can push him towards love instead of away from it?”

 

There we go. A simple, one sentence question. Rosie can work with that. 

 

“Well, dear, Alastor is a right pickle.” And she’s going to kill him as soon as she figures out who he’s in love with. How could he not tell her? She’s his best friend! She’s the only friend who’s stood by him through his stupid, stupid mistakes. “You know, he’s never consistent on what works. Some days you gotta be frank and some days if you say something to his face, he’ll bite your fingers off. How was he during this conversation of yours?”

 

Rosie needs details. She needs to get to the bottom of things.

 

“Alastor was--” Charlie taps at the table. “Worried? I guess? He had that thing where there were stress lines around his smile, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, and he gave me his full attention. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten Alastor’s full attention. It was a very odd thing to experience.”

 

His full attention. Worried. It certainly sounds like something serious. He doesn’t just let those kind of emotions slip past that smile of his. Rosie can tell those things, but if someone like Charlie can see… He’s in deep. 

 

“You know, how about I talk to him? He and I go a ways back, I’ll have you know. You keep doin’ what you’re doin’, and I’ll try on my end to get through to him.” Charlie will just push him away from love. If he’s in love, and he’s trying to get out of it, it’s best that Rosie steps in. She can stop him from killing the person who’s captured his attention.

 

“Would you?” Charlie beams. “That’s great! I’ll keep giving him advice” -- Did Charlie say she was giving Alastor advice? -- “and you can approach him as a friend. Together, it HAS to work.”

 

“I agree!” Rosie doesn’t know what she’s agreeing to, but she really does have to get home. The clock chimed seven and Lucifer comes to pick her up if she’s still here at 7:30. A week back and he’s already set up a schedule for them because he loves a routine. She does too, but it’s amusing how fast he got grumpy when she was late. “Let’s get you out of here, hmm?”

 

Charlie chats about the uniforms on her way out. 

 

When the door shuts, Dany’s voice pierces the air. “Did I hear that Alastor is in love?”

 

“You did!” Rosie spins on a foot and huffs. “That man. I should have seen it. Have you noticed him being nice as of late?”

 

“Nice to you, maybe.” Dany is cleaning up behind the counter, probably wrapping up the closing checklist so they can both go home. “He’s been grumpy and rude to everyone else.”

 

Interesting. Rosie narrows her eyes as her brain tries to slot that information in amongst the array of other things she’s learned today. “I wonder who--”

 

“Don’t ask, Rosie. That’s a bad idea.” Dany waves a pencil in her direction. “The last time you started asking Alastor questions, what happened?”

 

Vox. Rosie shudders. “You’re right, you’re right.” But it doesn’t matter that Dany is right. She’s going to find out what’s going on in Alastor’s head. She has to. “Finish everything?”

 

“Get out of here before your Sunshine comes to get you. Let me know when I should start planning the wedding dress.” If the door wasn’t opening behind her, the familiar sound of Lucifer’s boots on linoleum echoing around them, Rosie would have pulled a pencil from her skirts and thrown it. As is, Dany is safe. For now.

 

Dany grins. She knows exactly what she did. Damn it.

 

“Moonlight?”

 

“I’m coming!” Rosie turns to see Lucifer. He’s glowing, dressed down in shirt sleeves and slacks, and she finds he’s quite handsome in the burgundy she found for him to wear. It’s a good color on him. “Just wrapped up some things. What are we having for dinner?”

 

///

 

Lucifer has paperwork so Rosie has time to make a cup of tea, settle on the couch, and grab a yellow pad of paper to jot her thoughts down.

 

The first thing to figure out when it comes to Alastor is who could be distracting him. He’s probably not actually in love, the man wouldn’t know love if it took his own microphone and smacked him over the head, but he is definitely distracted. Knowing him, he would equate the two.

 

Distractions are love and vice versa. It’s a very Alastor thought. 

 

She taps her pencil on the paper. Distracting people. Alastor doesn’t know a lot of people anymore. He used to be in a lot of circles, but in the 90’s he pulled away. Tiff hasn’t heard from him in a few decades, Zestial hasn’t heard from him since before he disappeared, and the cannibals haven’t even spoken to him since somewhere around 2003. Sure, he’d popped in to buy meat from Bart, but overall he’s been withdrawn and quiet.

 

Now that she’s thinking of it, she really should have known he was going to disappear one day. 

 

Not a productive thought. She shoves that aside and is at least glad that the list of people he knows is quite narrow now. Otherwise she’d have to start calling people and then the knowledge that Rosie was looking for SOMEONE would spread. Her network was quite well informed.

 

Mimzy: She couldn’t distract Alastor if she tried.

 

Charlie: A child. He went to her for advice instead of Rosie, his best friend, for some Sin-Damned reason that Rosie was going to drag him over the coals for. Having to hear about him being in love from anyone but him directly is an insult. 

 

Angel Dust: No, too sexual. Niffty: Hah! No. Any of Rosie’s cannibals: No, the grapevine is strong and Rosie would have heard of something before now. Any mafia member: No, same reason it can’t be a cannibal. Husk: No, the poor man was probably taking the brunt of Alastor’s anger at being distracted. 

 

Rosie taps her pencil faster and purses her lips as she stares at her growing list of people. None of which are good options. 

 

New residents at the hotel? No, Lucifer says Alastor disli-- Rosie pauses and tilts her head. No. No. No. It has-- Who else does Alastor know?

 

Overlords? No, Alastor would rather eat his own ears than interact with the Vee’s. 

Hotel Residents? No, Alastor disrespects them since they don’t just take control of their own situation (his words).

 

Their circle of friends? No, Alastor hasn’t talked to them in ages.

 

Rosie swallows.

 

No. No, no. 

 

He’s been soft to Rosie, Dany said. Nice to Rosie. Alastor and her are friends and they go far back and he KNOWS how she reacts to having her heart broken and he knows how she feels about--

 

“Moonlight?” Lucifer steps into the living room and Rosie jerks her head up to blink at him. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, his cuffs are rolled up past his elbows, and his smile is lovely and warm. He’s so lovely. She feels warm just looking at him. “What might you be up to?”

 

It would be best to not lie to her Sunshine. “Thinking about people Alastor could reconnect with. I think him being cooped up in the hotel is bad for him.”

 

“Ah.” He nods and moves to sit by her, pressing in until he’s practically laying on her curled up legs. “Let’s see.”

 

Rosie tilts the pad where he can see it and tries, very hard, to not think about the person not on the paper. The only person not on the paper. 

 

“These are people he talks to currently?” Lucifer hums. “You could have him talk to Zestial again. Zestial is always willing to have tea and gossip. Al likes gossip.”

 

“You’re very right.” Rosie whispers as Lucifer leans in to bump her forehead with his. “He would. I should have a cup of tea with him too.”

 

“Well, right now you should come to bed. You work tomorrow.” He pulls away and offers her a hand to help her off the couch. 

 

She snorts, but takes his hand anyway. The pad is tossed onto the table. “Since when do you set my bedtime?”

 

“Since you told me you go to bed near midnight on days you get up at 6.” Lucifer waggles his eyebrows and she groans as he pulls her towards the bedroom. “You have to admit, you like getting more sleep.”

 

She does not admit she likes getting more sleep. That would be letting him win. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Oh, really now?” He tuts, and she narrows her eyes. “Then you don’t know about the new episode of that baking show? That I only let you watch if you’re in bed before 10?”

 

Rosie gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

 

“I would and you know it.” His grin is far too wide and toothy for his words to be untrue. He would deny her a new episode of her baking show, and she knows it. 

 

The bedroom is already set up with a TV and a pile of blankets for them to curl up on. Damn him. 

 

“Fine, but I want your wings out tonight.” Rosie puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. He shrugs, completely unphased. 

 

“You’re wasting baking time.”

 

When he turns on a heel to grab his night clothes, she tackles him onto the bed because she can snap her clothes into pajamas and she will NOT let him cut into her baking show. He giggles as she grabs the remote to turn on the TV. 

 

“Is that a ‘I will go to bed at 9 pm every night from now on’ I hear?” He continues to giggle as she shoves him onto his side and does a couple claps in a chop chop motion. His wings pop out, his clothes melt into his usual tank top and shorts, and he pulls a pillow under his head.

 

“If you’re going to threaten me, I suppose.” She slides under his warm wing and turns on her baking show. 

Notes:

I'm so happy the first couple chapters went over well! *pats my baby*

Chapter 4: It's not You, it's Them

Summary:

Vaggie seeks Information.

Vaggie did not think Alastor was in love with Vox. It didn’t make sense. Yes, Alastor might have told Charlie he wanted to fall out of love, but that’s very different than being IN love. He might be in the early phase where it’s possible to see what’s happening but the real feelings haven’t settled in yet. 

 

Not to mention Vox and Alastor do NOT seem like the kind of couple who hate-- She avoids that thought. Alastor doesn’t seem to like being touched in ANY way despite his capacity to get in other people’s spaces to drive them nuts. 

 

“Husk.” Vaggie can’t just let Charlie embarrass herself or feel down when she’s wrong. No, as a good girlfriend it’s Vaggie’s job to verify information and seek other methods of information gathering. It had been a couple days of Charlie putting up a cork board in their room with red strings connecting Alastor to various other pictures, and now Charlie was going to talk to Rosie.

 

Rosie. 

 

Alastor’s friend. 

 

Meaning that Charlie was about to take her little theory and spread it, and that meant Vaggie REALLY needed to have acted sooner. She didn’t stop Charlie, that would be rude, but she did want to take other precautions against the rumor mill.

 

“Husk.” Vaggie says a little louder and Husk turns to give her a raised brow. “Alastor.”

 

“I ain’t involved.” He leans onto the counter and pours her a shot of tequila. “Get drunk like everyone else and leave me out of it.”

 

“I don’t drink.” He huffs at her but she continues anyway. “I don’t want Charlie embarrassing herself. What’s Alastor’s relationship with Vox?”

 

“Vox?” Husk stands up straight and blinks. “That’s who she-- Look. Vox and Alastor have a…” He trails off and swallows. Making a quick glance to both the stairs and the hotel door, he leans over the counter so he only has to whisper to be heard. “Listen. Alastor and Vox have a complicated past. It ain’t good, and it does not leave room for friendly feelings.”

 

“Define complicated.” Vaggie almost throws her hands up. This is not enough information to get Charlie to drop it. Or anything. It’s vague nonsense.

 

“The kind that involves Rosie, a cast-iron pan, and missing cannibals.” Husk shudders. “That woman has an arm that can make Alastor cower.”

 

That does not help Vaggie understand. “A cast-iron pan?”

 

“Three of them, actually.” Husk stands up properly and takes the tequila shot himself. His nose scrunches up for a moment before he shakes his whole body to the point that Vaggie sees his tail flick up to be visible for a moment. “Never, and I mean never, piss off Rose. She will find a way to hit you where it hurts.”

 

Rose?

 

“You know Rosie?” Vaggie shouldn’t go down this path. She really shouldn’t. This isn’t the plan. This isn’t the path to get Charlie to drop this nonsense. But… she’s so curious. No one has ever called Rosie ‘Rose’ in front of her.

 

“I was an Overlord once.” He shrugs and pours another shot. “She came to my casino, shared a drink or two, pretty easy to get to know people when you run the best bar in town.”

 

There’s more there. Husk’s eyes went wide, like when he sees a laser pointer, and his hand as he pours is a little shakier than usual. There’s something. Vaggie can see it, can sense it, can feel it in the air around them. She knows something is up. She knows a secret when she sees one because she had kept secrets too. 

 

“Didn’t take Rosie to be a gambler.” Vaggie makes sure it sounds distasteful. Like she hates the idea of gambling (and she does). Husk scoffs in response.

 

“That woman hates gambling, but she loves a good bet.” Vaggie does not know the difference and she’s afraid to ask. “If you want to get on her good side, bring her a bottle of Doomsday Sapphire, some good gossip, and a bet on who will kiss who. You do that? Instant friendship. You bring anything less than the best? She’ll give you some of her time, but then you gotta climb out of the hole you made.”

 

“Why would I want to be friends with Rosie?” Vaggie considers his advice while reaching out to grab the shot. She doesn’t typically drink, but there’s nothing to stop Charlie from her mission now. Husk is willing to divulge information on Rosie to avoid talking about Vox. That means things. That means she can’t get anything out of him. 

 

There’s a spark in Husk’s eyes. A glittering piece of knowledge that Vaggie wants so desperately. “Everyone wants to be friends with Rosie. Trust me, kid.”

 

They share a moment. A single moment where Vaggie sees that he should be trusted and he sees that she’s listening, and then she downs the shot in one go and gently taps the empty glass down on the counter. 

 

As Vaggie walks away, the joy in Husk’s eyes settles into her thoughts. He never looks happy. But he was happy to talk about Rosie (Rose). Maybe that’s the couple Charlie should focus on. Might be a good way to divert Charlie’s attention from the more explosive one.

 

Then again.

 

Rosie is the Cannibal Overlord. 

 

Vaggie might just keep her thoughts to herself. Maybe. 

 

There’s the sound of scuttling coming from the nearest vent. Metal clanging and tiny feet tapping. 

 

“Niffty?” Nifty pops out of the nearest vent and looks at Vaggie with her pupil dilating. “What are you doing in the vent?”

 

“The mama roach has retreated.” Nifty giggles. “I’m showing her there’s no escape.”

 

“Right.” The glittering knowledge in Husk’s eyes is eating at Vaggie. She wants to know what he knows. “Do you know Rosie?”

 

“Of course! She cooks me roach meat balls.” Right. Right. Right. Niffty is not the person Vaggie should ask about any of this. “And when she visits, the Roach King murders less. She kills people instead.”

 

This is less information than Vaggie wanted and more questions than she had planned to have. Now, Vaggie has SO many questions. “And she’s friends with Husk?”

 

“Duh. That’s how Husk met the Roach King.” Niffty nods six times in rapid succession. “Cat Eat Cat Stage Show… and dinner. The dinner was good.”

 

Stage. Show.

 

Vaggie stares at Niffty. “They had a stage show together?”

 

“It was really bloody. So good.” Niffty nods again in rapid succession and then her head tilts. “Do you hear that?”

 

“No.” Vaggie also does not WANT to hear anything Niffty hears. Especially because Niffty screeches at such a high pitch that Vaggie thinks her ear drums burst before she giggles and dives for the vent again. 

 

“The roaches can’t escape me!” Echoes out of the vent and then there’s silence.

 

There’s a past between Rosie and Husk. Maybe that’s why Alastor treats Husk so badly? No. Alastor doesn’t care about anyone. Yeah, he’s FRIENDS with Rosie but that doesn’t mean he cares. Maybe. 

 

The thought wiggles and picks at Vaggie’s brain. If Niffty is to be believed, and Vaggie doesn’t believe anything she says really, then… what does that mean? Assumptions are bad to make but it’s hard to not connect some dots there.

 

Husk calls Rosie ‘Rose’. 

 

Vaggie hums and goes to make dinner. She’ll debate this later. Maybe after she stops thinking that maybe Alastor is jealous about Rosie and Husk’s relationship and that’s why he’s asking Charlie that dumb question. 

 

Maybe. 

 

It has to be wrong. 

 

Alastor would just go after someone he loves. He doesn’t dance around a topic. When he wants something, he gets it. That’s the biggest hole in Charlie’s story. The loose thread that Vaggie needs to tie up and get rid of.

 

When the pan is on, the oil popping, Vaggie’s thoughts turn inwards as her body does the cooking without really needing her brain. Charlie will be home soon and maybe Rosie will have offered something to help. For now, there’s just the Cat Eat Cat Stage Show and Dinner swirling around in Vaggie’s head. 

 

Are there pictures from then? Is there a record of that existing? Can Vaggie see it? Niffty said it was bloody. Does Vaggie WANT to see it? Probably not. 

 

Why would Alastor care about Husk and Rosie’s relationship? He took Husk’s soul. He has control over Husk. It makes no sense. None of it makes sense. Everything Vaggie learns makes her question things more. This is awful--

 

Husk. Was an Overlord. Those types don’t just FALL out of being an Overlord. They’re pushed out. As in Alastor pushed Husk out, because he didn’t want Husk to be an Overlord anymore because Alastor didn’t want Husk around because… Alastor is in love with Rosie.

 

Not Vox.

 

Vaggie takes the pan off the burner and stares at the onions she’s browning. 

 

That made MUCH more sense than Vox. Loving a friend is more logical than loving an enemy.

 

Charlie bursts into the kitchen. “Guess what I learned!”

 

Vaggie puts the pan back on the burner and turns her thoughts away from the Cat Eat Cat knowledge she has. “Alastor is evil and we should kick him out of the hotel?”

 

“Rosie agrees that Alastor is in love and she’s going to help!”

 

What?

 

No. Rosie has to know that Alastor is in love with HER. Unless she WANTS to be with Alastor? And is upset he hasn’t tried for anything? Maybe. That makes no sense. 

 

“She agrees that Alastor is in love?” Vaggie takes her pan off the burner again. “As in she said Alastor is in love?”

 

“Yup!” Charlie nods and dances closer. She’s so cute when she dances. “And she’s going to help. She’ll talk to Alastor too!”

 

Oh. Rosie is probably going to confess. That makes sense. She probably didn’t know if Alastor was in love because he’s an asshole who’s hard to read. Okay. That’s far more logical. 

 

“That’s nice.” Vaggie nods. “Help with dinner?”

Notes:

Remember that this is inspired by Shakespeare and you'll understand why we have everyone doing everything and no one has a single braincell

Chapter 5: Cannibal Betting

Summary:

It is a horribly, horribly kept secret that Cannibal Town has a running betting pool on everything .

Rosie is at an Overlord meeting.

 

That means it’s time.

 

“Bets!” Dany calls and rings a bell to indicate the last five minutes of betting. “Last five everyone. After today, no more bets will be allowed on the timing of first kiss or the actual confession moment. Last day.”

 

“Come on, Dany.” Sarah groans as she forks over her thousand dollars. “Can’t you extend the betting to tomorrow? We don’t even know if they’re living together yet!”

 

“Would you like to bet on that instead? Last day for that as well.” Dany has been the bookmaker for Cannibal Town for a long time. After people got tired of losing to her -- and Dany realizing she had more money than she would ever need -- she left the betting game and started running them instead. It made them more consistent, more reliable, and more people were happy to admit they lost.

 

Well.

 

She still bets from time to time. But she’s not allowed to bet on things involving HERSELF of which there are several bets. Such as when she’ll punch a customer. Or when she’ll finally call Rosie a friend. Bart has bet on that one and she glares at him every time he puts a little more money in the pot. 

 

Sarah and Yeven look at each other, and then Sarah pulls another thousand from her clutch and hands it over. “I’ll bet on that too. I bet they’ll be living together within the year.”

 

“I need a specific day.” Pulling the pencil from behind her ear, Dany twirls the pencil and goes to write Sarah’s name in her book. “And hour, please. The bet is split based on day and the percent split is based on hour.”

 

“The 8th Tuesday from now at 3 pm.” Yeven mutters, but Sarah elbows him. “At noon.”

 

Dany does not hesitate to write noon. Sarah is in charge in that relationship and Dany is not about to challenge the sudden change like she would in other circumstances. “And your day and hour for the other bet?”

 

Sarah and Yeven exchange a look. The crowd behind them stirs, a few shouting at them to hurry up, and the gazebo of cannibals that have already made their bets cheer the crowd on. Dany’s little table is the calm in the center of the storm. Well. The edge of the storm. 

 

“7th Friday from now at 3 pm.” Sarah mutters and then sighs. “Kiss and confession at same time please.”

 

Dany makes a note and then nods. “Next!”

 

Veron. Timothy. Tomothy. Susan. 

 

Susan and Dany stare at each other. “Wire transfer.”

 

“Date and time?”

 

“Three weeks away, Tuesday, 6 pm. Kiss thirty minutes before the confession. They’ll start living together tomorrow at noon.” 

 

The staring match continues as Dany writes without looking. 

 

Susan cracks first with a smile that’s all teeth. “I know your bet, Danyella.”

 

“Do you now? You should seeing as the betting pool is open for everyone to see.” Dany kicks her legs up onto the ottoman she brought. “That why you went a day before mine?”

 

“Yup.” Susan leans over the table, her hands pressed into the cheap metal. “No one else is picking a date that close. Who’s going to win? You or me?”

 

“I haven’t lost to you in three decades.” Dany flashes her teeth. “What to make a bet on that bet?”

 

“New dress.”

 

“New plant for Bri-- my garden.”

 

They continue to stare at each other. Then some jeers from the crowd get Susan to stand up and wink at Dany. “I’ll send you the dress specifics in three weeks.”

 

“I’ll send you the plant I want in three weeks and one day. Say, around seven pm.” Dany knows she looks smug. She doesn’t give a damn. 

 

When Susan walks away, Paul steps forward. “Susan and you are going to kill each other one day. I’d like to bet on that.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. And the Rosie/Lucifer bets?” Dany opens her other book (the ones about herself) and waits for Paul to give specifics. He knows better than to just say what he’s betting on.

 

“You’ll do the first punch within the decade.” Non-specific but likely to at least win back what he bet. Fair enough. “Rosie and Lucifer are already living together and will get together in three weeks and three days. Noon.”

 

Dany pauses and sighs. “I hate you.”

 

“Love you too.”

 

///

 

The grounds are crowded as Dany makes her way to the gazebo for her announcement. The crowd settles, the jeers die down, and each cannibal looks to Dany. The bookmaker has final say on all bets. No one argues and no one steps between Dany and her rightful place behind the microphone. 

 

“Betting has closed for Rosie and Lucifer living together. Betting has closed for Rosie and Lucifer’s confession. Betting has closed for Rosie and Lucifer’s first kiss.” Dany flips open her book to her calculations. “Living has six hundred thousand on the line.” A cheer goes up. “Confession has 1.2 million.” A louder cheer. “And first kiss has 5 million.”

 

Dany rolls her eyes before she says the next one. “Several people bet on me interfering and helping them get together. Everyone who bet on that is rude.” The crowd laughs. “That betting pool is at thirty thousand. Bets for Me Interfering will be open for the next week and will then close.”

 

Someone shouts from the crowd, “What about the bet on Susan interfering?”

 

“Forty thousand.” After everyone is done talking over her, Dany snaps her book shut and everyone shuts the fuck up. “Listen up. We will not argue over who won. It will be dependent on date and percentage cut based on time. If anyone, and I mean anyone, contests the win, I WILL tell Rosie exactly who bet on what. Do we understand?”

 

The sheer silence tells Dany many things. Good. 

 

“Other bets are still on through the next week. Those bets include: When the hotel residents will find out, when Alastor tries to kill Lucifer, and who will be the person who initiates the first kiss. Those are one bet, one pool for each. Minimum for finding out and killing is five hundred.”

 

The crowd murmurs and Dany waits for them to stop. A few elbows are thrown. A few people bite those talking to get them to shut up. Dany does not talk over people. She has been doing this for too long to deal with people asking questions later.

 

Once it’s quiet again, Dany continues. “Seeing as there are only two options, Rosie or Lucifer, for initiating the kiss, the minimum is three thousand.” Murmurs happen and Dany once again waits. Blood is shed. Chunks of flesh are missing by the time they stop talking. “You may bet on the KIND of kiss that was used. If Sarah bets Lucifer kissed first but Yeven bet that Lucifer kissed first AND used tongue, then Lucifer did kiss first and used tongue, Yeven would win since he is more accurate. Do. Not. Bet. Sex. First kiss only.”

 

More murmurs. Dany waits.

 

Blood drips onto the streets and starts to create pools beneath people’s feet.

 

“First bite is also now open.” Cheers go up and quickly die down when Dany starts to wait once more. “First bite will go for one month from now. Day and hour needed. Minimum five hundred. Up to three bets allowed. Any questions?”

 

Susan raises her hand. Dany ignores her.

 

“Any questions that involve the bet and are not about my clothing?” Susan’s hand goes down. No hands are raised. “Betting day is adjourned. See you at Veron’s place.”

 

The crowd disperses. Dany goes home to set up her spread sheets.

 

///

 

Paper is better than the weird little computer based spreadsheet program Daisy swears by. HellCells? What was it? Bah, it doesn’t matter. Dany is going to do it on paper like a good bookmaker should and she’ll post the bets tomorrow in the Coffee and Blood cafe. Veron ran a speakeasy when they were alive and knows how to keep things secret. 

 

The back wall was ALWAYS reserved for Dany. Announcements. Bets. Anything Dany wanted. Full control. Veron said she was scary.

 

Veron makes terrible coffee. So they can suck it up and give Dany the back wall. Though the terrible coffee is the only thing that keeps Rosie away. The food is why they get ANY customers at all.

 

The downstairs jazz area is perfect for the more… hidden side of Cannibal Town that they keep out of Rosie’s eyes. Not that she doesn’t KNOW about it, but she would rather not see the betting board. Too many bets about her make her sigh and groan and she just doesn’t like to know she’s that predictable. 

 

There we go. Final numbers for Veron’s back wall. Dany can go to-- No, no her phone is NOT going off. Absolutely not. Fuck. 

 

“Hi, this is Dany speaking, may I ask who’s calling?” Dany taps at her desk. This had BETTER be an emergency.

 

“Hello, Dany, this is Asmodeus. Rosie told me about you. I’m sorry to call so late, but I wanted to make sure Rosie wasn’t around.”

 

Asmodeus. The Sin of Lust. Is… calling?

 

“You can call me Ozzie.” Rosie mentioned an Ozzie earlier today. She was talking about the Sin of Lust? No. “I was wondering if the betting pools were still open?”

 

“I’m sorry, one moment.” Dany pulls the phone away to stare at it. She puts it back to her ear. “Sorry, I just needed a moment to conceptualize that the Sin of Lust is calling me. Bets closed today, but seeing as you didn’t know they were happening, I’m more than happy to take your bet now. Do you know the rules?”

 

Ozzie laughs. “Understandable. I do understand the rules. Day and time, correct?”

 

“Yup.” Dany nods. To no one. “That is the minimum.”

 

“You can relax. I’m happy to make a new friend. Especially one who will be Lucifer’s friend with time.” Ozzie thinks she’ll be Lucifer’s friend? “One of my succubi overheard a cannibal mention the bet, if you’re curious, and I just HAD to get in on it. I love a good, friendly bet.”

 

So does Cannibal Town. No wonder he’s befriended Rosie. 

 

Dany rolls her shoulders. Alright. She’s a professional. She’s a bookmaker. She can DO this. She can talk to the Sin of Lust like a normal cannibal. “Alright. There are three bets that closed today. Three bets that close next week. Are you interested in ONLY the Lucifer/Rosie ones, or are you interested in any and all open bets?”

 

“Any and all please.”

 

“Wire transfer is the only method of long distance money allowed or if you are betting over 10k. Otherwise we are a cash only betting pool.”

 

“Understood. I’ll wire as soon as the phone call is over.”

 

The betting pool is about to grow tremendously. Dany really hopes the Overlords do not learn about any of this. Rosie will kill her. 

 

“Three million on the first kiss being in two weeks, three days, at 1 pm.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Dany presses a hand to her chest and resists a cough at Ozzie’s words. 

 

“Right. Noted. The next one is when Rosie and Lucifer will start living together.”

 

///

 

When she posts the numbers, everyone goes wild.

Notes:

They have one on when Paul and Bart get together.
They have one for if Carmilla ends an Overlord meeting early.
They have one for when Alastor will piss Rosie off next.

Everything.

Chapter 6: Overlord Meeting

Summary:

Carmilla and Zestial enjoy poking Rosie for information.

Carmilla does not know why Rosie decided to show up with a white snake draped around her shoulders, but show up with a snake she did. She hadn’t come to tea time in weeks, and while Carmilla knew why (Zestial told her, even if he didn’t publish it in his newspaper), it was still an odd thing to see. It was odd to have it confirmed that Rosie was with the King of Hell.

 

That’s Lucifer’s snake on Rosie’s shoulders. Eden only allows friends and family to touch her, but she rarely drapes herself around someone unless she likes them a lot. Lucifer, Charlie, and Zestial have all had Eden decide they were lovely trees to hang on. It seems Rosie has joined that exclusive list of people.

 

The meeting continues as per usual, their arguments the normal ones they typically have, and Velvette is as awful as she always is. She has yet to try and rile Carmilla up as much as she did on that day with the angel head, but Carmilla is keeping tabs on her just in case. She will not be surprised again. 

 

It’s after everyone else has filtered out that Carmilla turns her sights to Rosie. She can’t leave yet. 

 

“Rosie.” 

 

Rosie freezes. She knows when her friends want something from her, and Carmilla has always appreciated that she doesn’t need to beat around the bush. 

 

“Carm.” Rosie relaxes into her seat as Zestial slides her a cup of tea. “How are you today?”

 

Perhaps Rosie is beating around the bush. That means-- Hmm. Carmilla and Zestial exchange a glance. That means that Rosie might already be with Lucifer. Very interesting. When it comes to love lives, Rosie has never been someone who kisses and tells. 

 

“Rosie.” Carmilla says again as she relaxes into her seat and gives Zestial a smile when he slides her a cup of tea. “Come on then.”

 

“Please, don’t ask.” Rosie groans and slumps in a most unladylike manner. That’s their Rosie. “I cannot believe those pictures leaked. At least I know I have friends in Pride to help with the mess.”

 

“You know Zestial wouldn’t publish if Dany said no.” Carmilla waves a hand after blowing over the tea. It’s still a touch too hot. “I’m surprised Daisy let the pictures get through her system. Usually she’s quite good about covering it up.”

 

“It leaked on the other Rings before it hit Pride and you know she can’t stop anything until it hits Pride’s bandwidth. Not yet anyway.” Rosie taps at the table and mutters quietly under her breath. “I should get that arranged actually.”

 

Is that how the internet works? Carmilla really doesn’t know. She doesn’t like to ask, and usually she just lets Clara handle those things. She’s a smart child and she knows her way around a problem. 

 

“Not to mention how fast it spread. Daisy can do many things, but she can’t stop everything.” Rosie nods and sips her tea. How is hers the right temperature but Carmilla’s is too hot? It’s unfair. “At least they’re good pictures. I could have looked frumpy. Instead, I’m wearing nice dresses with my makeup done.”

 

That is true. 

 

“Speaking of dresses.” Carmilla waits for Rosie to pick up on her hint, and the blush Rosie gets is a good sign that Carmilla’s assumptions are correct. “The sunflower dress?”

 

Rosie groans and holds her teacup in front of her face. “I made it years ago. It was just a spur of the moment thing.”

 

“And him matching?”

 

“You’re so mean to me, Carm.” Rosie puts down her tea cup and pouts. A grown woman. Pouting. “It was just a coincidence.”

 

Very believable. Carmilla snorts and finally, finally, gets to sip her tea. She stays quiet for a moment, letting Rosie stew in her non-reaction, and then says a small, “I see.”

 

Rosie scowls. She knows Carmilla, and that Carmilla does not believe her. Good. They’d been friends long enough that it’s good to not have to explain anything. At least someone understands. 

 

Zestial offers a huff of a laugh, but otherwise stays quiet. He would. He’s enjoying himself, and he gets to make the bet with Dany. Ah, Carmilla should ask about that after Rosie leaves. 

 

“Are you two together already?” She asks because Zestial likes to win his bets. And Carmilla also likes to win her bets, and she also cares about her friend. “Zestial has had to suppress a rumor or two about the King of Hell being seen in Cannibal Town?”

 

Rosie blinks. “But he’s arriving via port-- Carm, you’re a wet sock of a friend.”

 

Carmilla grins and sips at her tea. There were no rumors. Of course not, Rosie was being so very careful now. “Is he now? By portal you say?”

 

The glare she gets from Rosie is worth the information. More information is always good.

 

Rosie scoffs. “Yes. We’re still friends and we like to be in the same room. You know we like a good board game. We used to play until you banned Zestial from chess.”

 

Zestial deserves to be banned from chess, and his current little smile will not change her mind. No, he is far too destructive and will make people cry. He plays to win. 

 

“Yes, I did see the scrabble game photo as well.” It was a good one. Rosie looked so alive in those photos. She hasn’t looked that alive in a long time. Seeing her so happy had made Carmilla happy. 

 

Rosie is a friend. A long time friend who has seen a lot of ups and downs, just like everyone else in Hell, and to snatch a small bit of joy from this depressing place is a miracle. Carmilla would know, and she’s so happy her friend has that smile again. The one that’s real. 

 

“He’s as bad as Zestial when it comes to scrabble.” The sigh Rosie gives is an indication of many, many losses. “But at least he’s nice when it comes to chess. Even pretends that I -- Oh! Did I tell you I beat him in a chess game?”

 

“No!” Carmilla leans over the table. “Do tell.”

 

They pass the time listening to Rosie talk about Lucifer. She has a bit of a honey glow, her joy leaking out of her as bright as Heaven in the sky. Her stories meander from Gluttony (where the photos showed her trying all sorts of things) to Greed (where she met the Lures). Lust sounds… well, Rosie and Lucifer had decided to stay in for most of Lust and read, and that certainly sounds about right based on Rosie’s description of the vast number of stores and places to relax. Carmilla herself is not into sex that much.

 

Envy brings a hollowness to Rosie. A drop in her smile as she avoids talking about something that makes her sad. Makes her upset. Carmilla exchanges a look with Zestial. There’s a story there, and Rosie isn’t willing to tell. That means it’s a bad story indeed.

 

When Rosie mentions a child named August, who sounds like a wonderful young adult that just needs some good influence, Eden flicks her tongue out and Rosie pauses. She tilts her head, pats Eden, and then continues with her story.

 

Eden just talked to Rosie. Eden only talks to Lucifer. That’s so very interesting. And so very telling. 

 

Rosie only mentions two things when she brings up Sloth. Mini-golf, which does sound fun in Carmilla’s opinion, and a football game. 

 

“Do you think we could have a game? It seems like a lot of fun.” Rosie’s tea is empty as she leans over the table and seems to cast sunlight over the room. Carmilla has to blink the light from her eyes. “Zestial could be ref, I wouldn’t want him on the field. I would call Sunshine for my team of course, and Dany, but we could play against the Vee’s. Remind them why we’re the older Overlords who’ve lasted the test of time.”

 

Sunshine. That must be Lucifer.

 

Carmilla and Zestial exchange another look before she clears her throat. “I do not think that is a wise idea.”

 

Rosie scowls. “You’re just as bad as Lucifer. He said no too.”

 

“If Lucifer said no, why would you ask me?” Carmilla scoffs. 

 

With a sigh, Rosie stands and brushes off her skirts. “I need to head back. You sticks in the mud enjoy getting home.” She sticks her tongue out at them on her way out.

 

Zestial hums, a slight purr kicking up as soon as Rosie is entirely out of the room.

 

“Did you already submit your bets with Dany?” Carmilla sips her tea and meets Zestial’s eyes. His wide grin tells her that, yes, he’s already bet on the winning time and date for Rosie and Lucifer’s confession and first kiss. “Did she seem like she was glowing?”

 

“I saw what my Keen Blade has seen.” He reaches forward to grab his tea and sip. “A Sunshine drop, perhaps?”

 

No. Not possible. 

 

“I’ll bet on that.” Carmilla gives Zestial a grin. “I’m betting no.”

 

“The bet is on.” 

Notes:

We'll have meatier chapters coming up but gotta lay out all the players in the game, ya know?

Chapter 7: Alastor makes an Attempt

Summary:

Alastor actually tries.

Alastor

 

Charlie talked too much. Alastor is aware of this, but he speaks Charlie at this point and he can filter through the nonsense to grab key points. According to what Charlie said, falling out of love is easy. Easy as being an Overlord.

 

• Spend more time together (to see flaws)
• Get bad gifts (to show lack of belief in their character)
• Ridiculous nicknames (to show lack of respect)

 

He doesn’t know enough about love to say those won’t work, but they don’t seem like the proper way to fall out of love. It’s moments like this, where he’s sitting in his chair after a good show, that he really wishes it wasn’t ROSIE of all people that had become afflicted by this dastardly disease. 

 

Because anything that makes Rosie less Rosie is a disease. 

 

He bounces a foot and leans on an elbow. He certainly couldn’t just say to Rosie, “Spend more time with Lucifer and get him bad gifts.”

 

She would know in a heartbeat what he was trying to do. He has to change the wording. Charlie said too many words, and he was far better with words than she was, so he just had to… twist them a little. 

 

Time to visit Rosie. And hopefully he gets to keep his antlers.

 

///

Rosie

 

Alastor. He’s been on Rosie’s mind for a bit now. For a day and a half since Charlie’s conversation. Certainly, it’s quite normal for her best friend to be on her mind. But, there’s also the niggling feeling that he’s after something that’s hers and she doesn’t like it. When Alastor wants something, he gets something. He goes after it. He seeks it out and pins it down.

 

Rosie taps her pencil against her yellow notepad and hums. She can’t focus today. Can’t even think of anything to make her mind stop racing.

 

“Rosie?”

 

She starts and spins to see Dany’s pursed lips. Dany had been SO good to Rosie. She’d taken care of the town. She’d looked after Alastor. She’d run down stray vendors, torn apart Cannibal Town enemies, and kept everyone in the loop. 

 

And she refused to call herself Rosie’s friend.

 

“Are you okay?” Dany was supposed to be in the back until 10. Supposed to be. She’s here though, and Rosie has to try and sort through her thoughts. At least Dany could keep her grounded. Maybe she would ask Dany if she noticed something different about Alastor. Dany knew him quite well since Alastor’s presence has been a constant over the years. 

 

“Just fine. Alastor driving me crazy, you know how he is.” Rosie laughs when Dany rolls her eyes. 

 

“Don’t I.” Dany mutters and Rosie waves a pencil in her direction in agreement. “I did not threaten or kill him at all while you were gone, I deserve an award.”

 

“That you do.” Rosie nods and turns back to her pad. She writes down supplies for the Emporium. “He’s been off since I came back. Did something happen while I was away? Maybe he had a revelation or something?”

 

Dany’s spine stiffens. She laughs and it sounds a little fake. Odd. Dany doesn’t hide from Rosie. “He’s been himself. He’s just grumpy.”

 

Dany is gone before Rosie can ask more questions. It makes her tap at her paper pad. It makes her narrow her eyes where Dany had been a moment prior. It makes her itch. Alastor WAS different, and Dany knew it. Dany even knew why. She just didn’t want Rosie to know.

 

Dany only hides things from Rosie when she thinks it's for the best. 

 

Rosie doesn’t like it.

 

///

 

Alastor

 

Dany is at the counter when he arrives. She hisses at him. He hisses back. What’s WRONG with him? This is caused by Lucifer. He just needs to get Lucifer out of the situation and then everything will go back to normal.

 

“You!” Dany leans over the counter as soon as he gets close. “Start acting like yourself. You’re making Rosie worry.”

 

“I’m always myself.” Alastor puts on his sharpest and most charming smile. “Are you implying something, my dear?”

 

It’s then that Alastor sees the worry swimming in Dany’s eyes. She’s worried. About Rosie. Dany only worries when there’s something to worry about. After working with her for two months, he knows that Dany is quick to prioritize. She’s prioritizing Rosie right now. 

 

It’s worse than Alastor thought.

 

“You’re being too nice.” Dany mutters as she pulls away. “Rosie thinks you’re hiding something, and she’s right.” She huffs. “As per usual.”

 

He scoffs. They stare at each other. She taps at the counter, he taps his foot. “I owe her.”

 

“Which is why you looked after the Emporium. Which is why you’re being nice to ME despite your grumpiness.” She waves at the world around them, her pencil flung off into the ether. He uses a tentacle to grab it and place it back on the counter. “You suddenly deciding to give a damn about your debts after having accumulated them over a century is not OUR fault.”

 

“WAtch YoUr tonguE.” He leans into Dany’s space, but she doesn’t back down. Why would she? She’s essential. He can’t touch a hair on her head. “I have always cared about my debts.”

 

Worry. She’s so worried. It makes Alastor want to tear apart the Emporium and leave nothing but the foundations. He would never hurt Rosie in that manner. “Then figure out how to care and not make her pull her hair out in worry.”

 

Dany waves a hand at him. A dismissal he would not tolerate from anyone else. 

 

He huffs, spins on a heel, and leaves Dany to her nonsense thoughts about him not being a good friend. He will be. If he has to figure out how to kill the King of Hell, he will.

 

///

Rosie

 

She has pins in her mouth, a needle in her hand, when Alastor walks in. She raises an eyebrow at him and waves at the dress in front of her. She might not have her hat on to give him the sign of “go away” but he knows when she’s busy. Dany is at the front. 

 

“Apologies, Old Girl, I had a thought.” Alastor slides into the seat by hers, and she rolls her eyes in response. He’s here whether she wants it or not. “Involving your infatuation.”

 

Her hands stop and she carefully, ensuring she doesn’t prick herself and get blood on the fabric, she puts down the needle and takes the pins out of her mouth. “If this is about Lucifer, you can go away.”

 

He’s here about Lucifer. She can tell based on the twitch of his ears. She really doesn’t want to believe Charlie. She really doesn’t. If she does, then… She suppresses the tremor in her hands by pressing them flat against the dress and table.

 

“Look here, mister, if you’re telling me to--”

 

“Rosie.” He sounds a touch … not desperate. No Alastor would never come off as desperate, that would be a weakness of character, but he does sound like he wants her to listen. Like he needs her to listen. She closes her mouth and puts her hands in her lap. She can listen to her friend. “It’s been less than two years.”

 

He has a point. How long had Kay taken to worm her way in?

 

“I question whether you know him as soundly as you think.” That is also fair. He is the King of Hell and he has been around for thousands of years. Sometimes he slips up and says millions, and she’s starting to wonder how old the universe really is. “Perhaps. Perhaps we should work on getting to know him.”

 

She narrows her eyes at the ‘we’ in that sentence. He waves a hand to say he’s not done.

 

“More time spent together does wonders to figure out if you truly know someone. How long before our friendship became what it is today?” Decades. “Not to mention he’s such a needy thing. Why, he needed Charlie’s permission to fix the bathroom just an hour ago. Surely there are many things he’s needed that you’ve noticed?”

 

She blinks at Alastor. Lucifer does need things, doesn’t he? And she hasn’t been looking to see what those are since they got back. Oh, she’s been a terrible friend. He’s been quieter, he must need something specific. She’ll have to keep an eye on that. 

 

“And your nickname for him.” Sunshine? Lucifer is her Sunshine. “Rosie, dear, don’t you think you might be --” Words fail Alastor. Alastor of all people. Words fail many people. Bart is one of them, and Paul is another, but Rosie has never seen Alastor stop and stare at her with wide eyes and twitching ears. Oh, there’s something wrong. There’s something wrong and it has to do with Lucifer--

 

And Rosie REALLY doesn’t want to believe Charlie is right. She really doesn’t. 

 

“Getting in too deep, too fast?” Alastor is being too kind right now. Too soft. Not himself. She doesn’t like it. 

 

“We’ve already had a similar conversation.” They haven’t. But Alastor narrows his eyes as he tries to think of one, which gives her time to speak. “He’s a friend, Alastor. Let me have friends. You have your little hotel crew, I have Sun-- Lucifer. And we both have Cannibal Town. Is that really so bad?”

 

“You have Lucifer?” Alastor taps at the table. His emphasis on ‘have’ makes her twitch. She really doesn’t want to believe Charlie. “Having someone is different from being friends with someone, Rosie.”

 

Rosie tries to see Alastor. She really does. She tries to know him, understand him, and she thinks she does most days. Most, but not all. Today she’s having trouble seeing past the wide eyes and the words of Charlie playing in the back of her mind. She must be missing something. He can’t be-- He can’t be after Lucifer. Her Sunshine. 

 

She purses her lips. “It’s just like you to play semantics.”

 

That gets a bark of a laugh from him. “Radio Demon.”

 

“Mmm. Demon of bothering me during work.” Rosie turns to grab her pins and needle. Alastor backed off so quickly there. Perhaps Rosie is seeing things she shouldn’t. “Did you need anything else?”

 

The quiet settles as Alastor hums and looks around the room. She starts to put her pins back in her mouth so she can work quickly. Too many dresses to get done and too little time to do them. Orders from the seven Rings are coming in, to the point that she and Dany had to start rejecting them which is a first, and Rosie needs to keep up.

 

“So you’ll consider what I said?” Alastor never asked her that before. He always assumed she’s listening. As he should. Because she does. He’s acting differently. “Perhaps try to see Lucifer as he is? Instead of what he presents?”

 

Rosie talks around the pins she’s placed in her mouth. “Sure. Doesn’t hurt, right?”

 

He stands with a clap and brushes off his front. “Good! A Radio Demon is always right, you know.”

 

When he sinks into the shadows, Rosie stares at the dress and tries to understand why she didn’t see this before. 

 

///

 

Alastor

 

Rosie saw right through him. He knows she did. It was in her eyes. In the way she paused when he kept talking. And, the most heinous thing of all, his words failed him. He growls at the window of his room.

 

HIM! The Radio Demon. Lucifer is a terrible influence on them both. Losing WORDS. As if they aren’t part of Alastor’s very being. 

 

Rosie won’t do as Alastor asked because Rosie knows Alastor. He was off and he knows it. Not to mention that Rosie probably thinks she knows Lucifer. The easy method has been done then. The easy method of going to Rosie and trying to present a solid and fact based case has been tried. 

 

She saw through him. 

 

He messed up. 

 

“Roach King?” Nifty darts out of the vent in his wall. She’s been doing a good job at keeping the hotel in tip top shape. Unlike a certain someone. “I have done as you ordered!”

 

“Excellent.” He has no idea what he ordered, but he’ll take whatever Niffty offers. She is, after all, one of his best people. Not that he owns her soul, she just sticks around because she can. It’s a fun relationship. “And your results?”

 

“The Roach queen is in the vents.” Nifty giggles. “And the biggest Bad Boy told me I could get her. She can’t hide when he gave me speed shoes.”

 

The Biggest. Bad. Boy. Alastor feels an eye twitch. “Lucifer.” He growls and looks out at the Emporium. Lucifer and Rosie. Rosie and Lucifer. It makes him sick. “If Rosie doesn’t get her head together, I’m going to kill them both.”

 

Niffty blinks at him with big eyes and he sighs. He waves a hand. With a salute, she scurries back into the vents. Probably to find her roach queen. Or kill someone. Either works for him. 

 

What is Lucifer doing talking to Niffty in the first place? Nifty is ALASTOR’s soul, thank you very much. 

 

Alastor taps a finger against the shield of his microphone. Lucifer. The easy method to separate them had failed, because Rosie is far more clever than she is dumb, but Lucifer isn’t clever. He’s quite dumb. Yes, he was a good dancer and he was clever. Yes, he fixed Alastor’s microphone, but Rosie comes first. 

 

Rosie should have always come first. It doesn’t matter. Alastor is fixing it. 

 

Lucifer is dumb. But. He’s reasonable. Nice to Rosie. Cares. A little too much, some might say, which makes him easily manipulated. Maybe Lucifer is the easy method, and Alastor had been trying to take the hard path this entire time. Perhaps.

 

He squeezes his microphone cane as a few memories trickle into view. A bayou. Moon heavy, hanging low, with the waters sloshing and the spray sending the scent of salt into the air. The dance hall of white. The body of-- The body. 

 

Lucifer is not dumb. But he is certainly dangerous. Alastor will have to be careful.

 

///

Rosie 

 

She comes home to Lucifer humming. He’s moving around the dining room, putting down dinner plates, and she feels her heart thump against her rib cage. He’s so good to her. 

 

Has she been paying attention? Has she really grown so used to him in their (short when Alastor put it that way) friendship that she stopped trying to figure out what he needs? Alastor thought so. She’ll have to try a little harder. “Sunshine, a surprise? I thought we were cooking dinner together.”

 

He blinks at her, all bright and soft around the edges. What does he need? Rosie should figure that out. “I came home early to do the sun room measurements. Figured I’d cook a favorite.”

 

Sinner thigh steak. He would. 

 

Goodness, how quick and easy it is to fall into a routine with him. To fall into him and laugh. She needs to take care of him like he’s been taking care of her. After dinner, she asks, so carefully to not make it seem like he’s done anything wrong (he is such an anxious angel), “Have you been needing anything, Sunshine?”

 

“Moonlight?” He tilts his head as he grabs the empty dishes. “What could I need?”

 

She taps at the table as she thinks. “Oh, I don’t know. Just making sure you’re happy.”

 

She follows him. They do the dishes. He flicks water at her and she laughs. They’re side by side. When they’re about to go to bed, he sighs and looks at her and he is… SO SOFT and lovely. “I just want your friendship. How could I ask for anything more than that?”

 

Her friendship.

 

For some reason it feels like someone just tore out her heart. 

Notes:

He really did try!!!

Chapter 8: Be Better

Summary:

Lucifer knows he's not good enough for Rosie.

 Lucifer Morningstar. That’s his name. Don’t wear it out. 

 

He looks in the mirror of Rosie’s bathroom and tries to see the him that everyone else sees. King of Hell. He’s had many forms over the years. Some human, some less so, and each one had a bit of him in it. None of them were all of him, but he would take what he could get. 

 

The one constant had been his name. 

 

“Sunshine?” Moonlight pokes her head in the doorway; he had been taking too long in the bathroom. “Did you want something specific for breakfast?”

 

He rather likes being Sunshine. Her Sunshine. “Pancakes?”

 

She snorts. “The day you don’t want pancakes is the day I stop being a cannibal. Anything that I haven’t already made the batter for?”

 

He tilts his head and considers the options. He knows he enchanted the kitchen to have complete stocks of anything she could want or need, so the options really are limitless. “You have bacon, I’m assuming?” The quirked eyebrow tells him that’s a stupid question. Fair enough. “I’ve been craving something orange. Thoughts?”

 

She tilts her head and her hair falls past the shoulder it had been trapped on to make a curtain behind her. He quite likes her hair. “I could make an orange curd for your pancakes?”

 

“That sounds delicious.” He waves his wet hands at the sink. “I’ll wrap up here and come help you. Did you need help putting your hair up?”

 

“After breakfast, Sunshine.” She disappears from the doorway. 

 

Sunshine. He likes being Sunshine. He likes that she’s okay with being Moonlight. Rosie and Lucifer don’t sound nearly as nice as Sunshine and Moonlight.  Oh, damn. Is this love at first sight? Maybe. He certainly does love her. Hopelessly. And in the grand scheme of things, and in comparison to his very long life, something that’s lasted less than two years certainly feels like it was love at first sight. 

 

Oh, but it’s hard to NOT love someone who matches him blow for blow. Who laughs with him. Who sings with him. Who cooks with him and flings him around. Who doesn’t treat him like some King to bow to, but as a friend to be with. 

 

And he’s not even good enough for her. 

 

He looks in the mirror again. Lucifer Morningstar. Maybe one day he’ll be the Sunshine she deserves.

 

///

 

“Sunshine, those pets I want…” Moonlight is almost out the door, her smile twisted in the corner so he knows she’s teasing. But she deserves whatever he can offer, so he sticks his tongue out at her.

 

“Sun room?”

 

She blinks in surprise. Then, her smile bursts out of her like a star going supernova and he has to suck in a breath. “Really?”

 

“I’ll take measurements today. Reinforce the foundation.” Water is heavy. Heavier than people think. It’s why he and Leviathan spent so long figuring out how to build underwater. Well. That and other reasons. It’s never so simple as to have one problem. There’s always at least four and then some. “After I get back from work.”

 

“I was joking.” She darts over and gives him a quick squeeze hug. “But I ain’t a gal to say no to a good thing. Think about what you want for dinner.”

 

When she’s out the door, he sighs. 

 

///

 

Lucifer Morningstar. 

 

He hums as he bops around the hotel. There’s walls to repair, rooms to rearrange, residents to help, plumbing to fix, electricity to reroute, and so much more. Charlie doesn’t have a full staff yet, but he can keep on top of things fairly easily. It’s not like he hadn’t cleaned up whole towns before. A single hotel is nothing.

 

Lucifer Morningstar.

 

He prefers being Sunshine. 

 

“Hey, Short King.” Angel Dust leans over the bar top. Sunshine is better than that too. “Al said he was lookin’ for ya.”

 

He feels his entire being recoil and he knows Angel sees it because he laughs. Lucifer sighs. He should really try to get along with Moonlight’s best friend more. They got along for SOME reason, so there must be something about Alastor that’s either a) entertaining or b) a good friend. Moonlight has STANDARDS and when people don’t meet them, she doesn’t hesitate to do something about it.

 

He’s seen the way she looms over a cannibal who disobeyed direct instructions. Amongst other things. 

 

“Did he say why, perchance?” He taps at his cane. Alastor always wants something when they talk. It’s never because he just wants to spend time together. No, that would be too sentimental for the man (but Lucifer thinks of where they were before Rosie’s vacation and he’s starting to think he might be wrong about that).

 

“I thought you two were startin’ to get along?” Angel leans over the counter, the crease in his brow a show of genuine concern, and Lucifer hates to make other people worried. “He didn’t say nothin’, so it can’t be all bad.”

 

“We were.” Alastor is protective, and Lucifer has a feeling that this conversation is about a certain someone. Not to mention Alastor’s friendship with Lucifer had been in its very early stages. He takes time to befriend. Slowly. Surely. And Lucifer was barely into the process when the vacation came. 

 

And broken time is broken friendship. At least as far as Lucifer can tell. Alastor is a dime a dozen in terms of withdrawal from humanity. 

 

When Lucifer doesn’t offer more, really he’s in his head too much, Angel nods. “He has been real jumpy since ya got back. Somethin’ with tall, dark, and cannibal.”

 

“Dark?” Husk and Lucifer ask at the same time. They exchange a glance.

 

“You know! Dark.” Angel huffs. “The eyes, and the bones, and the black nails.” When neither of them respond he crosses his arms. “I ain’t wrong and you know it.”

 

“She does wear black lipstick.” Lucifer mutters. “I suppose. You’re somewhat right.”

 

“Hah!” Angel sticks his hand out. “Hand it over.”

 

Husk rolls his eyes and places a 20 in Angel’s palm. Lucifer has a distinct feeling he’s been played, so he rolls his eyes and leaves to do some electricity. He’ll get to be a mouse for a bit. He LIKES being a mouse. As long as Niffty isn’t around. 

 

///

 

He’s on top of a chandelier, a bulb in his mouth (birds aren’t as good at screwing in light bulbs so mouse hands it is), when Alastor drawls, “I do believe that form is how one finds themselves on the end of Niffty’s knife.”

 

Lucifer peers over the edge and sees Alastor looking up. There’s a tightness to his being. A twist in his smile that resembles a scowl. Mm. “Would you like to change the light bulb?”

 

“Hah-HA! No.” Alastor twirls his microphone cane. “Not when you’re already doing it and are so adept at the simple things.”

 

Was-- Was that a compliment? Lucifer needs a moment. That was a compliment. Right? Maybe. He pulls away from the edge of the chandelier to finish replacing the burnt out bulb. When he scurries back to the edge, dead bulb in his mouth, he stops, holds the bulb in his paws, and asks, “Can you catch this?”

 

“Certainly.” Alastor does catch it, and then it’s gone in a whirl of shadows into whatever trash can Alastor has in his little pocket dimension. “Do you always use a mouse?”

 

“Depends on the need.” Lucifer turns into a bird and flaps his way down, turning into his humanoid form with a flip and twist in the air to land on his feet in front of Alastor. Alastor is not Rosie. He does not get a ‘ta da’. “Being inside walls is easier in smaller forms.”

 

“I see.” Alastor taps at his cane. “Do you have time for a game of chess?”

 

There’s a blip of a thought in Lucifer’s head that he should deny it. Chess is with Rosie, but chess with Alastor WAS fun. In a different way. He tilts his head. “You just want coffee.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t object to a cup if you’re offering.” There it is. That’s the Alastor from before the vacation. The one that is a little more willing to give and get. Lucifer actually kind of LIKES that Alastor. “Remember the deal with the humidity!”

 

The twist of Alastor’s heel is a sign that the conversation can only continue once they’ve reached the little library nook. Lucifer doesn’t mind, he trots along, able to keep up mostly because he gives himself more powerful legs that can propel him a little faster, and hums. When Alastor joins him in humming, Lucifer smiles.

 

There’s the Alastor that Lucifer can be friends with. Now he just has to figure out how to keep that Alastor around. 

 

///

 

The little nook is perfect for hiding away from everyone. Just them in Lucifer’s room, a couple chairs, a small table, and books to drown out the world. He waves a hand and summons a chess set, a rolling tray with coffee and cannibal snacks, and lets the world around them turn into Alastor’s bayou. 

 

Lucifer hadn’t known how much of himself he’d let out of control until-- 

 

He stares at the chess board. He’d given himself the black set because Alastor preferred to go first. 

 

Maybe he should have listened to Bee. Then he wouldn’t be unable to sleep without Rosie by his side. He really had let himself go around the hotel. Around Rosie. Around everyone because it had been so long since he’d had to be a person. And it had hurt people.

 

“Ah. Winter.” Alastor leans back into his seat and closes his eyes for a brief moment before coming back to reality. Lucifer makes sure he’s pulled away. No smells, nothing but the bayou and the chess set between them. Alastor plucks the coffee from the tray. “You do make a decent enough cup of coffee that I tolerate your cheating. But try to not cheat.”

 

Lucifer snorts. “You being bad at chess is not me cheating.”

 

The way Alastor taps at his cup without giving a comeback tells Lucifer many things. One of which is that this meeting is not about chess. Alastor wants something. 

 

“Come on, Al.” Lucifer leans back into his chair and decides to let his chess pieces move without his hands. He needs to remind Alastor who he is on occasion. Small things work best. “You wanted to talk.”

 

“Me? Talk?” Alastor places a hand to his chest and gives a face of mock surprise. He scoffs. “Why, I invited you for a game of chess. No need to insult me by insinuating ulterior motives.”

 

They share a smile. It’s a simple thing. Just a moment of acknowledgement that they DO know each other beyond a passing word. 

 

“Well seeing as sitting in silence is boring, I did have a topic in mind while we play our game.” There it is. Lucifer waves a hand to indicate his willingness for this to continue. It’s better than dodging Niffty now that he’s charmed her shoes to make her extra fast. 

 

She almost got him earlier. 

 

Alastor taking a moment to consider his words is concerning. “You should not allow your emotional attachments to Rosie bring her down.”

 

Oh. Lucifer feels like he’s been turned inside out. He feels like there’s a black hole in his chest that’s eating up every bit of him. He feels like his entire being, inside and outside his avatar, is dying. “Oh?”

 

“She’s a busy woman. She has a town to take care of. She can’t afford silly distractions from people who are not worth her time.” While Lucifer had KNOWN he wasn’t worth her time, he had at least hoped he could enjoy being her friend. It’s starting to be hard to hold himself into a corporeal form. “You might be a King who can offer some substance, but there is your ability to become overly attached.”

 

Lucifer did become attached to people quite quickly. Part of his shtick really. 

 

There’s a switch in Alastor. A narrowing of the eyes that comes with him leaning over the chess board. 

 

“Do not bother Rosie.” Alastor growls, growls at Lucifer, and some part of Lucifer knows he should react to this. But. Moonlight is in the back of his mind, and he should be nicer to Alastor, and … Alastor is right. Lucifer isn’t worth Rosie’s time. “The inane nonsense that has filtered its way into her head is beyond ridiculous. Your affect on those around you is your burden to bear. Letting it affect Rosie is a sign of your incompetence.”

 

Lucifer takes in Alastor’s words. He wouldn’t normally. He has some Pride in him, and Alastor used to be another sinner on the pile. But after coming back into the world, seeing Charlie, meeting Rosie, Lucifer is starting to piece the parts of him together that care. 

 

Alastor stares at Lucifer. “You are a distraction.”

 

Lucifer moves a pawn forward and watches Alastor’s gaze snap to the chess board. He sets his coffee cup down. 

 

Lucifer isn’t worth Rosie’s time. He knows that now. He knew it before, but now he knows. He waits for Alastor to move his knight out from behind his defensive line, the first move Alastor always makes, before he moves out a knight as well. Lucifer doesn’t deserve Rosie’s friendship. He’s a distraction, at best.

 

“Rosie needs someone who supports her, not someone who pulls her away from her duties as an Overlord. She needs--” Alastor stops and stares once more at Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t think he’s ever heard Alastor stop talking before. “Damn you.” Alastor stands and points to the window that lets Lucifer see Cannibal Town. “She needs someone who lets her be herself behind closed doors. Someone who offers their time without restrictions.”

 

Oh, this is something Lucifer should pay more attention to. Alastor is telling him things Rosie needs. Right. Lucifer can work with that. He can work towards being good enough for Rosie. He can earn the right to be Sunshine.

 

“Someone who brings her things she needs rather than superficial nonsense. A pretty bauble is nothing to Rosie. Nothing. Though she does need a reminder of flowers on occasion.” Alastor starts to pace. “She needs someone who matches her energy. Who compliments her creativity. She needs someone she can bounce ideas off of.”

 

Hmm. That’s harder to do without using some of Rosie’s time. He does like talking shop with her about her clothing, writing, cooking, and anything else she wants to try, but it does take her time. Lucifer can do flowers though. And things she needs. She does need a new toaster! He could start there. He had been going to get one anyway. 

 

“She needs someone willing to tell her she’s overworking herself.” Lucifer snorts, and Alastor waves a hand in agreement. “She needs a fellow cook. A fellow artist. A fellow game lover. Damn. Damn. Damn.” More growls come from Alastor as his horns grow and green light flickers around the room. The bayou disappears so they’re in the library. A reminder to Alastor to watch that he doesn’t damage the books. “She needs someone who gives her what she gives them. She needs someone who gets along with her cannibals and knows them.”

 

It’s an impressive display of power that Lucifer is seeing. If it wasn’t directed at Lucifer for him not being what Rosie needs, he might clap and offer some feedback on where to shore up the weak points. Little bits of aura that were thinner than others. 

 

Hmm. He could get to know Rosie’s cannibals more. Dany and him already get along well enough. He likes Dany. Sarah is interesting, and he could get her more books for the library. The other day Mildred had asked if he could find her some modern dry erase boards to work with. He could talk to Hermosa and see if Mildred needs anything else. 

 

Ah. Rosie wanted to get Bart a new set of butcher tools as a celebration of the 120 year anniversary of his shop. Lucifer forgot to ask if Bart wanted angelic steel. OH! Daisy wanted to talk to him about computers. He could do that. He did sort of want to teach her more about soldering.

 

“She needs someone who lets her be an Overlord.” Let is a strong word there. Rosie IS an Overlord and Lucifer would rather eat a wing than try and stop that. She’s one of the good Overlords. As far as he knows. 

 

“She needs someone who is her friend first.” How could anyone NOT be her friend?

 

“She needs--” Alastor throws a tentacle in Lucifer’s direction and Lucifer bats it away with a huff. At least TRY to kill him properly. “She needs someone who gets along with her current friends.”

 

Lucifer can certainly try and get along with Alastor more. He’s working on convincing Dany she’s Rosie’s friend. 

 

“You.” Alastor advances on Lucifer. “Are a menace. You are the worst thing to have ever happened to her. How dare you be those things.”

 

It’s pretty easy for Lucifer to be the worst thing that ever happened to Rosie. Pretty easy. Just who he is. Alastor is right. The world is quiet for once. Lucifer’s head is quiet for once. He can’t make his voice anything but small, tiny, minuscule in comparison to the void in his heart. “Anything else I’m doing badly?”

 

“No. Unfortunately.” Alastor disappears into shadows, taking the green and dancing lights with him. His empty coffee mug and moved knight the only signs he was here. 

 

At least Alastor was a good friend to Rosie. He gave Lucifer some insight, and Lucifer will take it. He will need to try harder to get Rosie the things she needs. That way he can stay being her friend without bringing her down. Right. Okay.

 

• Flowers
• Gifts of what she needs
• Get along with cannibals. 
• Get along with friends (Alastor’s the tough one here). 
• Help with her hobbies/job/creativity

 

Oh boy, Lucifer has really fallen down as a friend. There were SO many things Alastor said she needed that he wasn’t providing. What else was there?

 

With a flick of his hand, Lucifer pulls out a notepad, the yellow kind that Rosie has turned him onto, and spins his fingers to pull a pencil from the pencil pocket dimension. He writes down everything Alastor said. Everything Rosie needs. Because if Rosie needs it, and Lucifer isn’t good enough, he can at least try to get her what she needs. 

 

///

 

He has his list. He has his plan. He needs to make sure Rosie is supported and happy and has everything she needs. 

 

“Moonlight?” He steps into the house, drops his keys off in the little bowl she put for him (he likes doing things by hand, and she never seemed to mind him taking up a little space), and puts his coat on the coat rack. “You home yet?”

 

“In the dining room!”

 

He steps through the living room to see Moonlight at the dining room table with her head in her hand and her pencil tapping at one of her notepads. She has another pencil in her mouth, that she likely had to take out to shout at him, and he sighs. Another order must have come in. He told her to stop taking them. 

 

Sliding into the chair across from her, he hums.

 

Moonlight sits up to pluck the pencil from her mouth with her free hand and twirls both of them in his direction. “I’m just designing.”

 

He sees the words on the pad and raises an eyebrow.

 

“Okay, so part of designing is writing down things that need to be done.” She puts the pencil back in her mouth, carefully so she doesn’t break it with her teeth, and talks around it as she goes back to writing. “I’m fine. Not even tired.”

 

She’s definitely tired. 

 

He hums.

 

“I will turn you into a stew.” She looks away from her writing long enough to narrow her eyes at him. She wouldn’t and she couldn’t even if she wanted to. “Stop it.”

 

“Stop what?” He gets up to make tea. Probably something without caffeine. Maybe something to put her to sleep. Chamomile?

 

“Being worried. I’m fine.” She yawns and the pencil in her mouth drops to the table. The speed in which she picks it up to put it back in her mouth is incredible. “Really.”

 

“How many orders did you do today?” He asks through the kitchen door. He doesn’t need to shout, he can just put one of his eyeballs next to her on the table. She glares at it. “And how many of Charlie’s uniforms did you finish?”

 

“I don’t like these questions.” She mutters as she continues to write. She ignores the eyeball. 

 

“Did you think about cooking dinner?” Lucifer continues to hum while his eyeball talks. “What would you like?”

 

She eyes him as he walks back into the dining room and sets her tea down in front of her. “That’s chamomile.”

 

“Congratulations.” He nods and slides back into his seat. “Your sense of smell is still wonderfully intact.”

 

“I want matzo ball soup.” She sighs and goes back to writing. “Would you mind cooking?”

 

“Not at all. As long as you don’t mind talking to an eyeball.” He stands up, letting his eyeball float around to look over her shoulder even when she bats at it. The eyeball speaks when he starts to cook. “I do believe I told you to stop taking orders from other Rings.”

 

“I’m fine.”

“You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake.”

“You yawned.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

He uses the eyeball as a form of headbutt. She turns to scowl at it. 

 

He sighs. “Alright, tell me about your day outside of you being far too busy.”

 

She goes back to writing. “Dany seems tired. I think I need to give her a vacation but she wouldn’t take it even if I offered.”

 

“She does tend to overwork herself.” Lucifer pauses as he drops a couple balls into the broth he’s made. “Like a certain someone I know.”

 

Moonlight doesn’t fight him on that. She knows she overworks herself, she just doesn’t try to stop it. He understands. It’s very easy. Taking on too much is part of being in charge sometimes. It sucks. She sighs. “Tell me about your day.”

 

“The usual.” He thinks some onions would be nice. She liked it last time he added them. “Fix some wires, change some light bulbs, beg Charlie to hire some staff. Deal with Alastor.”

 

“And you say I’m overworking myself.” Moonlight laughs and lets the pencil drop from her mouth onto the table. “Dealing with Alastor AND the hotel? That’s two full time jobs, Sunshine.”

 

“Yes, and I had to deal with Alastor wanting to talk to me about YOU.” He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t bring attention to the fact that he’s not good enough. That’s not a good idea. That’s a very bad idea. “He’s a good friend. Wanted to tell me what would make you actually happy. Thought I could do better.”

 

Stop. Being. Honest. Lucifer. He KNOWS how to lie. Why isn’t he lying?

 

“You could do better?” Moonlight whispers as stares at the eyeball. He hums in response. Yeah. He could do better. Do more. Rosie was worth it. “Did he really tell you that you could do better?”

 

“Unfortunately.” Lucifer sighs and brings out the soup. “Sometimes I think he’s antagonistic but has a good heart about it. Hard to tell with him.”

 

Moonlight looks heartbroken. He supposes she doesn’t like her friends not getting along. 

 

“I’ll work on being nicer to him.” He whispers as he puts down the soup. “Maybe if we get along more, everyone would be happier.”

 

The tapping of Moonlight’s pencil speeds up and she bites her lip. He wonders what’s wrong. She has a question in her eyes, he can see it, but before he can ask there’s a knock on the door. It’s dark out. The streetlights are on. He looks over his shoulder, but Moonlight is already moving. Fair enough. No one likes to be left waiting outside in the cold. 

 

The door opens, and Lucifer lets his eyeball float closer. He’d rather not be seen right now. He’s tired. 

 

“Sarah?” Moonlight blinks at the cannibal on her doorstep. Sarah. Librarian. Lucifer thought of her earlier, or he might not have remembered that. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you usually asleep by now?”

 

Sarah bounces on her feet and leans in a touch. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood!” Rosie’s home is out of the way, it is NOT in a neighborhood. “And I saw your light on.” That one is fair. “And I thought I’d come by and say hi.”

 

“If you want to make a bet, you can just say so.” Moonlight snorts and waves a hand at the eyeball. The eyeball’s pupil expands to plop her notepad and pencil in her hands. 

 

“That’s rude, Rosie!” Sarah scoffs. “Pleasantries are important. I do care about you, you know.”

 

Moonlight waves a hand. “I told you to come by anytime. Did you want to come in?”

 

“No, no, I know you’re probably wrapping up dinner. Sorry, I would have come later, but I didn’t want to come when you were asleep.” Sarah gives a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

 

“Hah, as if I’m going to bed anytime soon.” The wink offered has Sarah back to her bouncing self. “Bet?”

 

“Are the Dany dating bets still open?” Sarah leans in to whisper more. “I want to bet on the reveal being within the next two years. I already sent Veron the cash. Three thousand.”

 

“The Dany bets are open.” Moonlight mutters. “Two years? That’s pretty close, Sarah. She’s kept it close to her chest for a long time now. What did you see?”

 

Sarah makes a zipping motion across her mouth and throws away the key. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“You saw something.” Moonlight wiggles the pad at Sarah. “Spill.”

 

“Bye, Rosie!” Sarah spins and hops away. “I’ll see you around!”

 

“I know where you live!” The shout Moonlight offers is said with a smile. She closes the door and tosses the pad into the air so it disappears when it hits the eyeball. “I’ll ask Harold tomorrow.”

 

“Harold is a gossip, but he doesn’t like to gossip about Dany.” Lucifer appears beside his Moonlight and starts to direct her towards the dining room. He removed her work supplies and left just the food. “He’ll tell Paul and Daisy, I would go to Paul.”

 

“Mmm.” She nods. “You’re very right. Do you think a day and a half for Paul?”

 

“He’s booked out this week, maybe try next week?”

Notes:

Y'all are being so nice to meeeeee, thank you <3

Trying to make Alastor realize that Lucifer is good for Rosie while also not SAYING that was a fun challenge, can I just say.

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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 16 of A Rose in Sunshine