Author's Notes: Random AU HR3 oneshot. I can't believe I've actually written HR fluff…Pinhead should string me up on that basis alone (ugh, the squick of it all). Pure, unadulterated Elliot/Joey crackfic with humor on the side.

"Did I hurt you?"

When he first asked her that, Joey wasn't entirely sure how to respond. Elliot Spenser wouldn't exactly give one the impression that he was dangerous at a first glance, after all. He wasn't especially tall and Joey often joked with him that he had the muscle mass of an anorexic girl, the humor in which of course, was lost on him since anorexia wasn't a big concern when he'd been alive the first time. The truth was, if people didn't know him, they wouldn't know how dangerous he could honestly be.

People didn't know that his face had once looked very different, being completely devoid of blood and any color, with nails arranged in a grid that had been cut into his skin. They didn't know that his eyes had once been a fathomless black and he could kill a person by merely thinking about it. But Elliot Spenser didn't really like to kill his victims if he didn't have to – he much preferred to torture them to the point where they enjoyed it. "Did I?" he asked again, snapping her back to the present.

"No," she said, a small laugh in her voice as she rolled over to face him, bringing a hand up to touch the side of his face. "Why do you always ask me that?"

"I think it's quite the sensible thing to ask!" he replied, smiling. "I'm not all human. I still have a bit of a pain obsession, you know."

"Are we honestly gonna have the murdering bastard conversation again, because seriously, I think we've had it enough," she said. "I'm sick of it."

If someone had asked her how she'd ended up in bed with him in the first place, she really wouldn't have been able to answer. All right, so it was kind of easy to answer, but not for the right reasons. Having a former demon did have its advantages – advantages that probably meant she was going to hell for, but advantages nonetheless. If one really took the time to think about it, Elliot was very, very old. Too old for most women her age to really be thinking about in a more than platonic way if he didn't look like he was somewhere in his forties, but his age did give away to experience. It was experience that Joey didn't want to think about in the long run, since she had more than suspicions about what demons did intimately, but he satisfied her and that was that. Kirsty Cotton was an idiot for not giving it a try when it had so obviously been offered.

"All right, fine," said Elliot, turning over on his back and settling with his bony arms at his sides. "Change of subject. What will it be?"

"Are you slightly telekinetic?" she asked.

He turned his head, looking at her questioningly. "What?"

"Can you still do things with your mind?" she asked. "Because for a minute there, I could swear I felt…"

"All right, so you caught me," he replied. "Abuse of powers I shouldn't be using in the first place. Are you going to throw me out now?"

A grin came to her face as she moved closer to him, running a finger down one of the scars on his chest where the skin used to be peeled down. "I'll make an exception for that kind of abuse," she said. "But I might throw you out anyway…any luck on finding a job yet?"

He snorted in reply. "It seems New York has a short supply on jobs that have anything to do with loading and firing a gun while dealing with various aspects of the occult," he said dryly. "Plus, it's not like I can find a place that doesn't ask questions. Not exactly legal in this country, am I?"

"True," she said, sighing. "I wonder if you can get citizenship forms for a dead man. You could always work in a restaurant. They don't ask too many questions."

"Yeah," he said flatly. "I can see that. Might I take your order and possibly sacrifice your first born, sir? I'll be happy to bestow any of the other plagues of Egypt if you so wish. We don't charge for flayings – those are my favorite."

"You're a sick son of a bitch, you know that?" said Joey.

"Comes with the former job description," said Elliot. "I wish you'd stop asking me about that. Don't have any records whatsoever, animals large and small hate me, and most machines either switch off or on when I come near them. I still can't get the bloody microwave to work…and as far as the television goes, I'm not sure if the signal we pick up is even of this earth to be perfectly honest. Hell does sort of want me back."

"Maybe I should just whore you out," Joey said sarcastically. "I'd make a hell of a lot more than I do at the station."

"You couldn't do it," said Elliot, curling an arm around her as she laid her head against his chest. "You're the jealous type."

"You wish," said Joey.

"Kirsty Cotton," he said, knowing full well she hated it whenever he mentioned his former obsession.

"Fuck that bitch," Joey said bitterly.

"You don't even know her," said Elliot, absently tracing a hand up and down her spine.

"Neither do you," said Joey.

"Slightly telepathic as well, remember?" he retorted. "Oh, and by the way – used to be Leviathan's favorite son, too."

"Doesn't count," said Joey. "I said I'd only make one exception for the Jedi mind trick things."

"For sex," said Elliot.

"Exactly," said Joey.

"And what if we suddenly have to deal with something coming to take me back to Hell? Can I use my abilities then, mummy?" he said.

"I'll think about it," said Joey. "In the meantime, I have to find something better for you to do around here instead of reading Doctor Who fanfiction when you aren't obsessing over suffering."

"I do not read…!"

"Elliot, I've checked the history on my computer. If you want something to read, you know I have tons of books all over the house," Joey said flatly, loving every second of his discomfort as his ears turned slightly red.

"Oh yes, Battles of the 20th Century, I don't know anything about that," Elliot retorted sardonically. "And for your information, what I've been reading has been benefiting you whether you want to know it or not."

Joey sat up suddenly. "You're not serious," she said, grinning at him.

"The only things I used to use telekinesis for were folding the laundry and shutting the drapes over that infernal window," said Elliot.

"But I thought that was because…" she began.

"Demons do it a bit differently, love," he said, sitting up and tracing a finger over one of his scars. "It's what all the scars are for."

He wasn't entirely prepared for the pillow to hit him in the face, nor was he ready for Joey to tackle him the way she did. She often did that to him when she wanted information out of him, and often times there was little he could do to keep his still very demonic temper from rising up. This time for some reason however, he wasn't angry, but seriously wishing she'd stop her weekly late night French fry and ice cream binges, because as thin as she was, she was still heavy when throwing herself at him.

She hit him in the face with the pillow again, making sure he was flat on his back. She smiled evilly at him, the devious look doing nothing but make him very aware of his current position. "Did I hurt you?" she asked.