Work Text:
Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.
Charlie's newest idea: collaborative efforts to build trust and work ethic! The whole hotel has been charged with cleaning the entire bottom floor–much to their dismay. Niffty, as requested by Charlie, wasn't allowed to scramble about and clean as fast as she could. Alastor had set himself to work in the kitchen as a bourbon-marinated chicken slow cooked. Niffty slaves away in the bathroom at an arduous and slow pace; Angel washed the walls of the den. Husk worked in his bar while Charlie and Vaggie tackled the lobby. Lucifer floated around cleaning the floors as Sir Pentious was teaching his Egg Bois how to clean lights.
In the middle of all the haze, there was a loud, rhythmic knock on the door. It echoed through the wide lobby to which everyone stopped doing their work.
“Whozat? Were we expectin someone?” Angel asked, standing up from where he was washing windows.
Niffty raced in the lobby at the noise, and she looked around for the source. Lucifer stopped her from going close to the door with a gentle hand on her head; Sir Pentious gathered his Bois close.
Charlie approaches the door cautiously, “I don't think so.”
Husk watched unimpressed from the ground where he continued to unenthusiastically dust the baseboards. Vaggie grabbed her spear from the coat rack and made her way to stand behind Charlie.
Another knock echoes through the hallway. Charlie took the doorknob with a slightly trembling hand. She twisted it and opened it. A strong, clawed hand opened it further. Lo and behold, Vox stood in the doorway, looking down imposingly at the hotel residents. He stood in a different suit than his usual get up; it had a black, crisp overcoat tailored to fit his wide shoulders and continued downward to form a boxy silhouette. It was buttoned closed, only allowing a small glance at the white button-up shirt and striped tie. His pants were similarly boxy in silhouette with pleats swimming in a deep black shadow. An unassuming flat cap adorned his head rather than his usual fedora. In his hands was a bouquet of four different flowers with baby's breath and white clovers as visual white noise. Upon further inspection, they were revealed to be two camellias–red and pink–red carnations, and the usual red roses.
“Vox? What the hell are ya doing here?” Angel questioned.
Charlie moved to shut the door in his face, but Vox just stepped through with a disdainful smile pointed her way.
“Where is Alastor?” He questioned, looking around the lobby.
“We'll never tell you!” Sir Pentious exclaimed with a dramatic air.
Lucifer groaned as Niffty watched him with open curiosity. Vaggie drew back with her spear beared, “What do you want with him? You tell us, and we'll let you go to him.”
Clattering and clanking coming from the kitchen signalled where the missing member of the hotel workforce was. Vox walked toward the kitchen at the growing displeasure and apprehension of the group. Charlie tried jumping in front of Vox only to be gingerly pushed away.
The faint sound of big band jazz got louder as they got closer to the kitchen. Vox opened the door with a bigger and more genuine smile than anyone had seen from him in quite a while.
In the kitchen, Alastor was stirring the pot of chicken on the stove with a vintage radio sitting on the shining counters. He wore an apron with questionable red-brown stains on it and was undressed to his red undershirt and his slacks. His hair was tucked away in a ponytail as his ears drooped slightly. He looked back at the sudden noise to look at a smiling Vox trailed by the concerned and hesitant hotel denizens.
A big, happy smile grew on his face as he exclaimed, “Vincent! You made it.”
Vox drew closer and wrapped his arms around Alastor as he continued to fuss with food on the stove, “You aren't ready, dear. I told you that I'd be here at five.”
Alastor leaned his head back absentmindedly, “Ah, I got quite carried away; my dear Charlie had instructed us to clean, and I had started a pot of Bourbon Chicken without thinking.”
Vox held him closer, and he spoke softly, “I guess I can wait a while longer while you finish this. I had gott–”
“Oh, it's nearly done. I can go get ready if you watch it–it is done in three minutes. Turn off the heat, and they can serve it over the rice on the counter.”
The others watched in shock from the doorway as Alastor dissolved into shadows. Count Basie played from the radio as Vox leaned back and watched the pot with a faraway, lovestruck expression.
“What the fuck?” Husk muttered to himself.
“Did you all see that too? Was that just me; Am I hallucinating?” Lucifer questioned, rubbing his eyes.
“Nope, I saw it too, Dad,” Charlie said with a smile growing on her face, “See, I told you Vaggie! Alastor can love; it's just harder for him!”
Vox turned with a smirk, “You really thought he wasn't capable of love? He's human, same as all of us–except for our royal family. He just doesn't waste on people like you.”
Lucifer scoffed, “I can love. Charlie is here, y'know.”
“Yuck, Dad! I don't wanna hear that!”
Charlie reeled back, thoroughly grossed out. Vox chuckled as he turned the heat off, and he walked past them into the lobby. Vox propped himself on Alastor’s chair holding his bouquet close to himself. The hotel’s residents all followed, gaping at him with no sense of decorum.
Soon enough, Alastor came walking down the staircase, wearing a suit different from normal. He donned a gray, striped suit that hugged his shoulders and waist but fell loose at the hips. The high neckline of his white undershirt swallowed his neck and emphasized the thin tie that hung from his neck. His matching slacks have a seam down the middle that cut off just above the tops of his shining loafers. Alastor carried a fedora in one hand and his staff in the other.
“Ready to go, darl’?” Vox asked as he sat up, adjusting his hat.
“Quite. You look dashing, love.”
Alastor held out an arm for Vox as he started to walk to the door. The TV brought the bouquet out from behind him. Alastor took them in one hand and admired them.
“Do you like them?”
“They're red! Oh you know me so well.”
Vox opened the door for him as he pulled out a rouge rose from inside his overcoat.
“One more rose for the road,” Vox added, and he placed it in Alastor's breast pocket.
The bovine chuckled and led Vox outside, “You jest!”
The door closed on the sound of love drenched conversation. The hotel's workforce sat in silence for a few beats before exploding in conversation.
“What in the world was that?”
“Did you see Alastor HOLD VOX without decapitating him?”
“What in the pet names was that?”
The only person who remained silent and content was Niffty. She chuckled to herself as she pulled out a journal, crinkled with use and covered in scrawlings with dialogue walls and long paragraphs of text.