Chapter Text
You wouldn’t think that trying to find one demon in the entire city of London would be that difficult. But here Matt is. The sun has set on his second day in the city and he has still yet to meet his new demon.
He honestly shouldn’t be having so much trouble. Just like angels, demons have distinct personal auras that can be felt by any other immortal upon being in their general area. They’re sort of like internal homing beacons, helpful guides to keep tabs on one another at all times.
Matt has scoured every inch of this city and hasn’t felt his new demon’s aura even once. Maybe it’s because he’s new. Not to mention he keeps getting lost. Hardly his fault- just last week he was still the residing angel in a small village in Iceland.
Angels, like demons, are assigned to different areas of the world to keep balance. One angel and one demon occupy each area and are kept on random rotation in an attempt to keep any nasty competition from arising between the two. Otherwise, next thing you know an arch duke has been assassinated and you’re in the middle of a war. It’s happened before. He was there.
Just as one would imagine, angels and demons despise one another on principle. Which is good really; it removes any temptation. Auras held by the different classification of immortals clash and are drained by physical contact. If he were to even accidentally brush against a demon, his aura would be damaged. If his aura becomes completely drained, he becomes permanently mortal.
It’s a silly rule, really. Because why would he ever want to lay even a single finger on one of his rivals? He’s never had the want to do so before, and he sincerely doubts he’ll have a change of heart this go round. In fact, he think he rather despises his new demon already.
Matt grumbles to himself as he wanders through some of London’s busiest streets, dodging passersby and attempting, in vain, to mentally catalogue his route. He doesn’t want to get lost. Again. Four times was enough.
Again, he places the blame on his new demon. It’s unusual- he has always been met by his demon upon immediate arrival when he’s been reassigned in the past. It’s a smart move, gives the demon the advantage. After all, when you’re playing a game it’s good to get to know your opponent- if you know how they think, you know how they play, and if you know how they play, then you know how to win. And winning gets him to places like London.
Either this new demon of his is incredibly dull or extremely intelligent. As Matt turns onto a cobbled street that he swears he was just down a moment ago, he begins to think that it may be the latter. Every time he finds himself lost, he gets the distinct feeling that he’s being laughed at- as if this is exactly what his demon was aiming for.
A drunken couple stumbles past, nearly knocking into him, and briefly he thinks they could use his influence so they don’t wind up making less than grand decisions, but at the moment he is honestly just too frustrated to care. Frustrated and annoyed. Actually, he’s frustrated, annoyed, and- he takes another step and suddenly it feels as if his bones have been bathed in warmth, a tiny nudge now tickling at his mind.
Halting in place, Matt grins. He’s found her.
The her bit surprises him, but he can tell from her aura alone that his new demon identifies as female. This should be interesting, he thinks as his eyes clap onto the office building before him. He’s never worked with a woman demon before.
Lightly ascending the stone steps, Matt pulls open the heavy glass door and enters the building without a second thought. Which in hindsight, was probably not the best idea. Not that it’s anything terrible- once he followed a demon’s aura and ended up walking into an orgy- that was terrible.
The lobby of the building is full of people mingling and drinking, all dressed in not exactly casual clothing. Matt grimaces down at his Guns N’ Roses t-shirt that’s starting to look a bit worse for wear. Way to blend in.
But suddenly blending in isn’t exactly at the top of his list because then he sees her. His new demon. And she is gorgeous. Which is to be expected, considering she’s a demon- they’re beautiful and charismatic by nature.
But this- she- is on an entirely different level. From her riotous, golden curls, to the shape of her figure, to the curl at the edges of her lips, she is all curves. If sin could be personified, he thinks only she would do.
His demon turns then, her eyes suddenly pinning him down, and he knows she must have been aware of his presence since the very moment he became aware of hers. Even from a distance, Matt can see the mischief shining in her eyes, combined with a sort of intelligence that sends shivers down his spine. She smiles then, a sort of knowing and almost predatory smile that nearly causes his heart to leap from his chest.
Matt swallows thickly. He is in trouble. A lot of it.
XxX
Demons and angels operate so separately because the influence they hold over mortals is rooted in such different traits. Each immortal can plant a certain feeling or emotion inside an individual that sways their way of thinking and ultimately results in an action. Of course, the mortal still has the ultimate say in whatever it is that they choose, but that struggle of morality they experience is all down to the hold of the angel or demon influencing them.
For angels, they influence through traits and emotions such as kindness, empathy, and guilt. For demons it can be resentfulness, ambition, or pure self-interest. It’s like a giant game of live chess. The immortals are the players, the emotions the key figures, and the mortals merely pawns. It’s stressful, and at times more than a little fun. Especially when he wins. After all, winning gets him to places like London.
This strong power of persuasion can only be used on mortals. At least, that is what Matt was taught. And he believed that. He really, really did. Right up until the second he clapped eyes on his new demon. Now he thinks that was a giant load of bollocks because suddenly he thinks that sinning cannot possibly be as bad as it looks. Because it doesn’t look bad at all. It looks bloody gorgeous.
A glass of what looks to be scotch is shoved into his hand, jolting Matt from his thoughts. Immediately looking up, he finds his demon standing before him with a smirk on her face and a hand placed delicately on her hip. He gets a whiff of Japanese cherry blossoms and it’s all he can do to keep his mouth shut against an idiotic gape.
His demon raises a brow. “Problem, angel?”
Shaking himself and trying not think about how he now understands the term, ‘attractive as hell,’ Matt turns a glower on her and shakes his glass. “You know I don’t consume alcohol.”
She gives him a pout, and suddenly he gets the distinct feeling that he is being mocked. “Pity. You could have been so much fun.”
“I’m plenty fun!”
“Well from what I hear, you’ve turned that village in Iceland into a bunch of goody-goodies. No fun at all, if you ask me.”
Matt tries not to be flustered by her statement. How had she even known about Iceland? What else does she know about him? Choosing not to think about it, he huffs and turns his gaze toward the room at large. “Well it doesn’t look like you’re inflicting your typical brand of fun here.”
She laughs then, causing his eyes to immediately snap back to her as she throws her head back. “Don’t be silly, darling. Of course I’m having fun! It’s a campaign party. This event is full of old, wealthy politicians. There are scandals here just begging me to guide them along.”
Inwardly, Matt is impressed by her more subtle use of persuasion. Scandals of politicians could cause more damage than any orgy amongst normal civilians ever could. Maybe his past demons could learn a thing or two from her.
Outwardly, he scoffs, but any retort stalls in his throat as he watches her gaze travel the length of his body. She hums, as if satisfied with what she sees, and throws him a smile. “But who knows, darling? Maybe you’ll turn out to be more fun than I originally thought.”
Oh gods. She’s flirting with him. His demon is flirting with him. A smile works its way up his face and his next words come out without his consent. “I think I may surprise you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? Where did that even come from? Inwardly, he panics until justifying it with her starting it by calling him darling.
Her smile softens into one of pleasant surprise. “I look forward to it, angel.”
XxX
After a few nights spent in a hotel, he somehow gets assigned to the flat directly across from his demon’s. He has yet to determine if it is the worst or best thing to ever happen to him.
To his surprise, his first morning in his new flat is interrupted by her sweeping through the front door without so much as a single knock. Matt yelps, gaping at her as he crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t even attempt to hide his shock.
Ignoring his floundering completely, Alex- well, Alexandra, he learned, but apparently if he wants to keep his head then it’s just Alex- turns her glower on him and plops an empty mug down on the counter before him. Wrapped in a pink, fuzzy dressing gown, her curls piled messily on her head, and her feet bare, he thinks she looks far less intimidating than she means to come across. The corner of his lips twitch upward. She actually looks quite…endearing.
For a demon, he forcibly reminds himself.
“Tell me you have coffee,” she greets, and somehow it sounds more like a threat than anything else.
Matt scoffs. “You barge into a man’s flat and expect him to just hand over his coffee?”
“Aren’t angels supposed to be generous?”
“That rule only applies to mortals, I’m afraid.”
Mischief lights up her eyes, her lips curling into a smirk that immediately makes him wary. His arms tighten over his chest as Alex’s gaze drifts pointedly over his form. “Well I’m sure we could figure out some sort of exchange, darling,” she practically purrs, crossing her arms on the kitchen bar and leaning forward.
Swallowing and ignoring the part of him that wants to find out just what kind of exchange she means, Matt struggles to keep his eyes on her face and not on the neckline of her robe, stuttering out, “Well-you- I…I actually don’t have any coffee.”
Heat flushes his cheeks at his own stumbling, but Matt refuses to break eye-contact with her. Alex’s playful manner suddenly disappears as she gapes at him. “You really don’t have any coffee?”
Matt wrinkles his nose. “Coffee is vile.”
She sighs and looks at him as if he has greatly disappointed her. Honestly, if she were a mortal she would fit right in with that lot of actors. So dramatic. “I knew I shouldn’t have put my faith in an angel.”
Matt gasps. “I’m plenty worthy of your faith!”
“Tell that to my empty coffee cup.”
Giving her a brief glower, Matt turns and swipes his coat from the rack. “Go get your coat.”
Alex arches a brow. “Why?”
“Because it’s cold out and we’re going to go get you coffee.”
Her eyes light up and it takes all of his strength to keep his seemingly exasperated expression in place.
Ten minutes later and they exit their building together, Alex now dressed for the outside rather than in just her dressing gown. Not that she had on only her dressing gown before. He’s sure there was something under there. Maybe. Matt’s cheeks flush as he tries to stop his train of thought from progressing to where it really shouldn’t.
“So,” Alex speaks from beside him as they walk, blessedly saving him in the form of a distraction. “Coffee for the first date? Not very original, are you, angel?”
The amusement in her eyes alerts him that she is only trying to wind him up, and while she managed to fluster him this morning, he is determined not to let her get the best of him again. Matt grins at her, leaning into her space and delighting in the flicker of surprise that flashes in his demon’s eyes. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’d know if this was a date.”
Alex hums, and Matt feels a sense of accomplishment as he watches her attempt to repress a smile. Pulling her coat around her in effort to ward off the chill of early autumn, Alex glances at him with a skeptical brow. “Don’t you angels have to remain celibate to keep your immortality?”
Frowning, Matt asks, “What does that have to do with a date?”
She smirks. “I think your definition of a date must be entirely different from mine, darling. It has everything to do with it.”
“I don’t think you’ve really had a proper date, then.”
His demon sighs, seemingly entirely put-upon as she replies, “Then I guess you’ll just have to take me on one of these proper dates.”
He knows she’s taking the piss. The idea of him, and angel, taking her, a demon, on a date is, is…is ridiculous to say the least.
Matt hums, as if giving it serious thought before looking at her with a grin. “I’ll get back to you on a day.”
For the second time that morning he surprises his demon, Alex giving him a pleased smile as she responds, “I’ll take your word for it, angel.”
XxX
What he learns over the course of the next month is that his demon is completely and utterly infuriating. What’s worse is that she is one hundred percent aware of it. She’ll mess with traffic light timing or glitch security cameras or delay flights out of Heathrow- anything that produces enough frustration for her to be able to manipulate and turn into a wide-spread crisis- and then only smiles sweetly at him as he runs around trying to calm everyone down.
Tonight, she’s invited him along as her plus one to some charity event, and he agreed, certain she has something up her sleeve. Though he has to admit that there’s an added bonus in getting to admire her in a slinky gold dress.
“Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, I appreciate being invited but I imagined our second date being a bit more…intimate.” Matt leers at her, waggling his eyebrows and enjoying the delighted laugh Alex gives in return.
“My, what a flirty angel I’ve ended up with,” Alex muses, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “What a lucky girl I am.”
She pauses, brow furrowing. “And what exactly was the first date?”
“Coffee, remember?”
“Oh yes,” she replies, eyes lighting up in remembrance. “You’re keeping count- how adorable.”
“I’d better be, otherwise date three might slip past without any of the benefits.” At his words, Alex turns to give him her full attention, causing the smile on Matt’s face to widen. He loves being her sole focus, loves how her eyes bore into his and how she leans ever so slightly into his space- just enough for him to get a whiff of that seductive floral scent that seems to cling to her like her aura itself.
She frowns suddenly. "Hold on. What happened to my proper date?”
Matt gives an easy grin and teases, “I doubt you would be able to keep your hands to yourself long enough for a proper date to ever transpire.”
The edges of her red-painted lips curl into a smirk, her eyes gleaming. “You’re right, darling. I’m just itching to knock that halo from your pretty little head.” Her eyes drop to roam over his form before meeting his gaze once more. “And what a beautiful sight you would make in my bed, angel.”
He knows she’s just bantering. It’s what they do- flirt until Alex finally manages to say something scandalous enough to shut him up. But that doesn’t stop his brain from producing an image of her words. Him. In his demon’s bed. Spread out on her sheets that no doubt smell of cherry blossoms. And her. All golden skin and sinful laughter as she presses herself against him in the most delicious of ways.
Mentally shaking himself, Matt blinks the images away to find Alex watching him with a wry smile, silently gloating at having gotten the best of him once again. He glares weakly at her, trying not to seem embarrassed at the flush that has spread from the tips of his ears to his cheeks.
As she sips patiently at her drink, Matt tries to come up with some sort of reply that doesn’t sound entirely too flustered. He never manages, saved from stammering out something embarrassing by a tall, middle-aged gentleman with a mustache who approaches with eyes for Alex only.
“Alexandra,” the man greets, making a point of dropping his gaze down the length of her dress before taking Alex’s hand and kissing her knuckles in greeting.
Matt doesn’t hear her reply, too busy frowning at the way the man continues to hold her hand and at the way Alex enthusiastically engages in conversation with him, one hand on his face or arm or chest at nearly all times. It isn’t surprising when Mustache Man asks her dance and she immediately agrees, pushing her drink into Matt’s hand before being swept out onto the dance floor.
Matt watches them with a sour expression on his face, irritated for a reason he doesn’t quite understand. It probably has something to do with Alex’s drink. Why should he have to hold it? What if he wanted to dance, hmm?
When Mustache Man sweeps a wayward curl from her face, Matt outright glares, his grip tightening around Alex’s cup. Not that is matters to him. But no one should have the right to touch her hair, least of all Mustache Man.
When she eventually returns, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed, Alex takes her drink and asks, “Not going to dance, darling?”
“Too busy being your personal drink holder,” Matt answers tartly, surprised at the annoyance in his voice that has everything to do with that tosser and nothing to do with Alex herself.
The blank stare she gives him as she sips at her drink conveys just how unimpressed she is at his tone. Matt deflates and breathes out a sigh before giving her a sly look. “Besides, the most gorgeous woman in the room was already taken.”
His demon smiles at his words, giving a tinkling laugh that lifts his heart. Take that, Mustache Man. She smirks at him, her voice infused with laughter as she asks, “Wanting to dance with me, angel?”
Matt pauses. He has only been around for a little over a month, but that’s been plenty of time to pick up on her penchant for turning completely innocent words into something utterly filthy. The smile he gives her is one of fond exasperation as he answers, “I feel like answering that is a trap.”
Her eyes widen with faux innocence as she places a hand to her chest, as if taken aback by his words. “What are you trying to say, darling?”
“That you’re far too naughty for anyone’s own good.”
She drops the act and shrugs. “Demon.”
A smile quirks at the edges of his lips, as if that is something endearing instead of the exact opposite of everything for which he stands. “Fair enough.”
“But you like it,” she counters, watching him with a knowing smirk. Infuriating, just like he concluded before. But somehow he finds himself smiling right back, leaning into her space ever so slightly and resisting the odd urge to tug at one of her curls. Surely if Mustache Man can touch her hair then he’s allowed to as well.
Be then he remembers he’s an angel. Touching even one curl would do damage to them both.
“Unfortunately,” Matt finally replies, giving her a small smile.
“You know, most would consider it lucky.”
“They must not be angels, then.”
“You got that right, darling. You must be special.” She winks at him then, sending a flutter through his heart as he continues to smile fondly at her.
Forcing himself to take his eyes from her, he gazes out at the crowd of mingling people and sighs. “Alright then. Spill. I know you’re not really here just to get a dance from Mustache Man.”
“Jealous, angel?”
Matt huffs, narrowing his eyes at her because no. That’s ridiculous. He’s not jealous. He just thinks that he, her angel, deserves her attention more than some pompous git with a mustache. But instead of protesting he opts only to insist, “Don’t change the subject.”
A small, knowing smile graces Alex’s lips as she holds up two fingers. “I’m here for two reasons. One: The money these people give tonight isn’t really going to buy books for children in low income parts of the city- of course I wanted to be here to help it along. Two: I wanted to see how quick you were to pick up on it.” Alex tsks at him, her eyes shining in amusement. “A bit slow, I’m afraid. But don’t worry, darling, you’re young yet. Got a lot of learning to do and I’m more than happy to be of help.”
She grins at him then, Matt only capable of gaping at her as his brain trips over itself to come up with a witty reply. “I- you- what?” Ah yes. Extremely witty indeed.
Alex sips her drink, watching him closely as she allows him time to catch up. Snapping his mouth shut, Matt looks out at the people laughing and drinking and having a good time, and suddenly feels his stomach turn. “So what are they doing with the money, then?”
“Well those donating think that it really is going towards the books. But the hosts are ‘investing’ it in their corporations.”
“Which really means they’re putting it in their own pockets,” Matt finishes as it clicks, feeling a bit faint because how is he going to fix this?
“Oh it gets better,” Alex says, her eyes lit up in glee. “I invited a reporter to this evening’s event and gave him a tip about what’s really going on here. By next week it’ll be splashed across headlines throughout the city.”
Matt eyes her warily. “Why would you want to out them?”
She scoffs, as if the answer is obvious. “The corporations will undergo full investigation. A whole bunch of nasty things will be found- tax evasion, fraudulent licensing, withholding worker compensation and raises.” Alex shrugs. “I might even get one or two strikes out of it if I’m lucky.”
Matt gives a short, slightly hysteric laugh. “Strikes on big corporations put thousands out of jobs, Alex. It could affect the city’s economy!”
She grins. “Fun, right?”
Matt makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, and has he mentioned yet how utterly and completely infuriating his demon is?
He scrubs his hand over his face, feeling defeated already. “This is a mess.”
“Only for you, angel,” Alex reminds him brightly, earning herself another glare.
“And I’m not young,” Matt argues, suddenly remembering Alex’s earlier words.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh? Do tell, darling. What was your first great event?”
“The War,” Matt answers smugly.
Looking unimpressed, she counters, “Which one?”
“You know,” Matt says, making wide gestures. “The Great one.”
Alex scoffs. “Nice try, darling, but I’ve been around for far longer. Countless revolutions, the birth of industrialism, the settlement of the American West, you name it.”
Matt raises his brows. “Were you actually on the frontier?”
Alex gives a nod.
“Impressive.”
She gives a shrug. “Bloody.”
“Still, you’re not that much older. A century at best. I’m more than half that difference, so you can’t really pull the age card, Alexandra.”
Alex gasps at him, and he’s sure that if they could touch that he would have gotten slapped rather violently on the arm. She narrows her eyes, but he doesn’t miss the way the corner of her lips twitch as if she wants to smile. “Don’t you have a scandal you need to be attending to, angel?”
“I dunno, I’m rather having fun right here.”
“Well don’t you dare use my name again.”
He’s grown. He’s mature. He really is. But something about his demon makes him feel like he’s a small mortal boy on the playground- running after the girl with pigtails because he’s just itching to pull them.
Matt leans in, smiling smugly at her before simply repeating, “Alexandra.”
When he ends up with her drink in his face, he can’t bring himself to be even a little upset, his laughter mixing with that of his demon’s, and the scandal left temporarily forgotten.
XxX
“I still can’t believe you got assigned to London,” Karen, his best mate and fellow angel, states as she gazes in awe at their surroundings.
They sit outside a café in the heart of the city, eating breakfast and catching up while she has a few days off in between getting reassigned from some small town in Scotland.
“Yeah it’s pretty great,” Matt agrees around a mouthful of bagel. Swallowing his food and picking up his tea, he asks, “Where is it you’re getting assigned to again?”
“Cardiff,” Karen answers, wrinkling her nose in obvious distaste.
Matt shrugs. “Better than Iceland.”
“We’ll see.” She sighs. “Anyway, how’re things with your new demon?”
Matt shakes his head, taking a few sips of his tea before answering, “She’s bloody infuriating.”
Karen immediately straightens in her seat. “She? Your demon’s a she? What’s she like?”
“Smart,” Matt answers immediately, glowering at nothing as he thinks of the most recent problem he’s having to deal with.
Luckily, he was able to stop the whole charity scandal from turning into a giant mess- You don’t let me have any fun, Alex had pouted at him- but now she’s messing with Parliament and trying to hold influence over the nation’s budget. Honestly. She knows right where to poke to rile up the entire city- if not the entire country.
“Also gorgeous,” he adds, picking at the bacon on his plate.
“Well of course she’s gorgeous. She’s a demon.”
“No, she’s like properly gorgeous.”
Karen leans forward then, wearing a smile he instantly decides he really doesn’t like. “Sounds like somebody has a crush.”
“No,” he insists hotly. “Don’t even start, Kazza.”
“I’m not starting anything!” Karen argues, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying- all of us Fall to something. Or someone.”
Matt scoffs. “I’m not going to lose my immortality over a crush on a demon.”
“Aha!” Karen exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “I knew you had a crush on her!”
Matt glares at her, only further irritated as she grins smugly at him. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Smithers.”
He groans. “I know it’s not! Because I don’t even have a crush on her to begin with! I was just saying-”
Karen waves her hand, cutting him off. “Whatever you say, moron. You just better let me know before you do anything stupid. Like kiss her.”
Recognizing that there will be no changing her mind, Matt gives up the argument and sinks into his chair with a resigned sigh. He scoffs inwardly. He doesn’t want to kiss Alex.
No longer paying attention to Karen as she rambles on, Matt finds himself thinking of Alex’s lips. Full, soft, pink lips that seem to be set in a perpetual smirk. And they’d probably feel incredible against his own. Even more so with his hands buried in her thick curls, and her warm curves pressed against his body.
Matt swallows thickly and immediately banishes the thought, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. When he glances up, he finds Karen watching him with a knowing smirk, and suddenly every word he said in denial seems to lay in a useless puddle at his feet.