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Alastor was going to murder Vaggie. He was going to sneak into her room in the dead of night and run her through with her own spear. Maybe then she’d think twice before interfering with his affairs. This was what he got for sharing his feelings; unwanted interference and irksome obstacles.
He managed to smooth things over with Lucifer after a lie swiftly pulled from beneath his tail, explaining that he and Vaggie had gone to the florist together and gotten them same bouquet for both he and Charlie. ‘To be cute,’ he’d added with a few bats of his eyelashes. Lucifer seemed to buy it only after they passed by Charlie and Vaggie’s room and Alastor snapped an identical over-sized bouquet into existence to lay on their doormat with a small card attached, written by ‘Vaggie.’
Lucifer had read over the thing a few times, squinting at the handwriting, then back at Alastor, who smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Alastor thought he’d made the card an impressive forgery. He liked to think he had Vaggie’s particular brand of gruff, flustered attempts at sentimentality down.
They were enough to convince Lucifer anyway, who relented with a shrug, looping his arm through Alastor’s and vanishing the bouquet with a snap of his fingers.
“I’ve put them in a vase by the window,” Lucifer said to Alastor’s raised eyebrow. “They’re nice. You know, I don’t think you’ve ever gotten me flowers before, not even for the holidays or anything. What gives?”
“What?” Alastor asked, faux aghast as he placed a hand on his chest. “I can’t do something nice for my other half on our special day?”
Lucifer gave him a look and Alastor quickly relented.
“Alright, fine. Have it your way. Today is, indeed, a rather singularly special occasion. I have more planned for you, dear.”
“Special occasion, huh?” Lucifer echoed. His smile turned sly as he stepped closer until he was tucked snugly against Alastor’s side. He wrapped his arms around Alastor’s waist, tipping his head back and poking out just the tip of his forked tongue. In a deep, rumbling voice, he asked, “Does this mean I struck oil and you’re actually in the mood?”
Alastor paused before answering. He wasn’t opposed to some devil’s tango if the night’s agenda went according to plan. Then again, maybe he should pop the question mid coitus while Lucifer’s pleasure was at a high. In the middle of an orgasm was usually when Lucifer was at his most agreeable. Alastor’s chances of success would likely be higher if he took the lower approach. He pursed his lips as he turned the idea over in his mind, but ultimately dismissed it. He didn’t think Lucifer would be too impressed once the afterglow had worn off.
“Perhaps,” he eventually replied, trailing a claw down Lucifer’s check, stopping when his finger met the knot of Lucifer’s bowtie. “For now, however, I have something tasty ready for us.”
Alastor untangled himself from Lucifer’s hold and slid his hand down to intertwine their fingers. Lucifer pouted as Alastor began leading him down the hall.
“I thought my idea sounded pretty tasty…”
“They’re coming!” Niffty squealed, dropping from her place clinging onto the edge of the rounded window set into the kitchen door.
She landed on the floor in a puddle of skirts with a light, “Oof!” A moment later, she shot back to her feet, skittering about madly before she bumped into Vaggie’s leg and promptly fell over again. Before she could scurry away again, Charlie seized the back of her neckerchief and hauled her up into her arms. Niffty squirmed about as she giggled with excitement, her legs kicking at Charlie’s stomach much like Keekee would paw at her through her sheets at the crack of dawn when she’d decided it was breakfast time.
“Okay, gang!” Charlie said to the small motley crew assembled before her. “Dad and Alastor are on their way. Are you ready to make this the most romantic night Hell has ever seen?”
“YEAH!” Niffty screamed while Vaggie and Husk gave half-hearted fist pumps and broken cheers.
Well, Vaggie did that stuff. Husk couldn’t stop fidgeting with the cuffs of the suit jacket Charlie had forced on him.
“Yeah!” she echoed, trying to push some extra enthusiasm into her voice.
Charlie set both her concerns and Niffty aside and turned to Alastor’s shadow, which had been silently slinking around the kitchen ever since she and Alastor had devised Step 2 of their proposal plan. It was currently stood over the stove, stirring away at a small pot of bubbling sauce. It smelled divine, just as it did every time Alastor decided to cook dinner for the core hotel residents, but tonight wasn’t about her own grumbling stomach, it was about her dad’s.
The shadow set down the ladle it had been using to stir then turned to Charlie with that eerie glowing grin of its. She’d grown accustomed to Alastor’s smile in all its forms and was fond of the sight, even when he was trying to be freaky. But the shadow had yet to earn the same amount of fondness from her.
It chittered a light cackle then dropped to the floor in a puddle. With a quick dash, it slithered across the kitchen, disappearing under the door. Charlie clapped her hands together, rounding on Husk.
“Okay! That’s the signal. They’re sitting down, which means it’s your time to shine, Husk.”
Husk grumbled as he loaded the pot onto the serving cart Niffty had been putting together as the shadow cooked.
“Dunno why we’re getting roped into this whole mess,” he muttered, scratching at the cutouts in the back of his suit jacket Charlie had made to accommodate his wings. “You should really think about what you’re doin’, Charlie. Sendin’ your old man out to be eaten by wolves? That’s cold.”
Charlie rolled her eyes and ushered Husk towards the door. “Thank you so much for your input, Husk. Now, get out there and be the best busboy anyone’s ever seen!”
She gave him an encouraging push via her shoe up his ass, kicking both him and the serving cart through the door.
“Right this way, good Sir,” Alastor purred, dropping into yet another bow as he and Lucifer made it to the base of the stairs.
He gestured to a table set up in the middle of the lobby, all the usual furniture pushed aside, covered in candles, every wick flickering with green flames. The overhead lights were turned down low, the hellfire catching in the crystal shards dangling from the chandelier and casting a dappled glow over the walls. The fireplace was lit, leaving the sound of the crackling fire to add to the ambience.
Lucifer took it all in with both a surge of fondness and a growing sense of suspicion. This was nice. Too nice. And if there was one thing he’d come to learn about Alastor over their years together it was that he was the furthest thing from nice. But Lucifer already tried asking him outright and Alastor had danced around the question with his nimble feet and silver tongue, which left him with little choice other than to play along.
“Wow,” Lucifer said, yucking it up for his audience of one, turning in a circle to take in every inch of the lobby, their personal dining room for the evening, it would seem. “This is surprising. Could there be any more surprises in store?”
He aimed a sharp look at Alastor with his last remark, though the sinner simply chuckled into the back of his hand as he straightened up.
“Well, you know me. I’m just full of surprises.”
Lucifer didn’t like the devilish glint in his eye as he said it. Typically, devilish glints were reserved solely for him.
Alastor strode over to the table and pulled out one chair, gesturing for Lucifer to sit. “But please, do sit down. It’s not just the room I’ve prepared for us tonight. I do hope those pancakes weren’t too filling for you.”
Lucifer’s stomach grumbled in answer, making Alastor’s grin widen. With a huff, Lucifer stomped over to the offered chair with as much dignity as a man with a grumbly tummy could muster. He sat down and Alastor pushed his chair in for him before sweeping around the table and taking his own.
The table was dressed to the nines with a red silk tablecloth and soft white napkins folded into ducks. A small vase acted as the centerpiece, filled with a couple of the red and white flowers from the bouquet Alastor had gifted him earlier. With a couple more candles decorating the tabletop, the whole thing built a beautiful image, particularly when Lucifer lifted his eyes up to the face across from him.
For a moment, the keen-eyed suspicion that had been pushing his nose to the ground like a bloodhound on a scent loosened and he got swept up in the giddiness of it all. Alastor was putting on quite a show for him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t done sweet things for Lucifer over the course of their relationship—the occasional night in with a movie Lucifer had mentioned in passing he liked, a walk along the palace grounds, feeding the hellducks populating the garden pond—but they were slightly overshadowed by all the not sweet things Alastor was prone to doing, Halloween death pranks and all.
It was just as Alastor had said; for better or for worse, he was full of surprises, always leaving Lucifer waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Like right now.
“This is…thoughtful of you,” Lucifer said, choosing his words with all the care of a man cutting the wires to deactivate a ticking bomb. “I don’t know what to say.”
Alastor merely closed his eyes and hummed, chin propped up on the back of his hand. “Naturally, speechlessness is to be expected in the face of such well-crafted atmosphere and class. But here, we can give that mouth of yours something else to occupy itself with.”
For a wild moment, Lucifer thought maybe Alastor was following his tasty train, but then the doors leading into the kitchen burst open and Husk came stumbling out, pushing a silver serving cart. He shot a murderous look at something over his shoulder before shaking out his wings and slinking over to their table.
“Ah, Husker,” Alastor greeted, spreading his arms out wide. “Such nice service. Thank you, my good man.”
Husk growled in the back of his throat as he pulled back the silver dish laid on the cart. Lucifer’s eyes bulged out of his head as he saw an assortment of all his favourite savoury dishes: roast duck and mashed potatoes, stuffed olives, and what looked to be a soup heavy with lentils and leeks. A few other smaller bowls filled with sauces and garnishes, as well as a basket of freshly-baked breadsticks were placed onto the table by Husk, who didn’t drop his heavy frown for a second.
Alastor seemed to have his attention equally divided between Lucifer and the food, his eyes darting down to the dishes, then up to Lucifer’s face, his pupils looking to shrink as his eyebrows rose.
Lucifer knew a tell me what a good job I did look when he saw one, and cleared his throat. “Did you make all of this yourself? It looks delicious.”
“Indeed, I did,” Alastor cooed, beaming at the dollop of praise. “Only the best for you, my darling.” In a decidedly less simpering tone, he said to Husk, “That will be all. Off with you, now.”
He made a shooing gesture to really drive the point home.
Husk bared his teeth in a light snarl, turning to do just as Alastor had bid and shoo. But he paused before he could take his first step back towards the kitchen, eyes snagging on Lucifer. Squinting at Alastor, Husk leaned down and muttered to Lucifer behind his hand.
“There’s still time,” he hissed. “Get out while you still ca-“
A black tentacle lashed out from Alastor’s back, promptly wrapping around Husk’s head and covering his mouth. He was lifted into the air where he struggled and kicked, clawing at the shadowy tendril silencing his muffled yells.
“Thank you, Husker,” Alastor said, his voice gravelly with distortion. His eyes flickered from red to black as he snapped his neck to the side to glare at Husk, who was still flailing about in the air. “I said that will be ALL.”
And with a final with of his tentacle, Alastor threw Husk across the room, back into the kitchen. Lucifer watched all of this with his hand reached out towards the mashed potatoes, frozen in place.
Alastor closed his eyes, retracting the tentacle back into his body. When he opened them back up, they were their typical scarlet once more, heavy lidded and staring dreamily across the table.
“Now then,” Alastor drawled, tracing a clawed finger along the back of Lucifer’s hand. “Where were we?”