A/N: Yeah, so I was a little off about that initial chapter count being around 11. Hope no one minds this'll run a bit longer. I hadn't originally planned to have this scene in, but it made sense to me to follow up on some of the conflict from the previous chapters.

Chapter 11: The Play

For a second, neither of them moved. Angel recovered first, putting on his most winning smile. "Listen, Husky, there's somewhere I gotta go. I'll come right back when I'm done, promise." And he crossed his heart over his chest.

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"To check up on Molls, of course! You think I'd trust my Pops to know how to take care of her?"

"All right. Then I'm goin' with you."

Angel bit his lip, struggling to hold Husk's gaze. Any second now he was sure one of the other Hazbins would walk in and then it would become impossible to leave. "Fraid I can't let you do that, Husky. This – this is family business, y'know?"

"I wouldn't cramp your style, spider. I can wait outside while you talk to sis. No big." And he shrugged, like it was just a normal, casual conversation they were having.

Angel ground his teeth. There was no way to say 'no, you can't' without looking like he was obviously lying.

"No, you can't," he said.

Husk raised an eyebrow, his fangs starting to poke out of his mouth as he growled. Angel's fists clenched. Husk looked seconds away from a full transformation. If they started a fight right here, Angel might be able to win but he'd be done for the minute anyone else heard and got involved.

"You're gonna run back to Val, aren't ya?" he snarled. "What the hell are you thinking?"

Angel set his bag down on the bar. No matter what, he could not let the bottle within get broken. "Maybe I am. But so what? We both know your mate Smiles ain't gonna lift a finger to help us when it comes down to it." When Husk didn't deny it, Angel pressed on, an angry heat building in his chest. "And besides, whadda you care, Husker?" he hissed, still trying to keep his voice down. "You don't like me. You ain't never liked me. I see the way you fidget whenever I smile at ya or act nice around ya."

Husk's transformation was momentarily stalled as his jaw dropped. "Act nice? All you do is flirt with me!"

"Yeah, and ya ain't interested, and ya hate my guts. I got the memo, so get outta my way!"

"You infuriating…" Husk raked his claw down over his face, pulling at his fur. "Are you really that stupid?"

"You-" Angel bit back his words, refusing to rise to the bait, refusing to hear them. And across from him Husk was visibly getting angrier and angrier and Angel knew if he didn't contain this in the next few seconds, his plan was as good as wrecked.

So he flinched back, letting all the fear show on his face and then some, collapsing to the floor and begging, "Don't, Husk, please don't, I don't wanna do this with ya-" and carrying on in a stream of unintelligible begging.

Far from his proudest moment, but it had the intended purpose – the deadly aura filling the room evaporated, Husk kneeling down next to Angel and very awkwardly patting him on the shoulder.

"Look, spider, you don't gotta – come on, Angel, stop that now and just talk to me-"

Angel looked up, big eyes filled with tears that weren't entirely fake at this point and threw his arms around Husk, all six wrapping around the cat demon and clinging on tight.

Husk was a lot softer than he'd been expecting – his fur always had kind of a coarse look about it, probably from his hard drinking and tough guy attitude meaning he didn't invest heavily in his appearance like Angel did. But he was soft to the touch, and warm. It was almost...comforting.

Which was the last reaction Angel expected to have in a situation like this.

Husk's arms were hovering awkwardly around Angel's back, not touching him. "Look, Angel – it's really – you just – you gotta..."

Angel let himself enjoy the hug and listen to Husk scrambling to find words for a second or two longer before turning his head so he could whisper close to the demon's ear, "Let's you and me get a drink when this is all over, OK, Husky?"

And he turned and sunk his fangs straight into Husk's neck.

The bartender yelled, crying out in surprise and trying to shove Angel off of him, but it was too late: Angel had pierced the skin and delivered his venom, his fangs ripped from Husk's flesh just as he tasted blood.

Immediately Husk's hand went to his neck and he opened his jaws wide to scream bloody murder but Angel clamped a hand over his mouth, his arms winding around Husk to help him sit down as he wobbled on unsteady legs.

"You're gonna feel a bit woozy for a bit, but don't be alarmed," Angel told him, encouraging the cat to sit down on the floor. "Disoriented and that. It can be pleasant – I mean, if you're into that sort thing." And some of his clients were, he remembered, licking Husk's blood off his teeth and letting his fangs retract. He'd stupidly expected Husk's blood to taste like 100% proof, like a pure shot of vodka between his teeth.

It didn't. It tasted bitter.

Angel let go, stepping back when the cat tried one last futile attempts to grab at his legs.

"Don't be...fuckin' stupid…" Husk said, already slurring his words.

And there was a look on his face Angel had never expected to see: betrayal. Actual genuine hurt.

Angel had tricked him, stolen from him, been rejected by him time after time, and Husk still didn't want him to go. Angel couldn't help it, he leant forward and took Husk's head in his hands, planting a kiss on top of his head and murmuring a deeply affectionate word of thanks.

In Italian, so Husk wouldn't ever know what he'd said.

And then Husk shoved him away, yowled a cat-like yowl at the top of his lungs. Angel froze, looking up to the ceiling and already he could hear a disturbance up above. Someone had heard.

Seizing up the gym bag, Angel sprinted flat-out for the door, something dark and shadowy whizzing right by his head and he made it to the door and outside.

If they set Al on him he'd never outrun him so he instead rushed for the limo parked out front, slamming the hood open and hotwiring the thing in ten seconds flat.

Pops would've been proud.

Angel smashed the driver's side window in with the butt of one of his pistols and yanked the door open, getting into the driver's seat and putting the bag down next to him just as he heard voices form within the hotel. He'd just gotten the engine all revved up and made a screeching U-turn in the street when the hotel doors burst open and Charlie made it to the kerb just in time for their eyes to lock before the car went screeching past, Angel skidding magnificently around the corner as he struggled to compensate for the longer length of the vehicle.

But he didn't stop, he didn't slow down.

The hotel got smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror until at last, it vanished on the horizon.

He was on his way.