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serasfanfiction · 1 year ago

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One afternoon, around the time Charlie was midway through the toddler stage, Lucifer had found himself spending the better part of one of her play dates in the shape of a mouse.

Charlie had been such an easy baby. She rarely cried or got upset. Most of the time when she did cry, it was for the usual things: she was hungry. She wanted to be held. Her diaper needed to be changed. She largely spoiled her parents as much as they spoiled her.

All of this wasn't to say that she didn't have her bad days.

The discovery had largely been an act of desperation. Lilith was away dealing with a matter involving Mammon that required the firm handling of a member of the ruling family. Lucifer had assured her he could look after Charlie for the day. They would be fine. It has seemed like it would be, too.

Then Charlie had started to cry. Started to cry and she wouldn't stop. Nothing he had tried had helped. Out of sheer desperation, he had shapeshifted into the form of the first animal he could think of.

At first, Charlie had stopped crying mostly out of confusion. She hiccupped, confused as to where her father had gone and what this new addition was. She had never seen any Earth animals and wouldn't have known that her father had turned himself into a duck. Because she was a curious thing, she had reached out one of her little hands to snag this new thing she'd discovered. Whatever had ailed her promptly forgotten. Lucifer had allowed himself to be squished and prodded for a few hours and in exchange, Charlie returned to being a happy baby.

So began the act of taking on the forms of Earth animals, both as a distraction and as a teaching tool.

For a while, it was her favorite pass time. Living in Hell as they were, it was hard to expose Charlie to positive things the majority of Earth children took for granted. Most of her experience with animals were the forms sinners took upon arriving, something that could give her a warped impression of what animals were supposed to look like. His favorite form was indeed the duck, but he was more than willing to take on other forms, such as cats, dogs, horses, and other common animals. He sometimes had difficulty with his snake form in the beginning, attached to some traumatic memories as it was, but he had endured the form for educational purposes.

The play date had been Lilith's idea. She had been keeping up ties with the Ars Goetia and had thought it would be good idea for Charlie to play with some other children her own age. Lucifer had thought the idea of being around a gaggle of hyperactive, screaming children had sounded exhausting, but had gone along with it. One thing led to another, and Charlie had strong armed him into showing the other children what a 'mouse' looked like. Mostly by repeating the word 'mouse' until he'd given in and transformed into one.

The other adults, Lilith being the exception, had been hesitant with the idea of the children treating him like a plaything. Lucifer may have been pulling away from his duties for centuries at this point, but he was still the literal King of Hell. What if one of the children did something to upset him and he decided there needed to be some sort of retribution?

Lucifer had thought they were making too big of a deal out of it. They were children. They were going to act like children. He understood that. They understood that. He wasn't going to harm the children for acting like children. He was a bit insulted they thought he was ruthless enough to hurt them for it.

Charlie - dear, sweet Charlie - had brought the whole debate to a resounding close when she had dropped his little mouse form into the hands of one of Paimon's random children. This set off the other children to want a turn and that had been that.

Another side effect of being born and growing up in Hell was that none of the children, Charlie included, understood that small Earth animals were breakable. This wasn't an issue, as Lucifer was still the strongest being in Hell regardless of his form, but he did protest to being stuffed into one of the children's pockets after the third time it happened. The play date had quickly morphed into a mini lesson in teaching the children to be gentle when handling 'fragile' things.

He let Charlie do it because she was his daughter, but what parent didnt give their children special privileges, right?

All of this was to say that Lucifer's current predicament wasn't an altogether new experience, he just couldn't quite understand how he had come to be in snake form, curled up around Alastor's arm and wrist and just barely hidden by his coat sleeve as they made their way through Pentagram City.

He would have liked to blame it on Alastor. To say it was his own fault and that he could suffer a little as a result, thank you very much. As much as he hated it, that wouldn't have been the full truth.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

The events that led up to his current predicament could be traced more immediately back to that morning. It had been determined that the time had come to tell Rosie and Carmilla about the upcoming broadcast. After days of planning and ironing out the finer details of the broadcast itself, it had felt good to finally be moving forward. They had gotten lucky there had been no additional attacks on the hotel during this time, but there was never any way to know how long their luck would hold out.

"Carmilla won't thank you for telling her," Vaggie pointed out from where she was lounging on the couch. "She could care less as long as it's not Heaven on her doorstep."

Charlie, who was sitting up against her side, had a different opinion on the matter. "Aw, I think it's nice! It feels like we have real allies now!"

"Exactly," Alastor chimed in, smug that Charlie agreed with his assessment and more than happy to rub it in. Vaggie glared at him. The only reason she wasn't breathing fire was because she was literally incapable of doing so. Fed by her reaction, Alastor added, "Telling our allies about our plans builds trust and makes them feel included. We wouldn't want them to think we're accusing them of anything, now would we?"

Charlie shook her head vigorously. Vaggie had refused to give any further input out of spite.

Lucifer, taking pity on her, redirected the conversation. "Yes, which is why we should get going." He pointed to the front door with the apple tip of his cane. "Soon."

Charlie had perked up at the 'we.' Since the catastrophe that was the aftermath of Alastor and Lucifer striking their second deal, she had doubled down on trust building exercises. It was debatable if they had made things any better or worse. "You're going together?"

Lucifer opened his mouth to give an affirmative, only to be interrupted by Alastor interjecting with, "Hm. About that."

The blonde crossed his arms, instantly suspicious. "Excuse you?" They had talked about this. He was going.

Alastor circled the little king, coming to stand just out of arms reach. He waved his microphone to encompass all of Lucifer's person. "Just think about it, your Majesty!" His tone was that of an adult talking to a small child. "You're such a rare sight to be seen around the city, people are bound to notice you immediately! Why, they're likely to guess something is afoot from the get-go." Ignoring the glare Lucifer was giving him, Alastor tutted at him. "No, no, it would be much better if I went on my own."

Lucifer didn't buy that for a moment. It was more likely Alastor wanted to control the narrative and the less of that the better. Meeting him grin for grin, he countered, "If we're so keen on building trust, wouldn't it be better if their king showed up in person to thank them?"

Inching closer in his irritation, Alastor stared down his nose at him. "Will they? After all, you've been absentee so long: does your opinion matter anymore?"

Charlie sighed, cutting their momentum short like the bursting of a balloon. Lucifer's eye twitched, remembering that he had indeed promised to work with Alastor, but he was making it so hard to do so! And he knew it, too! The king was tempted to yank on Alastor's chain, literally, even if neither of them had done anything to violate the terms of it. Alastor had agreed to stand with Lucifer during the broadcast, but nothing said he had to cooperate at any other time. It wouldn't have accomplished anything other than making Lucifer feel better in that moment. He only didn't do it was because Alastor was going to have his teeth in him at some point in the future and Lucifer didn't want to encourage any ideas of taking revenge during a vulnerable moment.

In a move that should have been a warning, Charlie gasped, a single finger going up in the air as a preverbal light bulb went off over her head. "Oh! I know just the thing!"

Lucifer softened his grin into a supportive smile as he turned to her. "What have you got for us, sweetie?"

Oblivious to the choas she was about to unleash, Charlie suggested, "What if dad shapeshifted into a mouse or something? Then he could just hide in your pocket and no one would see him!" She smiled at them, clearly believing this to be a good idea.

Lucifer's smile became frozen on his face. He had never regretted using his abilities to help educate her on Earth animals. He still didn't. He just kind of wanted to. All he could imagine was himself in the form of a tiny white mouse and Alastor towering over him as he prepared to stomp on him. He shuddered at the mental image. Oh, that really wouldn't do. Nope.

Alastor's face went through a range of emotions. He didn't shudder himself, but it was clear that he had wanted to, as he shot that one down without holding back. "Ha! Absolutely not!"

Vaggie, ever spiteful, was never one to miss an opening when she spotted one, and boy, was she spotting one. "What's the matter? Don't like mice?"

Alastor, however, had already recovered and if there was ever a master of taking advantage of opportunities, it was him. "Oh, but don't you know? Everyone knows mice and rats are known for carrying diseases. Who would want to carry such a vermin around?"

Charlie wasn't ready to let go of the idea just yet. "What about something around the wrist then? Like a snake?"

The redheaded sinner looked just as thrilled with this idea as the last, possibly even less so. Normally, Lucifer would have been sympathetic about his distaste for being touched, but his patience was running dry. Feeling malicious, he drawled, "Hmmm, I think that might work."

Alastor slowly turned his head around to face him, the rest of his body not following. Head tilting at an alarming angle, his voice deceptively calm, he asked, "Come again?"

Lucifer crossed the short distance between them, Alastor's head turning to follow him as he approached. With every inch he came closer, the redhead's smile grew a little wider, somehow going past what should be humanly possible for his face. Lucifer stopped when they were nearly chest to chest. He stared up at Alastor through his eyelashes, smile anything but innocent. "What's the matter? Is the big, bad Radio Demon scared of little ol' me?"

Alastor's pupils transformed into radio dials; eyes and smile lit up and bordering on manic. His fingers tightened around his microphone, as if imagining wrapping them around something else entirely. Calling his bluff, the redhead held out a wrist, snarling through gritted teeth, "Dear me, who am I to complain about wearing the King of Hell as jewelry?"

Lucifer nearly laughed in his face, thinking it adorable that Alastor seemed to believe that the worst thing he'd ever wrapped himself around was someone's wrist. Not waiting for the sinner to change his mind, the blonde shifted into the shape of a snake, his little top hat and bow the only thing giving him away as anything other than the real thing. He was quick to slither up Alastor's wrist, slipping under the sleeve until he was completely covered. He wriggled up the arm, trying to get comfortable. He paused when a hand wrapped tightly around him, the tightening of the grip threatening to become crushing.

He couldn't see anything but the red of Alastor's coat sleeve, so he couldn't judge his expression, but it was clear from his tone it was taking every ounce of his not inconsiderable self-restraint not to rip Lucifer off and fling him around the room. "I would appreciate it if you didn't go any higher than my gloves."

Lucifer was just at the edge of the glove in question. Just to be contrary, he flicked a tongue out, just enough to disturb the fur of Alastor's bare arm. Static screeched through the air and the hand around him tightened, compulsively, the sharp points of the redhead's claws held back only by the fabric of a coat tailored to withstand the typical violence one would expect in Hell. Not necessarily taking pity on the sinner, but deciding to uphold the illusion of peace, the fallen angel pointed out, voice not even showing a hint of strain, "I can't move back down unless you lighten up there, buddy."

The pressure around him increased, briefly, before very, very slowly decreasing. When he was free to move again, Lucifer slithered his way back down away from the top of the gloves, finally settling near the wrist, but not down far enough to be seen. His head settled against the inside of the wrist, the vibrations of Alastor's pulse a soft melody in his ears.

"Dad, are you alright?" Charlie's voice sounded a little closer. Had she gotten up off the couch?

"All set when Alastor's set." Lucifer gave a light, full body squeeze to show he was ready.

There was a pause, Alastor tense as a board. Slowly, he forced himself to relax until the only one who could likely tell he was still a potential live wire was Lucifer and that was only because he was literally clinging to him. "Yes, I do think it's time to leave. Don't want to keep Rosie waiting."

Charlie's voice was closer still and Lucifer could see her pant legs and shoes appear in his limited vision. "Are you sure you're okay, Alastor? If this is too much--."

Alastor was quick to cut her off, always allergic to showing any kind of weakness. "Don't worry, my dear, it's only for a short period. Nothing I can't handle." He must have tried to wave off the concern, because Lucifer suddenly felt a rocking sensation that nearly turned his stomach. He had never experienced motion sickness before, but was fairly certain this is what it must have felt like. Could snakes be sick? Oooooh, they were going to find out if Alastor kept this up.

Thankfully for all of them, the redhead seemed to remember his passenger and stopped. The landscape outside the sleeve changed as he headed for the door and the blonde closed his eyes in an effort to block out the dizzying effect of it. With a, "Don't wait up for us," they were off.

Which was how Lucifer came to find himself clinging to Alastor's wrist, lulled into a partial doze by the warmth of his hiding place and the general sounds of the city.

It was strange to listen to the city like this: present, but muffled. The rhythm of Alastor's gait soothed his stomach. Lucifer could hear the general hustle and bustle that made up the active and ongoing crime wave that never seemed to end, just move from block to block. The crash of breaking glass. The sounds of explosions in the distance. The escalating shouts of a fight that hadn't yet come to blows. The gift of free will, taken to it's worst heights.

The Devil's kingdom in all it's glory.

Hah. What a joke.

Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts by the jingling of a bell over head. He dared to peak open an eye to the sight of tiled floor. Were they there already?

Alastor answered that question, while raising several others. "Smithson, good chap, I've come to place an order."

An order? Where were they?

The ringing of metal hitting wood sounded through the air. A nervous, masculine voice followed. "A-Alastor!" An audible gulp. "Wh-What are ya lookin' for?"

The redhead came to a stop. Lucifer made the mistake of scenting the air, looking for more clues to their current where abouts. He instantly regretted it as the heavy smell of raw meat, so fresh the scent of blood hung in the air, hit him like a ton of bricks. Coupled with the sounds he heard earlier, the blonde concluded they must have stopped in a butcher's shop. He was never so glad as he was in that moment that he didn't actually need to breathe as he held his breath to avoid the smell.

"I'm looking to pick up a gift for a friend of mine." A pause, broken by a considering hum. "You don't happen to have anything similar to what I picked up two weeks ago, do you? She absolutely loved it!"

A shuffle from the direction of the person - Smithson? - tending the shop. "Uh, no. Pickin's from 3rd street dried up." Another shuffle, this time uneasy.

Alastor made another considering noise. "A shame. Very well, then something fresh. Perhaps some ribs? We're not picky about the bones."

Lucifer full-bodied shuddered. Knowing the redhead and his friend's tastes, he had the horrible sinking feeling he knew what kind of meat was sold in this place. Even if he hadn't been a vegetarian, he was certain he'd be more than a bit sickened.

Something heavy hit the counter. "I just got this in today!" Smithson sounded rushed, almost nervous. "Nice and fresh, just like you wanted."

A rustle of clothing and what could be seen of the counter got closer. A faint sniff followed. Lucifer felt Alastor stiffen. "Smithson," a dangerous undertone crept into the redhead's otherwise pleasant voice. "You wouldn't be trying to pull a fast one on me, now would you?"

Lucifer could see a blurry figure through the glass counter shift from foot to foot. "No. No of course not--"

The air around them grew heavy with static, reality warping harshly. Lucifer hissed as the vibrations pierced his skull with all the kindness of a hammer to an ice pick. It made him want to sink his teeth into the vulnerable flesh of the Radio Demon's wrist and bite and bite until Alastor stopped because it hurt.

"Because if you are, I will eat your limbs joint by joint until you beg for mercy," Alastor continued, not liking the response. With every word, the filter over his voice got more distorted. "And I have none."

Smithson whimpered. Lucifer squeezed the redhead's arm, hoping to bring him back.

As abruptly as it started, reality returned to normal. Lucifer tentatively loosened his hold. His head throbbed.

There was a long pause. Lucifer could smell the distinct aroma of pee, suggesting Smithson had pissed himself. A second sound of something hitting the counter eventually followed a bit of shuffling around behind the counter.

Alastor sounded much more pleased after inspecting it. "Much better, my good man. Now, what do I owe you?"

"N-nothing. I-it's on the house."

Alastor took up the package, the paper crinkling as he did so. "Very good! Always a pleasure doing business with you, Smithson!"

The whimper from the butcher indicated he would very much like to never do business with Alastor again.

The redhead murmured a jaunty tune to himself as he left the shop, taking another whiff of his prize as they set on their way again. The raised arms allowed Lucifer to peak out of his sleeve to give him a judgmental look. "Was that really necessary?"

"Of course!" Alastor responded, as if his overreaction was totally normal. "I'd say I did him a favor. Poor customer service is bad for business." He freed one hand to bop Lucifer on the nose, causing the snake to recoil and hiss at him. "Now, hush, sire. Everyone knows I'm insane, but I don't want everyone to think I talk to myself."

Lucifer wanted to comment that it was a perfectly normal thing to talk to yourself, but didn't want to risk a talk about the part where it tended to happen the longer one was alone. He didn't particularly want to open that can of worms.

The rest of the walk was uneventful, blessedly, giving time for Lucifer's headache to abate and disappear. No one approached Alastor as he passed, and there appeared to be no more detours.

The first indication that they were near their destination came with the general change in ambient noise. The sounds of violence tapered off, giving way to calm, friendly conversations and the laughter of children. Lucifer could swear he even heard music being played from somewhere.

Unable to resist, Lucifer peaked out of Alastor's sleeve. The town - Cannibal Town, a sign nearby proclaimed - was a tribute to an era gone by. Lucifer's grasp on what counted as "modern" on Earth was dodgy at best, but even he could tell that the fashion and look of the town was "old-fashioned." He couldn't pin down the exact time period the dresses and suits were from, although he could tell they appeared to be from an older time period then Alastor's own sense of fashion.

A child, eyes black and face almost inhuman, turned at just the right time to make eye contact with him. Lucifer grinned and winked at their confusion, before the child was quickly distracted by the game their friends were playing.

Alastor paid little attention to the people around him, headed for a single building at the center of the town that read, "Rosie's Emporium." Guessing from the name, Lucifer found it safe to assume that this was their destination. Not wanting to be spotted by anyone else, he withdrew back into his hiding place, content to wait until his cue to show himself.

Alastor soon came to a halt, roughly the correct amount of time having passed to have come to the emporium. Lucifer heard what sounded like knocking on a wooden door. They did not have long to wait, with almost no time at all having passed before the door opened.

"Alastor! Come in, come in!" A woman's voice, cheerful and upbeat. Rosie, perhaps? He could see the black and red hem of a dress swishing into view as Alastor was ushered into what appeared to be a brightly lit room. There was the sound of crinkling paper passing from one of them to the next, as Alastor presumably handed over his gift. "With all this secrecy," the voice went on around the sound of a package being set down, "I would have thought we were expecting the king!"

Lucifer refused to feel bad about crashing their little dinner party. He did give props to Alastor for emphasizing the importance of keeping this information on the down low.

Without seemingly pausing to breathe - did Rosie need to breathe? You could never tell with some Sinners - she noted, "And your cane! Now you really must tell me everything!"

Patient on a level Lucifer usually only saw him reserve for Charlie, Alastor placed his cane, tip down on the floor, folding his hands over the top of it in what the blonde was coming to recognize as his default position. "I believe most of your questions can be summed up by first meeting our guest."

"Oh?" Hard to tell from a single word, but her tone suggested she was curious rather than annoyed at the unexpected curve ball.

The redhead moved the arm with Lucifer clinging to it until it was held out to his side, palm up and lazily pointed at the ground. Able to catch the hint and recognize his cue, Lucifer slithered down and off, his reptilian brain protesting leaving his nice warm perch. Grin in place, he let himself fall, twisting in place as he did. Once he was an acceptable distance from the floor, a simple shift and a poof of smoke, and BAM! Instant King of Hell.

The perks of the little poof also allowed him to settle down into his own default stance. 'Socially Awkward' may have been his middle name of late, but he hadn't completely lost the ability to make a decent first impression. Eyes adjusting to the light, Lucifer got his first look at the Overlord known simply as Rosie.

A tall woman stood before him, similar in height to the Radio Demon off to his left. Large, black eyes gave her away as a cannibal like the residents of the town. Her smile, partially hidden by deceptively dainty hand, was full of teeth sharp enough rip through through the toughest flesh and bone. Her dress and hat were perfectly coordinated, that same old-fashioned look as the town outside.

Lucifer wondered if she was responsible for the theme.

"Oh my stars," she said, not missing a beat. It seemed it would take much more than a surprise royal visit to ruffle her feathers. "Alastor, you've certainly peaked my curiosity."

Alastor's ear twitched, the only sign of his irritation. Voice full of genuine warmth, he said a touch grandly, "Your Majesty, may I introduce my dear friend and fellow Overlord, Rosie."

Rosie, in response, dipped into what Lucifer identified as a curtsy. Human gestures of respect were an ever changing thing. He'd received anything from people throwing themselves, full bodied at the floor at his feet (unnecessary and a little cringe unless he was pissed) to something as simple as a bow (way more acceptable). Curtsying was fairly new in his experience, only from the last several hundred years and something he had only seen a handful of times. From what little experience he did have, he could tell it had been a perfectly executed curtsy, the motion fluid and practiced. It gave the impression she was used to entertaining people of high social status.

Alastor, voice notably less full of respect (and what was there was so far from genuine it was outright insulting), said, "Rosie, may I introduce our King, Lucifer Morningstar."

No embellishments, but no insults. Lucifer supposed this was an improvement from the person who'd insulted his height within minutes of meeting him.

He crossed the short number of steps separating them, reaching out to take Rosie's hand in his own. Smile sly and his voice dropping, he offered, "It's always a pleasure to meet such a beautiful lady." Following up the compliment, he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand.

"Oh, aren't you the charming one," Rosie near coo'ed, her grin widening. Her eyelids dropped to half mast, her expression suggesting she'd eat him alive if he gave her half the chance. Which, considering how she made her way to Hell in the first place, wasn't an empty threat. "I can see where Miss Charlotte gets her moxie from."

Lucifer barked out a laugh, releasing her hand as he stepped back. "Oh, I assure you, Charlotte is a force unto herself with no help from me." Unless one counted the bare minimum of donating their genes.

Behind him, Alastor grunted in disgust, the action barely more than a heavy exhale. Lucifer winked as Rosie's eyes crinkled with her amusement. "If you are done assaulting the dear lady," the redhead said with a sharp tap of his cane on the floor. "I believe you came here for a reason." Voice dripping with annoyance, Alastor added, "You were quite insistent about it."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and pointed a finger over his shoulder, as if to ask, 'can you believe this guy'?

Rosie was the very picture of neutrality, taking no sides in the way only a true friend could. It was obvious she found watching them bicker to be entertaining.

Ignoring the glare he could feel practically burning a hole in the back of his head, Lucifer said, "Charlie and Alastor told me that you were instrumental in getting the army together to defend the Hotel. You have my gratitude for protecting my daughter when I could not." He pulled his hat from his head, pressing it to his chest as he bowed deeply before this sinner who had likely only helped his daughter for her own reasons, but who had helped, nonetheless. "I owe you a debt."

Hands came to rest lightly on his shoulders, pressing against them and urging him to rise. "None of that, your Majesty," Rosie murmured, kindly. "Miss Charlotte convinced that stubborn group to join her with little help on our end." She took his hat from him with little resistance, before placing it back on his head. He could feel the pat she gave the top of it. She gave him a short inspection, before nodding to herself. She shot a look in Alastor's direction over his head. "You certainly know how to surprise a girl, Alastor. First a princess and now a king." Her tone was teasing as she said, "If I didn't know you were drawing all aces, I'd think you were going for a Royal Flush."

Lucifer could only imagine whatever look the redhead was giving her in return. He was given little time to ponder her comment, let alone boggle at someone teasing the Radio Demon and getting away with it, before she was spinning him around towards the interior of the shop. "Uh," he managed, only mildly indignant when she all but handed him off to Alastor, whose expression appeared tolerant in the brief second he managed to catch a glimpse of it. The redhead, in perfect tandem with his friend, curled his hands around the blonde's shoulders and began to push him along. "You play cards?"

Rosie laughed, finding the question adorable, waving her hand dismissively as she led the way over to a table with a pair of chairs around it. "Oh, Heaven's no! The only gambling I do is on my husbands, and I always play with an exit strategy when I do."

Lucifer had the distinct impression that 'an exit strategy' was just a roundabout way of saying that she had no shortage of ways to dispose of any husband she no longer needed.

Yikes.

Between them, they ushered him further into the shop, leaving little time for protest. Any irritation was washed away under his fascination as he observed the way they moved in sync with each other. He was so used to the idea of Alastor being a force unto his own, the lone puppeteer pulling all the strings, it was a little intimidating to see him working as a team with someone he clearly trusted to take the lead. It made something twist in his chest, a feeling of peaking behind the curtain at something he wasn't supposed to have seen.

It made him look... human seeing him like this.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Alastor deftly maneuvered him into one of the two seats, half shoving him down into it as opposed to seating him in it. Reminded there was a reason he personally disliked the redhead, Lucifer flipped him off with a glare after he righted himself while their host wasn't looking.

The redhead placed a hand to his chest, mock affronted. "Come now, sire. Didn't anyone tell you such vulgar gestures are impolite in front of a lady?"

Rosie had undoubtedly seen and done much worse things before and after her arrival in Hell, as evidenced by the way she took her seat with little more than a titter in response to the spectacle they were making. Lucifer blinked as it sunk in that there were only two seats and there were three of them. That damned swell of guilt tried to rise up, even as he tried to shove it back down. It wasn't his fault any more than it had been Rosie's that Alastor had tried to exclude him from his own meeting. He shifted in his seat, also suddenly hyper aware that the current arrangement left Alastor standing just behind and to the right of his chair.

How deeply had he gotten under Lucifer's skin that even though Alastor couldn't do jack shit to him, the fallen angel was uncomfortable with him at his back?

"Um," he asked, trying to hide his awkwardness and aware that he was only making it more obvious. "Should we get a chair for...?"

Alastor leaned against the chair in a blatant disregard for personal space. "Oh, no, sire, don't mind me. I'm perfectly fine where I am." Everything about his body language said that he could see all the ways he was making the little king uncomfortable and was loving every moment of it. He tapped the top of the microphone to the top of Lucifer's hat. "Please, do the honors of explaining the reason for our little visit."

Lucifer's glare promised retribution, the moment he could figure out a way to do it without upsetting Charlie.

The chink of a cup being placed in front of him reminded him they weren't alone. Rosie had poured tea for him while he wasn't paying attention. He tried to eye it without being rude with his suspicions. He didn't outright think that even their tea potentially contained bodily fluids in them, one just couldn't be to careful about these things.

Astute, Rosie seemed to pick up on the issue. "Oh, don't look so worried, your Majesty. I promise it's only tea." If she was insulted by his mistrust, she didn't show it.

Deciding to take the plunge, he picked up the cup. The liquid inside was still steaming, an indication that it was still hot even before he took a sip. He blinked as a fruity, florally taste blossomed across his tongue. "Darjeeling?" He was fairly certain that was the name of it, anyway.

Alastor leaned over to take a sniff of the tea. His eyes danced with laughter as Lucifer snatched the cup away, the latter waving a hand at him to shoo him off and telling him, "Get your own tea!"

"Rosie has been introducing me to new teas," he said by way of explanation. He tapped a finger to his bottom lip thoughtfully as he withdrew back to his former position.

Rosie nodded in agreement. "It's always useful to have an assortment of drinks for any occasion. You never know who you might be entertaining." She set her own drink, half empty, back on the table. Back straight, the perfect picture of a lady host, she placed both of her hands in her lap. "Now, why don't you tell me what all this cloak and dagger is about? I must admit, I'm dying to hear the explanation."

Lucifer eyed Alastor, making certain he wasn't going to do something else, like straight up steal his drink. When the redhead failed to do anything besides smile that eye twitch inducing smile at him, Lucifer properly regained his seat. He held on to the cup, folding both hands around it to feel the heat seep into his hands. He turned his full attention to his host. "I take it Alastor has told you about the attacks on the hotel?"

Cannibals didn't have discernable pupils so it was impossible to tell if Rosie shared a glance with Alastor. Lucifer allowed his neutral expression to confer that he didn't mind if any information had been shared, as no effort had ever been made to hide it.

Her response still caught him off guard. "Everyone knows about the attacks, sire. It's all over the news."

Without thinking, Lucifer turned to Alastor, gaging his response. Alastor's expression had tightened with distain. Voice dripping with scorn, in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer, he asked, "Vox?"

Her tone wasn't as scornful, but it was clear there was no love lost between them, as Rosie confirmed, "Vox."

Not for the first time, Lucifer was almost sorry he hadn't kept up with the inner intricacies of the alliances between the people that more or less ran his city. So many sinners had risen and fallen over the millennia, even before he let it all fall to the wayside, it was difficult to keep track of them, let alone care. He was only mustering up the energy to care in this case because it was affecting his daughter and this upstart sinners were already threatening to give him a headache.

He pondered if it mattered if the attacks were known by the public or not. It was his understanding that Charlie never said anything about the Hotel other than attempts to advertise it. She never commented on previous attacks on the hotel, save to comment that she was glad that they didn't have to rebuild that one wall everyone used to destroy all the time. Between his neglect of Hell and Charlie's lack of negativity, he doubted anyone was expecting anyone to say anything about it in the end.

He nodded in acceptance. The plan should still be fine. "The working theory is that someone is worried about souls being redeemed and potentially losing their contracts." He leaned back in his chair as he crossed his legs, spine flush with the back rest. "I'm going to go on television to deliver a little warning to everyone in Hell about messing with my daughter's little project." Head tilting to the side, nothing nice about his smile, he added, "I'm also going to break an Overlord's contract on air."

Rosie's eyes widened. "Oh, my, that will cause a stir." She leaned forward, considering. "But that's not all, is it?"

Sharp one, this one. He'd have to keep an eye on her, especially since she was Alastor's friend. Playing ignorant, he asked, "Does there have to be more? Alastor tells me that its courteous," these words he said as if they were foul tasting in his mouth, "To include potential allies in future plans."

But the Victorian Overlord wasn't fooled, her expression saying as such. "Come now, as sweet as all this comradery is, there wouldn't be all this fuss over a little broadcast."

There was the soft rustle of cloth from where Lucifer had last seen the redhead, but when he checked, Alastor didn't appear to have moved so much as an inch. Confused, but suspicious the deer demon was the one who'd made a fuss, Lucifer decided there was no harm in including Alastor's role in what was to come. There had been no agreement, after all, to exclude it. To Rosie, Lucifer explained, "Alastor will be joining me during the broadcast, as a sign of solidarity."

Rosie went still. Although her head had not moved at all, Lucifer had the impression she only had eyes for her friend. He glanced at Alastor, who was equally as still. There was nothing out of the ordinary to suggest he might be bothered by the idea of appearing on tv. Perhaps she could see something he could not, because Rosie's brows drew together in what looked like concern.

Alastor's blank expression smoothed over into an easy one. "Oh, don't look at me like that, my dear." Something Lucifer couldn't read passed between them. "I'm more than pleased with the results of our little deal," Alastor went on, running his claws lightly down the stem of his cane to draw attention to it. An explanation to her earlier observation of its reappearance. He tapped those same claws one by one on it, eyes half lidded and smile pleased, as he said, "And there are still pleasant things to come from it."

Rosie's hand came up to cover her mouth, the sway of the feather in her hat in moving with her head as she looked back and forth between them. A knowing smile crossed her lips. "I see," she said. She settled, her expression was still as sweet as ever, but Lucifer could pick up the hint of a threat in her body language. "I'm sure you'll take good care of our dear Alastor, won't you, your Majesty?"

She was no more a threat to him than Alastor was. She didn't have a prayer of taking him in a fair fight. He could take her out before she even thought about moving. Yet, here she was, willing to threaten the most powerful being in all of Hell for her friend.

Lucifer felt that pang in chest return, this time accompanied by longing. How long had it been, since he had last shared this kind of easy rapport with someone? Before he withdrew from everything and his marriage fell apart? Before Eden and his fall? He'd had siblings and his father, once, then he'd had a wife and a daughter.

Had he ever just had a friend, though?

Lucifer swallowed, distracted and feeling like he'd been missed a step while going down a flight of stairs. "Um. Yes?"

Wait, what?

What she'd asked and what he'd agreed to caught up to him in a rush. He set his now lukewarm cup down, indignant. Why did he have to look after Alastor? Alastor was not only more than capable of looking after himself, but he seemed to have most of the cards in his favor! Lucifer couldn't even harm a hair on his furry little head as long as his daughter was attached to him!

He didn't dare look in Alastor's direction. He could all but feel the smugness radiating off him.

Rosie reached across the table, patting his hand sympathetically. "Now that the serious business is out of the way," she proclaimed. "How about some lunch? Alastor was so good as to provide us with the perfect meal!"

"Um." Lucifer felt his stomach drop as he remembered little side trip. He hadn't seen the package during or after it's procurement, but it wasn't hard to guess from what he'd over heard what it was going to be. His suspicions were confirmed, when Rosie retrieved the package and opened it up to reveal a whole chest and torso, head and limbs removed. Old enough for the wounds to have stopped leaking blood, but not so old as for the skin to have begun turning green with putrefaction.

Lucifer covered his mouth with one hand and clutched the arm of the chair with the other, trying not to gag. "Sorry, I'm a vegetarian," he managed as he sat back as far as he could sit in the chair.

Rosie blinked, looking around her shop with a thoughtful eye. A closer look around revealed it was full of various other body parts. This was not the place for someone of his tastes. "Well, that might be a challenge."

Alastor hummed in agreement, utterly unhelpful.

Lucifer could already tell his long day was only going to get longer.

tbc

Part 12

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #deer lucifer fic #hazbin hotel #i don't think i'll write out the meeting with carmilla #which means the broadcast should be in the next chapter!#sorry for the delay in getting this out #i haven't felt well this week #and still feel out of sorts #hopefully it will not take as long to get the next part out

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