Chapter Text
Alastor paced nervously in the hotel lobby. He had about 30 minutes before Lucifer popped up from whatever meeting he was having with the Sins. He would retreat to his own room, but his room changed positions dependent on his mood. It was impossible to find it if you weren't him, or didnt know where to look.
And after last time, Alastor has added some wards to his room that prevent any teleportation access unless you were him or with him.
So Alastor continued to wear a hole into the floor with his every step. He must've crossed the lobby 28 times in perfectly even and counted steps, stopping in perfect sync to the beat of whatever song and dance he had singing in his head.
Vaggie hadnt even tried to stop him, a withering glare and a redirection of Niffty stopped her dead in her tracks. Charlie was much the same, except Alastor had Vaggie on his side who redirected the young lady to other miscellaneous hotel tasks.
Angel and Husk were flirting and circling eachother in an misdirection of dating and love and all the mushy things that Alastor tried to ignore while he waited for Lucifer.
As if the thought of the devil summoned him, Lucifer flew through the doors and slammed into Alastor with a hug that left Alastor feeling pleasantly breathless. With little thought to the other two couples watching him, or Niffty scrambling around attempting to take pictures of the ship, Alastor swung Lucifer around to disperse the kinetic energy. It took little effort, as much effort as it took to just take the man still clinging to his middle, wings and all and just carry him to his hotel room. Stepping straight into a shadow and walking out into the hotel room he practically called home.
The room had direct connect to his broadcasting tower, and the little bayou he created as a getaway from the rest of hell. With soft wet grass and a deep blue sky's, little fireflies that never died. It was perfect for what Alastor had prepared. A picnic.
It was on the wet grass. Which was not ideal to Alastor who preferred the little table and chairs he brought into his room but he digressed. The blanket was red and white plaid, or so he was told, he had no real idea. The blanket was large, Alastor made sure both he and Lucifer could lay comfortably. No matter the direction they choose.
On the blanket was a small assortment of foods. Sweet rolls, mac and cheese, and ham drizzled with apricot jam. All fresh, with Alastor painstakingly picking out the individual apricots months prior when they were in season, to make the jam he used today. He tasted the sauce and knew his efforts were well worth it.
Along the blanket was a basket of yarn. He had picked up a variety of yarn not even a week ago with Kage, and had Angel help him sort through to pick out the yellows and reds that he wanted. Two crochet hooks with proper grips for comfortable use for his claws and Lucifer's fingers sat in the basket next to the scissors. Not too far from the blanket, Niffty had set up the fancy TV, the nice one with access to the streaming services that Alastor was 80% sure that Lucifer pirated because he believed in TV as much as he believed Vox. Which was not at all.
Alastor had already pulled up their favorite medical murder mystery. It was queued for season 3, episode 12. Alastor had listened previously to a radio host from the human world complain about the show, but Alastor cared not their complaints. So long as Lucifer liked the show, he would too.
Speaking of Lucifer, Alastor set the man down on the blanket as Kage dimmed the lights to a tolerable level and the fireflies came to life. And Alastor smiled. Not his charming radio host smile. No, it was softer, kinder. He laid on the blanket next to Lucifer, curling around
The show could wait. He had all of time in the afterlife to watch it and complain about the characters and their obvious stupidity while crocheting a million and one granny squares or embroiding a new duck onto Lucifer's jeans.
He had all the time in the world.