Text:As much as Lucifer slept in the past few thousand years, he couldn't say that there was anything specifically remarkable about it. He went to bed, he got to bask in a few hours of pure, unadulterated unknowing, then he woke up and it was back to the grind, back to making ducks and loneliness and being in Hell.
Those days of unremarkable awakenings were one of the many changes that came into his life when he decided to live at the hotel and Lucifer had to say, it was one of the ones he liked the best.
Today he woke up to the dueling sensations of deliciously suffocating, which he was starting to get used to, and to a long, prehensile tongue licking his neck in a wet path that led all the way up to his ear. That was a new morning delight, one that Lucifer was already sleepily deciding could be added to the list. He sighed and tipped his head to the side to give more access and that tongue obligingly took him up on the offer, curling around his ear ticklishly until Lucifer squirmed.
"Hnnn, 'lastor, stop, tickles," he mumbled. For a brief second it did the exact opposite, enough that Alastor was in danger of getting thrown off by Lucifer's increasingly uncontrollable writhing.
Then he relented, moving back to the safer territory of the jaw line, warm lips brushing his skin as he murmured, "You seem quite certain that name applies without looking. You're awfully trusting for someone who lives in Hell."
"Believe me," Lucifer sighed out. Opening his eyes? That sounded like effort and that was not on. "The list of people who might want to lick my neck is vanishingly small."
"I sincerely doubt that. Perhaps on your next picture box interview you can take a poll."
Okay, so, sass was also on the morning menu, got it. Lucifer tried to move, the better to get his grabby hands on this little shit when he realized he couldn't. Alastor was kneeling on top of him directly over the blankets and his hands were pinned beneath.
He relaxed back down, yeah, all right, he was willing to see where this was going.
Where it went was Alastor surrendering his ear dominance to move on to Lucifer's mouth and was it even possible that a few days ago Alastor kissed like he'd never considered the act worthy of his attention? He'd certainly rethought the idea since then; his tongue, still longer than his normal, thin and clever, was curling around Lucifer's with tantalizing ease as he swallowed down the little sounds already escaping from Lucifer's throat, always a metaphor for consumption with this guy.
Slim hips slowly ground against Lucifer through the blankets, abrading the sheets tantalizingly against his aching cock and if that kept up, whatever game Alastor was playing would be over very quickly.
There was only one small problem with it all, almost insignificant, really, but Lucifer thought he should bring it up.
Reluctantly, he tore his mouth free from Alastor's and even more reluctantly he turned away to keep him from recapturing it long enough to say, "Al, I can't breathe."
"I told you not to call me that," Alastor said. Ever the opportunist, when he came to the conclusion Lucifer wasn't going to allow more kisses without air, he chose to attack the neck again, his teeth nibbling wincingly firm. "And you don't technically need to breathe."
"Al-aster," Lucifer said, halfway between a laugh and a plea, "I would like to breathe.
Alastor let out a thoughtful hum as if considering allowing it. "You've woken me up enough times like this, I thought I'd return the favor. But if you'd prefer me to move—"
He started to climb off and Lucifer twisted his hands enough to tear through the blankets with his sharp fingertips. Alastor only laughed, static-rich and delighted, as Lucifer caught hold of his slim hips in both hands, nails digging in as he held him right where he was.
"Suffocate me," Lucifer croaked out. That laughing amusement was smothered beneath another kiss and Lucifer shifted to get a better hold.
He made a sound of disappointment between their mouths when he discovered Alastor was already dressed, fingering his trousers consideringly and Alastor proved yet again that a touch of prescience might be amongst his abilities —or maybe he was simply learning Lucifer the way Lucifer was learning him and wasn't that a lovely thought— as he broke the kiss and said firmly, "You try that maneuver on my clothes and we will be having words."
Spoilsport.
As much as he enjoyed Alastor's mouth, and he did, that was not up for question, unfortunately it couldn't be in more than one place at a time…or if it could, Lucifer didn't really want to know what the other option was, he preferred to keep to a generally humanoid form for sex.
But what that meant was he could have blowjobs or kisses, not both and Alastor's renewed laughter filled the room as Lucifer rolled them both over to settle on top, tearing through more of the blankets to get closer.
"You're cleaning any messes you make," Alastor said breathlessly, even as his hands trailed down Lucifer's chest, his nails leaving behind fine, stinging scratches before he cupped Lucifer's cock in both hands, slender fingers gathering the soft fluid at the tip, slicking his palms as he stroked.
"Don't I…don't I always?" Lucifer panted.
"I find it's best to always clarify details up front."
If there was anything else he wanted to clarify, Lucifer was in no position to hear it. He didn't even want to know where Alastor learned that clever little twist of the wrist, maybe in one of those magazines he was always reading, 'How to Jerk Off Your Man in Ten Easy Steps'. Wherever, however, didn't matter, what mattered was the way it made Lucifer shudder against him, his mouth falling open as he shouted up at the ceiling, coming in an exquisite rush over Alastor's hands and shirt, creamy white and gold streaks over crimson silk.
Lucifer sank down on him before his shaky arms could give out, smearing the mess between them and Alastor laughed softly close to his ear, whispering like a secret, "You're lovely when you're yowling like a dying barn owl."
Oh, this fucking guy. Lucifer snorted, "Thanks."
Slim fingers, still faintly tacky with his come, moved to stroke down his back, dabbling at the sweaty dampness of his skin, drying cool in the morning air. "I'm simply trying to indulge your need for compliments."
"Uh huh. You know, the first time you ever complimented my appearance was to tell me I had a pretty cock."
"You do," Alastor agreed. "As pretty as the rest of you."
It was incredibly silly how much it warmed him to hear it, how much he wanted to keep close every compliment said in that radio-husky voice.
As much as he would have liked to lay in bed most of the day, see what other words he could coax from Alastor, his internal clock was telling him it was already mid-morning and he should probably put in an attempt to be useful today.
Lucifer moved to sit up and stretch, snapping them both clean even as he had vague thoughts in the direction of a shower and whether he'd be able to coax Alastor in with him …and discovered Alastor's shadow looming large on the wall next to the bed, shockingly oversized in the dim light and the jagged red slash of its grin enormous and disturbing.
"Holy fuck!" Lucifer blurted, scrambling back. He couldn't actually have a heart attack but from the way his was pounding away in his chest, it was considering making the attempt.
"On the contrary, I believe that was the exact opposite."
"Not that!" Lucifer pointed with a flailing hand. "Him! It! What's it doing?"
Alastor turned to look and at that moment gave Lucifer the first clear view of his face he'd had that morning and Lucifer forgot all about creepy, looming shadows.
"Alastor, holy shit!"
Even Alastor shifting to stretch with bone-popping intensity didn't distract him, raising his arms over his head as he yawned, "You seem strangely determined to bless things in a vulgar manner this morning."
"Never mind that," Lucifer snapped, "what happened to your face?"
Alastor never stopped smiling, Lucifer wasn't entirely sure he even could, but give him credit for being expressive anyway because he definitely managed to make his displeasure known. "I beg your pardon? It was gifted to me when I awoke in Hell."
"Not like that it wasn't!" Lucifer hastily conjured a mirror and held it up to said face, which absolutely had not looked that way when they'd fallen asleep together. The entire left side was bruised, from a narrow line at his jawline expanding up in a cloud of purples and blues to his eye.
Alastor blinked at him with the eye that wasn't almost swollen shut. "Ah. That."
As if it was a forgotten dirty sock under the coffee table, fuck's sake. "Yes, that! Alastor, what the fuck happened?"
He sighed impatiently, like Lucifer was being the unreasonable one here. "It's only a black eye, it's hardly going to kill me. I didn't even realize it bruised that much."
Only a black eye, only, he said, and had the nerve to be put out that Lucifer was rudely ruining their lovely morning being upset about it.
"What happened?" Lucifer demanded, "Did you have a nightmare?" A thought occurred that left him cold; he couldn't have done that in his sleep…could he? True, he wasn't really used to sleeping with someone yet but surely he couldn't…he didn't… "It wasn't—it wasn't me, was it?"
From the brutally unimpressed look Alastor gave him, an unconscious nighttime attack wasn't the case. "I shudder to think how you survived for so long if you could sleep through a nightmare that could cause this. No, I took an—" he hesitated, adding delicately, "—an excursion after you fell asleep."
"An excursion," Lucifer said flatly. When did Alastor even leave and more to the point, how did Lucifer not wake when he did. Apparently, he needed to put a bell on him at night or a tripwire around the bed, something, if Alastor was going to start sneaking out.
He reached up and Alastor didn't flinch from the light press of his fingers as they discovered what he already suspected; he couldn't heal this, it was done deliberately.
"It's only a black eye," Alastor repeated. He reached up and caught Lucifer's hand from where it was investigating the swelling, drawing it down and sliding their fingers together.
Clever, that, stop him from poking and offer comfort at the same time, because Lucifer was obviously the one who needed comfort here. Alastor's eyes flicked briefly away from Lucifer's, looking up at his shadow that was still moving agitatedly across the walls, its crimson mouth twisting and, look, Lucifer still didn't trust the thing but right now it seemed a little more honest than the living, breathing side of him.
Lucifer pressed his lips together into a thin line. He didn't say anything, staring at Alastor hard, refusing to look away.
Alastor sighed again and conceded. "It's slightly more than a black eye."
"Where else are you hurt? Show me." Lucifer crawled across the bed and started pulling at his clothes. He should have been suspicious from the start, probably would have been if Alastor didn't go right for his weak spot and distract him with sex. The last time Alastor came to bed fully dressed, it'd been to hide the lash marks striped down his back, who the hell knew what else he was hiding now.
"Nowhere else." But Alastor didn't stop him from yanking open his clothes, hands searching for more unreported injuries. Nothing but warm, smooth skin greeted his touch and he pushed Alastor's shirt up further, leaning back to confirm with his eyes. Trousers ended up the same way, tugged down to Alastor's knees but there was nothing, not a single bruise, not even when Lucifer peeled back his undershorts, his own instead of a pair scrounged from Lucifer's dresser.
"As I said, I'm not hurt anywhere else," Alastor told him, but it was gently said.
"I can see that." Lucifer sat back on his heels unhappily. Not anywhere else, only where it showed, where it was obvious. More glaring than a neon sign, a warning? A punishment allowing all of Hell to see the Radio Demon marked. Someone did this and made sure Alastor couldn't speed the healing process, made sure that no one could.
(someone who needed to be dead, worse than dead, Hell was meant for punishments, and Lucifer could do so much worse)
"Do calm yourself. I'm perfectly fine." Alastor sat back and his expression was a complex mixture of intrigue, a little alarm, with a dash of delight sprinkled overtop. Lucifer realized his horns were starting to protrude and he could taste hot ashes on the back of his tongue.
He closed his eyes and took a long, calming breath, another, and when he opened his eyes again, he was back under control, although he didn't think he was imagining Alastor's faint disappointment. Okay, that was a kink they could revisit another time; if the demonic look appealed, Lucifer had no objection to roleplaying the big, bad King of Hell ravishing the impertinent demon but that was a game for later.
"Stay right there." Lucifer hopped off the bed and went to the bathroom. He wet a washcloth, brought it out still dripping, and Alastor hadn't moved, not even to do up his clothes, gee, all Lucifer had to do to get a little obedience was be so terrifically worried he started losing control of his form, great, that was useful.
His talents when it came to temperature tended to err on the brimstone side of things, but Hell could freeze over, too. He folded the wet washcloth into a sort of pad and blew on it until it froze solid in his hand.
"Here." He crawled back on the bed to press the makeshift ice pack against Alastor's face.
He hissed at the cold but allowed Lucifer to fuss. "You do realize this will be entirely gone by tomorrow morning."
"Indulge me."
As if he wasn't already. Sitting patiently while Lucifer fussed over him, not protesting as he inspected him again for more bruises. His face was the only thing Lucifer could see was injured which meant that was probably the point.
This felt different than the last time, this was deliberately provoking, like a taunt. All of Hell had to know that at least something was up between him and Alastor, was this a reminder that he couldn't interfere in a deal? A warning not to try? Or was the deal holder simply mocking him. Without knowing who the deal was with, there was no way for Lucifer to tell.
The direct approach couldn't hurt, not that Lucifer expected much from it. "I don't suppose you can give me a hint of some sort what happened."
"Certainly." The disbelieving hope that rose at that word dropped down the instant Alastor went on, "I zagged when I should have zigged."
"Hilarious."
"Mmm," Alastor's smile was lopsided, the swollen side of his face unable to curve high and partially hidden beneath the cold pack. "I've always made a point to own my sins. Has it never occurred to you that perhaps I deserve all this?"
"No, you don't." He knew what Alastor was capable of, the good and the bad; he didn't own his sins, he embraced them. Lucifer didn't care, Alastor didn't deserve this mocking sort of punishment, not from another sinner who was surely at least equally guilty. He didn't.
"Your certainty warms the cockles of my heart."
"You already warmed my cockles plenty this morning. The only thing I have that needs warming now is my soul." His hope that the implied need to hold Alastor, to be held in return, would be understood was immediately dashed.
"That will require coffee. Come along, get dressed." Alastor tossed aside the icepack and got to work straightening his clothes.
It was a distraction tactic and Lucifer knew it, but he was allowing it, for now.
There had to be a way around Alastor's inability to talk about his deal, Lucifer was sure of it. The real question was how to get Alastor to want that, too, because so far, he'd been excruciatingly clear that he did not.
But if this deal maker was trying to challenge Lucifer by way of Alastor's face, then this wasn't only Alastor's deal anymore, it was something they should handle together.
(Let me, please, let me help you, tell me how I can help.)
Alastor was nearly straightened up, looping his tie on and settling his monocle into place beneath his thankfully uninjured eye. He showed no signs of waiting on Lucifer when coffee was beckoning and it was hard to blame him. Lucifer hastily dragged on his own clothes, although he did pointedly choose the alien pickle shorts. Not everyone could be boring in the underwear choices, Al.
He slid his feet into his boots right as Alastor began reaching for the doorknob, dashed over before he could escape, grabbing his hand. It wasn't just about coffee, no, it was more the need to keep Alastor in arm's reach a little longer. Bad things kept happening when he wandered off on his own and Lucifer couldn't help—
(yet)
--but he could try to keep Alastor close, at least for the morning.
"C'mon, let's take a short cut." He gestured and opened a portal directly into the hopefully empty kitchen. Alastor didn't move and Lucifer tugged his hand, coaxingly, "It's faster to get to where the coffee lives."
"In the interest of speeding our access to coffee," Alastor said, still visibly reluctant as he stepped through. He had to duck his head to fit which was both hilarious and humiliating in equal measure.
By someone's grace, the kitchen was unoccupied. Lucifer slung himself into one of the chairs to watch Alastor at the coffee pot. He ignored the container of coffee grounds on the countertop, reaching up into the highest cabinet where a foil bag was tucked behind a set of old pickle jars that no one used. Secret coffee grounds, indeed, the only other person on staff who might've been able to see his stash without a step stool was Angel, and he took an 'ordering out' approach when it came to the kitchen.
Alastor began scooping out grounds and paused, glancing his way. "You asked me to teach Charlie how I make coffee, were you angling for a lesson of your own?"
"Nah," Lucifer leaned back, rocking up on the back legs of the chair so he could prop his feet up on the table edge. But he did watch, even though it wasn't Alastor's hands that had his attention, seriously, how did he hide his tail under that coat, it was perfectly flat against his back, did other demons use pocket dimensions to store inconvenient body parts? Hopefully just their own, that was always a risk with Alastor.
Soon enough the rich aroma of brewing coffee was in the air and the last drop barely fell into the pot before Alastor was pulling it free, pouring two cups and carrying them to the table.
Lucifer watched his approach, only slightly less satisfying than watching him go, and gave him a lazy grin, "Why would I want to make my own coffee when I can have you serving me, my little coffee bean."
It was a calculated risk that Alastor would find him amusing rather than simply dumping the coffee over his head, but honestly? Both options would work for him, sometimes being an asshole was its own reward.
Alastor halted halfway to him and gave him a sour look. "I am not 'little', not as a whole nor in any of my parts. We won't get into the ridiculousness of your pet names."
He set both cups on the table, slapping Lucifer's feet back to the floor and before Lucifer could even reach for one of the cups, Alastor straddled his lap. For as tall as he was, Alastor was surprisingly light, crowding in close, and the distraction of his bruised face couldn't compete with the slide of his tongue over his teeth.
"You want to be served, your Majesty?" Alastor said, mockingly sweet, "I'll gladly remind you of my terms of service."
Oh, fuck, yes. Lucifer caught hold of the front of his shirt and started pulling Alastor down into a kiss. At almost exactly the same moment the door swung open and Charlie walked in.
This time it was Alastor who flailed backwards and nearly fell on the floor, all his normal grace transformed into long gangly limbs and skidding shoes. He hip-checked the table, coffee sloshing from both mugs and nearly stumbled over his own feet. Redness was crawling up his face from his neck, settling into his cheeks, a shade brighter than his eyes.
For her part, Charlie only sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, sure, now I catch you two," Charlie muttered, then louder, "I'm not looking, no looking here! La la la, just passing through!" She ducked her head and shielded her eyes with one hand as she beelined towards the coffee pot.
"Oh, stop it," Alastor said impatiently. It would have been a lot more convincing if he wasn't still as crimson as his coat. "I'm not going to ravish your father in your presence."
Lucifer wrinkled his nose. "I'm not sure she needs to know you ravish me outside her presence, either."
"Unless memory loss has somehow affected her overnight, she is already aware," Alastor sniffed.
Which, yeah, painfully true, except…Lucifer was pretty sure he should be more embarrassed by this, having his daughter walking in on him on the verge of necking with Alastor like a teenager and he just…wasn't. He was a little embarrassed, sure, but not 'death wish, find a bridge' embarrassed and Charlie was impressively unflappable, not flapped at all as she poured a cup of coffee and immediately began adding obscene amounts of sugar, which, frankly, was more embarrassing than getting caught.
Charlie took a sip of her coffee sludge and turned around, "Yeah, I'm pretty aware here…Alastor!" Charlie said, horrified. She thrust her mug onto the counter, splashing coffee across it and darted over to him, already raising a hand to his face, abortively curling it into a fist when he stepped back out of her reach. "What the hell happened!"
"It's only a—" Alastor began with a certain resignation, probably already imagining how many times he'd have to explain. Only to trail off as Charlie whirled away to face Lucifer and the hurt betrayal on her face made him blink in confusion until it clicked.
"Woah, hey, I didn't do it!" Lucifer yelped with no small amount of his own hurt. Did Charlie really think he hitAlastor? And what, that Alastor just allowed it? Never mind that slap from a few days back, that was absolutely not this, damn it. Fuck, he'd thought for a moment himself he might've done something in his sleep, could he really blame Charlie for—for thinking he might?
Charlie instantly looked ashamed which was not really what Lucifer wanted, fuck's sake, this was spiraling downward fast. "I'm so sorry, Dad, I didn't want to think—"
"Oh, come now, my dear," Alastor broke in. He reached for his mug on the table, holding it with the tips of his fingers as spilled coffee dripped from the bottom, offering them both a sly grin. "There is no reason to be shy. As much as you seem to enjoy discussing our bedroom preferences with the world at large, should we not admit to your more unusual tastes—"
Two voices rose in unison with nearly the same inflection, "Alastor!"
"Yes, yes," Alastor's smile widened, as much as it could. "As amusing as it would be to bemoan your father's beastly ways, no, this isn't his work. I'm afraid the fault is mine."
"No, it isn't," Lucifer and Charlie said in unison, huh, they were going to have to start working in stereo if they kept this up.
"It's only a black eye," Alastor said firmly. That was his story and he was damn well sticking to it, wasn't he.
Never mind that it wasn't only anything. Never mind that every time Lucifer saw his face it all flooded back again, that fury inside him that wanted someone to suffer for this rearing its ugly, hellish head.
Never mind that Charlie obviously felt at least somewhat the same.
Charlie snatched up her own cup, leaning against the counter as she stared moodily into its sugary depths. "Is this part of whatever super-secret thing you have going on?"
"Whatever do you mean?" Alastor asked, blatantly innocent and Lucifer couldn't help being grudgingly impressed. Faking ignorance and avoiding questions was by far more effective than coming up with a believable lie and Alastor was a unique talent.
Unfortunately for Alastor, Charlie was starting to catch on. She didn't call him on it, only gave him a look of mute disappointment, then shook her head, visibly rallying.
"Right then," Charlie said, brightly, "shelving that discussion and moving along. Today is the day, right?"
"Yes, indeed!" Alastor agreed, as brightly as Charlie, in his own way. He summoned his microphone and with it, the Radio Demon persona, dropping over him like a shield. "At eleven am, sharp!"
"Day for what?" Lucifer asked. He tried not to be disappointed at losing 'early morning Alastor' so quickly. He gathered up his own coffee cup and held it, the warmth soothing against his palms.
"Alastor is going to interview one of our guests on his radio show!" Charlie said enthusiastically.
"Really?" Lucifer said. He didn't mean to sound doubtful, it was just he was pretty sure that was supposed to be a dodge Alastor came up with to keep Charlie away from all this business.
"Yes," Alastor said, tartly, then brighter, "Yes, of course, haha!" He bowed over his microphone, then twirled it nimbly. "One of our very grateful guests is going to discuss their experience of staying at our hotel and I'm sure it will be a positive and encouraging endorsement!"
Positive and encouraging. Two traits that Alastor didn't exactly ooze, did he.
Charlie didn't seem worried, she only nodded happily. "It'll be great! Good luck or, um, break a leg? I'm not sure if that applies to radio."
"Oh, certainly!" Alastor chirped. "If I'm lucky, I might break two!"
"Riiiight," Charlie laughed nervously. "Okay, got to get to morning group. You two can just. Um. I'll see you both later!"
She fled, coffee cup in hand and they were alone.
Not that it mattered, from the way Alastor tucked his microphone under his arm to pour himself a second cup, Lucifer was gauging his chances of getting him back into his lap were right around zero.
He rolled his mug in his hands, thinking. Alastor obviously wasn't going to be able to hole up in their room until morning, even if he'd be willing, but thinking of him dealing with anyone he bumped into staring at his face all day long was already exhausting, especially if he was doing some kind of interview. Lucifer had an idea that might help if Alastor agreed. If.
"You know," Lucifer said, carefully, "Charlie isn't the only one going to make that assumption after seeing you."
"I know," Alastor said. If he was irritated by that idea, it didn't show past his smile. "I'll simply have to endure it until it heals. Despite your tendency to air our dirty laundry to the masses—"
"It was one time!"
"—bringing attention to it won't stop the gossip," Alastor went on blithely, "even if I could provide the true details. I'll simply have to endure that all of Hell not only knows you're fucking me, but that you're beating me as a side hobby."
"Yeah, I'd really like that to not happen." Lucifer took a deep breath and blurted, "I can't heal it, but I could put a glamour over it."
That got him a narrow look, crimson eyes cool and measured. "You mean use your powers on me directly," Alastor said flatly.
Yeah, he understood, not many demons appreciated that, much less an Overlord. It was invasive, intimate, and normally Lucifer wouldn't even consider offering. But the memory of Alastor's hands on his wings, inside his wings, inside him, was still very fresh, as intimate as they could possibly be. Lucifer had no issue with it.
He said nothing. He'd made the offer, it was up to Alastor if he accepted it, it wasn't Lucifer's reputation on the line. He doubted anyone in Hell would be surprised to find out anything awful about him, most hated creature in all of creation and all.
The silence stretched out until Alastor finally sighed, "Very well. You'll remove it in our room tonight." It was not a question.
"The very second the door closes," Lucifer reassured.
Instead of sitting in the chair, he crouched in front of Lucifer, tipped his head to the side and offered up his cheek. Trustingly, one might say, and Lucifer tried to swallow away the sudden lump in his throat.
He rested his hand on those bruises as gently as he could, the touch of his hand featherlight. Watched as they disappeared, hidden beneath his care, and even though Lucifer could no longer see them, he knew they were there.
He knew.
Lucifer leaned in to kiss Alastor's cheek when he was done, only the slightest brush of his lips. Until Alastor turned his head and caught Lucifer's mouth with his own, and Lucifer buried unspoken words into that kiss, tasting coffee and the faintest tang of brimstone, the eerie, ever-present green of Alastor.
It was Alastor who broke the kiss, climbing back to his feet and dusting off his knees with brisk strokes. "Well! I need to prepare for my show."
"Good luck," Lucifer said, softly, "or break a leg. Whichever."
"Neither will be necessary but thank you." Alastor hesitated, reaching out and tucking his knuckles under Lucifer's chin to tilt his head up. Crimson eyes studied his face as if memorizing it, thumb rubbing briefly across his lower lip.
Then Alastor turned on his heel and left without another word.
Lucifer let out a shaky sigh and drained his coffee cup, went over to get another before he headed out. Okay, this morning had been a little too thinky and a lot more everything else, he could use some downtime. Maybe Niffty needed some help this morning, he thought today was windows day and—
"Dad?"
He turned to see Charlie looking at him from around the edge of the door. "Hey, sweetie, what's up?"
She slipped inside, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. "I saw Alastor leave." She wrapped her arms wrapped around her middle, her face drawn with concern. "What's going on with him?"
Well, shit.
"I don't really know," Lucifer admitted, carefully. It wasn't like she didn't know something was up, Alastor said it himself, a little unkindly but still. Charlie was far from stupid. They'd never really talked about it after their aborted attempt at spying, but it looked like Charlie was rightly assuming he knew more than he was telling her. "And what I do, I can't tell you."
"Which is it?"
"Both," Lucifer said, shrugging. He hid behind his coffee cup, taking a long swallow, "Or either. You know about as much as I do." It wasn't much of an exaggeration.
Her eyes narrowed. "But something is definitely going on."
Shit. This was why Alastor usually handled this, he came up with a whole radio show for the hotel to keep Charlie out of it and Lucifer couldn't even manage a band-aid lie.
"Sweetheart, Alastor can handle it." Great, now he was doing it.
"Sure, he can." But she didn't sound anywhere near as confident as Lucifer would have liked. "Would you listen to his show today? I don't have time, but I want to make sure it goes well."
"Of course," Lucifer said, surprised. "But you aren't going to listen?"
"Not this time, considering I'm pretty sure he deliberately scheduled so I'd miss it," Charlie said dryly. "It seems rude when he went through all the effort."
Lucifer winced but couldn't stop a helpless smile. "Don't take shit from other demons, sweetheart."
"Does that include you?" She shot back, but her smile softened it. She leaned down to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Look out for him? I'm worried."
"I will," Lucifer said. He didn't add that he was worried, too.
He had a feeling his clever daughter already knew.
-finis-
Series