From the topmost floor of the Happy Hotel, in Charlie's bedroom, she saw the nightlife glow of the city and smelled its squalor, like sun-dried garbage. She loved this room. It was worth every flight of steps for the distant view of the Pentagram. After shutting the shutters, she climbed back into bed, to give Vaggie a baby-bear hug while she crocheted a scarf.
They were planning Charlie's birthday: a game night, hosted five days from now. She'd had so many, many birthdays, and this time, she was excited to share it with the hotel guests, to give them some pleasant diversion. Hell loves a party, as her mother used to say. Yesterday, they ordered balloons (but no helium, as Vaggie insisted it was a finite resource); today they posted invitations under the guests' doors, and Charlie checked her phone for responses.
"How many now?"
"Let's see… Four emails. Oh, Husk is coming! That's a surprise."
"Probably expects gambling," said Vaggie. "Who else?"
"Angel Dust, Leslie, that Charcoal guy…" Charlie hesitated. She knew her next sentence would unsettle Vaggie no matter what. "And, uh… Alastor, bless him, he slipped me a letter today. The stationery was so-"
"What?" Vaggie stiffened. "Tell me you didn't invite him."
Charlie stayed quiet, and had to stop Vaggie from falling, exasperated onto her own crochet hooks. "Careful! You'll lose the other eye!"
"He's going to fuck things up. I know it."
"Well, I couldn't not invite him," Charlie explained. "He'd find out one way or another."
"God, it would've been so easy to get rid of him for an evening. Just say 'Oh, Vox challenged you to a duel' and-"
"It'll be fine!"
"That's what we said about the talent show, Char," said Vaggie, sliding onto her back to gaze abjectly at the ceiling. "Then Alastor interfered with that somehow. The pole falling down, Les looking so unhappy… I can't prove anything, but-"
"But why would he? I've thought it over, and it doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't have to. He likes wreaking chaos."
Charlie hugged her tighter. "Look, if something goes wrong with game night… you can hate me, OK?"
"I can't do that," Vaggie said.
Charlie knew something was up… that one unspoken truth. Something about the Radio Demon really brought up Vaggie's hackles. "She's mine!" her posture said, "She's not for you!" - but Charlie didn't see any cause for concern. Alastor could try to break them apart until he was purple in the face. It wasn't happening, and Charlie had said this often enough. They lay here for a moment, each worrying about the other, until Vaggie flipped over and planted a kiss on her knee. "Hey, you're an old lady now. I can't be fighting all your battles for you."
"Less of the old lady," said Charlie, smiling. "Don't worry, we'll both keep an eye on Al. Team Chaggie all the way." Vaggie laughed, wrinkling her nose. It was a silly ship name, but they liked it anyway. Charlie looked her in the eye and felt her heart bloom."Love you," she said.
"I love you too, Princess." She crawled into Charlie's arms, the scarf long forgotten, and lay stroking each other's arms. There was a wonderful kind of comfort there, a feeling of being cared for that nobody else gave her. As they kissed, this feeling grew and changed, building steam. It was natural, unhurried. Nothing was said.
Vaggie broke away long enough to tumble across the bed, to her side, and the lamp went out.
o - o - o - o - o
Leslie struggled to pick out thoughtful presents. No matter the occasion, no matter how hard she tried, she never achieved that look of pure gushing joy from the receiver. Nonetheless, a trio of bath bombs was a safe bet, and they were easy to wrap.
She left her gift on the stage in the reception hall, where Charlie had the invitees gather. ('Don't be late!', the invite said.) Angel Dust compared his jacket to the unperky pink and white balloons pinned to the walls.
"Oh yeah," Leslie said. "You don't sound super happy."
"Ahh, I dunno. It's Friday night," Angel admitted. "I could be out clubbin' right now."
"Is Cherri here yet?"
"Nah, she ducked out."
"Not her idea of fun?" said Alastor, and Leslie jumped. He'd appeared again without warning.
"Oh my God! You're here? Why are you here?"
Alastor cackled. "I wouldn't dream of missing this," he said. "I like a good game as much as the next man!"
"Not if I'm the next man," Angel Dust said. "Shouldn't we be at the Front Desk? Y'know, where the card table is?"
"Seconded," said Husk, sidling up to join them.
The men around her shot the breeze while Leslie stood rigidly in Alastor's shadow. After weeks of secretive encounters, she didn't know how to behave with him in public. Last Friday, he took a dinner fork and ran the prongs over her skin, testing her pain tolerance with careful prodding; now she was meant to socialize like it hadn't happened? Where was the acceptable middle ground between over-familiarity and cold ignorance, and how did she perform it?
Vaggie came over in a conservative pastel frock, pinning neon badges to their clothes and counting each demon (Leslie made thirteen). Meanwhile, Charlie made the rounds in her wine-colored tuxedo to thank them all for coming.
"Alright!" she said, "Let's kick off with a game that's kind of active, something that lets us go and explore! Who knows how to play... Sardines?"
"I'm out!" Three demons discarded their badges and left the room, including Kain, whom Leslie hadn't spotted until now. They were down to ten. For those who didn't know, Vaggie explained the game: it was a variation on hide and seek, and every time someone found a player's hiding spot, they'd clamber into that spot with them, and wait to be found.
"Sounds thrilling," Angel harrumphed, crossing four of his arms.
"Who wants to be the first to hide?" Charlie offered, with that puppy-dog smile of hers. Leslie sighed. It was a lame idea, in her opinion, but what the hell. It was Charlie's birthday, not hers.
"I'll do it," she said.
"Great! Off you go then."
"Just… anywhere in the hotel?"
"Up to the fifth floor - if you get the door open, it's fair game! Good luck!"
Leslie left just as Vaggie commenced a two-minute countdown. Not long at all, so she hightailed it to floor five and hoped to find a suitable place when she got there. Halfway along the corridor, in an empty office room, she saw a wardrobe as wide as it was tall.
"This'll do," she told herself, and got in.
The inside of the wardrobe held only a few fur coats on wire hangers, along with some shoeboxes she kicked aside. The walls dampened all exterior noise, making it thin and woody. She sang quietly awhile, the silliest songs she could think of.
"Won't you take me to… Funkytown? Won't you take me to-?"
"Hello, Leslie."
"AAH! Jesus Christ." Leslie flinched, but stayed facing forward. "Don't do that!"
"Apologies," he half-whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you… No, that's a lie. I meant it." Alastor placed two fingers against her neck, feeling for the elevated pulse, the thud-thud-thud he liked so much.
"I've never played this before," Leslie said, "but I'm pretty sure teleportation's a form of cheating."
"Certainly is!" Alastor stood straight, rattling some hangers. "And now we wait."
"Yep," Leslie said. Her heart still pounded, and the need to be quiet, the chance of being discovered, was giving her ideas. "What should we do to pass the time?"
"Getting a little bold these days," he reproved.
"I'm just flirting."
"No flirting allowed in Funkytown."
"Oh, you…! Aauugh. Never mind, forget it." Leslie prepared to sulk in silence until the next player found them, but then Alastor spoke into her ear in a wickedly dark tone.
"Turn around," he said.
Ohhhhh no. "Wait, really? Why?"
His hand moved from her pulse point to her right shoulder, as she shuffled to face him. "Because I want to." His eyes glowed red, tingeing the walls of the wardrobe.
"But why?"
"Because I want to. Now... shush."
Alastor bent down as she stretched to meet him, and their mouths connected. She loved his burning heat, the static that grew louder as they embraced. Even if it was hyperbole for her sake, she loved it anyway. His teeth caught her bottom lip and bit it: hard enough to make her squeak, not hard enough to draw blood. He was learning.
Moved by the sudden intimacy, she moved her hands beneath his coat, with a view to touching bare skin - but a sudden noise ruined their fun. Someone entered the room. Leslie and Alastor quietly, carefully moved apart and straightened their attire.
"I wonder who's behind... curtain number one!" Angel Dust's grossly sarcastic self flung open the doors. "Found ya!"
Leslie channeled her disappointment into a congratulatory smile. "Ahh ha ha! Hi, Angel!"
He examined their hiding spot. "Nice choice. Hope we'll all fit here. A'right, I'm gettin' in," he warned. They made space for him as he crouched beside Alastor, too tall to be comfortable in the closet. "...So we just stand here?"
"That's the idea."
"Honestly, rather be doing anything else right now."
"Then leave," Leslie said.
"'Scuse me?"
"Go grab a drink or something. We won't tell Charlie you found us."
He sucked in air. "That is temptin'," he said. "Ahh, but I might never come back - and you lot'd be stuck in the closet forever. Not that kind of closet! ...though, Al, fuck knows with you."
"By all means," said Alastor dryly, "continue to speculate."
They passed the next few moments in bored silence, until Leslie felt Alastor's hand at the small of her back. He made small, slow motions with his claw tips; it was quite ticklish. She bit her tongue, trying not to laugh or squirm.
Charlie and Vaggie were next. The former seemed ecstatic that her game was going well. "This is great!" she grinned, getting in. "I can't wait for this spot to be full of people."
"Aw, yeah, we're havin' a whale of a time," Angel said with false glee. "I'm lookin' forward to Husk gettin' in here with his great big fuckin' wings and maybe his fleas if we're lucky."
"You're not fooling anyone," Charlie retorted. "We all know you'd love to be in a tight spot with Husk."
"Ah, fuck. Who told?"
Vaggie (to prevent mischief, Leslie assumed) wedged herself between her girlfriend and Alastor with a glare. If they only knew what his hand was doing... Leslie could have slapped him, she really could. It was one thing to insist on discretion, it was another to make it a challenge by fondling her spine in a crowded closet.
She let out a noise.
"What're ya laughing at?"
Shit. "I just remembered a funny joke," she said. "So, er, these three strangers meet in a bar, and they find out they're all beekeepers-"
The door to the office swung open, and a surly grumble emanated from outside the closet. "Oh, here we go," Angel said. "Hey, handsome! Get in quick, before Les has to start over."
"Getting too close for comfort," Alastor announced. "I'll be outside!" Then Leslie felt him vanish, but he didn't teleport far; the curtains visibly rustled across the room as Husk opened the closet doors.
"That's not how the game works!" said Charlie.
"If he's getting out, I'm getting out," said Angel Dust.
"Angel, no! We have to be in the same-"
"Gimme a break! I'm too fukken tall for this shit!" Angel staggered to freedom like a mantis on stilts, approaching the window. "How's it goin', Al? Alone at last."
"The other curtain, rulebreaker."
"Prude."
o - o - o - o - o
Their game finally finished with the arrival of the last seeker, who smelled of bile. (Thank God he wasn't in the closet all this time, Leslie thought.) When Alastor emerged from the curtain, he and Leslie exchanged a look, as if to acknowledge the secretive attentions from before.
Back downstairs, the group took a break to drink from a punch bowl which, Leslie was told, had been spiked by Husk during the sardines game, and not to tell Charlie or Vaggie. More wholesome games followed. First they had a race to see which demon could wrap their partner in bandages the fastest. A competitive Angel Dust quickly grabbed Leslie, tiny thing that she was. He whistled to himself as he mummified her legs.
"OK!" he said, "Torso! Go!" and she revolved in place to aid in the wrapping.
Across the hall, the word "Eeeeeee!" came from Niffty as Alastor made her spin in midair, like a frog caught in a blender, and Vaggie disqualified him for using his powers. A minute later, Husk and Baxter were declared the winners.
Next was a variation of Scissors Paper Rock, except they split into two groups to decide what to call out for each round. Charlie's group (to which Leslie belonged) shouted Rock; Vaggie's group yelled Paper and then ran to 'catch' the losing players. Leslie darted around her half of the hall, avoiding two demons before Alastor came bounding after her. Within three seconds he snatched her around the waist.
"Ow! Watch the claws."
He only laughed. So she laughed, and went for more punch during the next round. This time, Alastor caught the birthday girl, tickling her, and Leslie suppressed her jealous twinge - unlike Vaggie, who warned Alastor away with her spear.
"How about a non-physical game?" Charlie suggested, prying the two apart. "Never have I ever?" So the group refilled their drinks and sat in a circle of chairs. "Usual rules" she declared. "Last to be eliminated wins."
"Let's make this interesting!" Alastor said, and stretched out his hand. "I'll make sure none of us are able to lie!" He was met with hesitant grumbles. "Well, what's the point of playing otherwise?"
The group shrugged and placed their hands atop his. Leslie remembered the first time he'd used this form of mojo, during their quid pro quo, so she knew it worked.
"I'll start," Charlie beamed. "Never have I ever… ridden a horse." Most demons kept their fingers.
"I rode a guy who looked like a horse, so… I'm countin' it," said Angel Dust, lowering a single digit.
Baxter's turn. "Never have I ever fired a gun." Almost everyone lost a finger.
"Never have I…" Leslie grappled for a thing she hadn't done, and caught Alastor's gaze. "...bought anything on vinyl."
Both he and Angel had done this. "Ha," Angel taunted, "catching me up, Smiles!"
They continued around the circle, and Leslie consistently had the most phalanges. It meant she was a boring shit, but hey, maybe she'd win the game.
She raised her cup to her mouth as Alastor finally had his turn. "Never have I ever... taken hard drugs," he said - and Leslie chose that moment to clumsily drop the punch straight into her lap. Most of it splashed straight up to lick her in the face before soaking her dress. Temporarily blinded, she could only hear assorted cackles, then felt Niffty spring on top of her and dab her with a cloth.
"Niffty, stop! Jesus!"
"You OK?" Charlie asked, leaning forward.
Leslie nodded, standing, wiping her eyes. "Yeah, sorry. I tap out. See you guys. Happy birthday again."
She resisted the urge to double-wink at Alastor before sweeping out of the hall. If he didn't view that as 'against the rules', the visual of her being drenched in fruit juice probably destroyed her chances anyway. Never mind. At least they had that moment in the closet. At least, Leslie reflected, stripping out of her sticky dress in the first floor restroom, she'd left the game before he revealed anything too personal.