retrace our steps (Day 1: First Date)
Millie & Moxxie's first date was a flustered, but happy affair.
Now, years older and yet just as in love as ever, they relive that day.
All those years ago, Moxxie had asked Millie out in a quavering voice, pulling a scrappy little bunch of wildflowers out from behind his back.
He'd picked out the most symbolic blossoms he could find in the rust-tinted meadow that his new boss's van had broken down in. Lance-leaved coreopsis for her cheerful nature; fluffy daffodils for the extremely high regard he held her in; thyme for her strength; and a single white clover as a request: think of me, think of me fondly.
She'd said yes, of course. How could she not? He was adorkable, obviously crushing so hard on her and yet oblivious to her own little hints of reciprocated interest. She did not need to know what the flowers meant; that he'd made the effort not merely to impress her, but to actually, properly court her, spoke volumes in itself.
It had been the start of something beautiful.
A little more than two decades later, Millie sits in her favourite spot on their sofa, polishing her trusty axe. In the reflection of its blade, she can see her hair is just starting to grey, and her body has filled out a bit too, thanks to years of motherhood and of living the good life – but by Lucifer she knows she can still kick some ass.
She's got it as good as it gets in Hell, she reckons. She's got her job, and it's going swell; she's risen up through the ranks at I.M.P. and when she's not going topside she's passing down her know-how to the next generation of assassins. She's got a family, a boisterous, bustling, bloodthirsty home filled with shrieking laughter and moody teenagers and the dents in the wall from when play-fights got a bit too intense.
And, most importantly, Millie's got the love of her life by her side.
Familiar hoofsteps tap across their living room floor, and Moxxie's face – the first wrinkles and smile lines branching out from behind his new pair of spectacles – emerges from behind yet another bunch of flowers.
It's the same bouquet he first gave her; but much more lavish and topped with new additions. A yarrow (for everlasting love), a dwarf sunflower (for adoration), and a pink rose (for happiness).
"Can I tempt you with a walk down memory lane, honey?" Moxxie asks in a charming purr, tinted even after all their time together with a tiny respectful touch of meekness.
Of course he can.
Their kids are growing up fast, scattering about Imp City on sleepovers and in college dorms. Millie & Moxxie have a day to themselves; why not spend it on a reminiscent outing? Make it a day to feel young again and forget the slight stiffness that vexes their joints, to re-stoke the ever-burning fire that is their love.
Millie takes the flowers and Moxxie's proffered hand with a grin as dazzling as it always has been.
"Do ya even have to ask, Moxx'?"
All those years ago, Moxxie had fretted and fussed about what to actually do on that crucial first date, because he hadn't really thought past the 'asking Millie out' part.
(The little voices in his head that sounded unpleasantly like his parents had told him she'd turn him down. He'd crowed and revelled in their silence when he'd proved those voices wrong.)
So, he'd racked his mind trying to remember what snacks she brought to work, how she took her coffee, the small talk she'd make about her family life out on a ranch in Wrath.
In the end Moxxie had thrown his hands up and dug into his savings a little to take Millie out on a somewhat generic date; to the nicest café in his quarter of Imp City. The one that didn't have too many bullet holes in the brickwork. The one where the barista knew just how he liked his Neapolitan cappuccino and his Venti Traditional Misto and didn't mangle the spelling of his name too badly.
He'd tried to hide his nervousness behind a bowtie and a tweed jacket, behind altogether too much antiperspirant and cheap cologne, behind a wide and wobbly smile that he hoped would be natural enough to pass.
A smile which had turned genuine when he knocked on Millie's apartment door and she answered it almost immediately. A smile which was joined by a blush at her casual yet effortlessly pretty outfit (an unbuttoned flannel over a black tanktop & shorts), a blush that deepened when she called his bowtie 'dapper'.
A smile that had widened with relief when Millie had called the little café "swanky", and delightedly declared she wanted to try something she'd never had before.
"Mah da calls me his lil' Pumpkin Spice still," she'd chirped, and ordered a pumpkin spice latte which she would go on to declare "delicious".
The café is still there, still doing good business, still in the hands of the same family. It has fewer bullet holes in the walls now, and a sorta-nice outdoor dining area too (if you can bear the traffic noise and fumes); other than that's it's barely changed.
The new barista still spells Moxxie's name with only one X though.
Millie chuckles at Moxxie's exasperation as they pick up their order. It's some consolation that his usual Neapolitan cappuccino tastes good as ever, and judging by the sparkle in Millie's eyes as she sips a vanilla mocha she's enjoying her choice of drink today as well.
They settle in a window booth and share a sweet pumpkin pie, and indulge in each other's expressions of appreciative bliss.
After eating and drinking their fill, all those years ago, they'd gone on a little stroll.
The cityscape had still been a little alien to Millie back then, all brick & concrete and high rises that obscured the horizon and screwed with her sense of direction. Though she'd lived in Imp City for a few months now, looking for work, she'd still found herself lost from time to time.
Moxxie had seemed to know the way, though, and that eased her mind. He'd led her through a maze of streets and alleyways, past squat run-down housing blocks and junkyards and the odd drug den…until they came to a little patch of river bank that someone had nurtured into an oasis.
Little saplings and shrubs poked out of the spoiled soil, vines crawled up the side of a nearby building, even a few water lilies augmented the trash-speckled waters and made it seem just that little less polluted. Somehow it was better than the soulless little parks that had begrudgingly been built into the segregated slum that was Imp City.
"I thought you might appreciate a little actual plant life in this urban jungle," Moxxie had said. "Knowing you're from rural Wrath – but not to make any presumptions of-of stereotypes, I-"
"Ah do," she'd replied earnestly, giggling a little at his well-meant fluster. "This place is lovely, Moxxie. Thanks for showing me, really."
She'd rested her head on his shoulder, watched the wind rustle the carmine foliage and felt the warmth of his intensifying blush even through the collar of his shirt.
After eating and drinking their fill, today, they once again go on a little stroll.
This time they both know the way. The winding backalleys have remained a constant through the years, though the run-down apartment blocks and junkyards have long been demolished and replaced with taller, but no less tacky (and no less inhabited by junkies) condo towers and warehouses.
When they get there, that little oasis has flourished and bloomed. The saplings are now trees, some flowering and sprinkling loose petals over the scene; the water lilies and duckweed span the entire breadth of the stream, the climbing vines have completely taken over the walls that box in this wild improvised garden.
A little slice of Eden. A refuge from the chaos of the main streets. A refuge even from Blitzø's invasive eyes, for he'd never managed to track them here in all his bygone years of stalking. Millie and Moxxie have watched this place grow, and they've grown with it too, and even though it's not technically theirs it is theirs.
Millie & Moxxie lean into each other with a sigh, sitting in the middle of the lush riverbank, not caring one bit about the mud and leaves getting on their clothes.
All those years ago, twilight had begun to fall as Moxxie escorted Millie back to her apartment. The date had gone well, he'd thought. Hoped. Some relaxing, yet romantic activities, some conversation, some getting to know each other better than 'just work friends'.
He'd squashed down the ever-present self-doubt that had still burbled away in the pit of his gut, and tried to turn his attention outwards again. To the way the flickering of the streetlights had played on her hair. To her hand in his. To a familiar tune that drifted down from someone's window.
Without realizing it, he'd started to sing along under his breath.
"Say you love me, every waking moment.
Turn my head with talk of summertime
Say you need me with you now and always—"
"Moxxie?" Millie had tugged him to a halt and stared at him, her eyes wide. "Ya never told me ya sang!"
He had shrunk in on himself in embarrassment. "Um – it's nothing, it's supposed to be operatic … I'm not really that…sorry if it bothers you-"
"No, no, don't put yaself down! Ah liked it! Ya sounded – well, ya sounded pretty charmin'!" She'd blushed. She had blushed, and his heart had proceeded to do cartwheels. "What was the song?
"Well, it's called 'All I Ask Of You'. It's from 'Phantom of the Opera'."
Millie had looked so genuinely interested. "Ya'll have to take me along to see it someday, n' teach me the words."
"Sure thing!" Moxxie had squeaked, because Millie was talking about going on another date?!
"Could ya sing it again? From the start?"
So he had. Though he hadn't brought his guitar, though his throat had clammed up, he'd sang, and the look of wonder she'd given him had spurred him on to sing louder and clearer and unashamed.
They'd passed in and out of the shadows on the sidewalk, to the sound of "no more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears." Up the rickety staircase of Millie's apartment block, as the first spits of acid rain came pelting down, to "Let me be your shelter, let me be your light".
Right to Millie's door, as Moxxie reached, "Share each day with me each night, each morning…"
He'd left the last note hanging, and in that pause, she'd cupped his cheek and kissed him.
"See ya at work tomorrow, Moxx'" Millie had beamed. "Thanks for a great afternoon. We'll do it again sometime, alright?"
"Y-yeah… of course!" He'd felt like he could melt right there on the spot, even after she'd closed the door with one more lingering smile. It was a feeling he would always cherish, always remember vividly, always relive every time they would go on to kiss.
Not even minding the acid rain stinging at his skin and eating away at his jacket and bowtie, he'd made his dreamy way back down the steps, back to his own apartment.
Today, they both know all the lyrics. Millie sings Raoul's part, and Moxxie sings Christine's.
He didn't bring his guitar again, but do they really need it? Their voices are the sweetest musical instruments to their ears, each other is all the accompaniment they need.
Then say you'll share with me
One love, one lifetime
Let me lead you from your solitude
They each mean all of it, even though what they sing of has already come to pass. Moxxie has shared his love, his life, his entire self with Millie, and she has guarded and guided him out of his once-so-introverted shell. He can't imagine an afterlife without her anymore, and neither can she.
Say you'll share with me
One love, one lifetime
Say the word and I will follow you
At their slower pace, and with the longer walk to their home, Millie and Moxxie have enough time to sing the song twice over on their way back. Along the footpaths, oblivious to the bemused looks they get from their used-to-it neighbours. Into the elevator, up to their floor and deposited right outside their apartment door.
Say you love me
You know I do
Love me—that's all I ask of you
It's Moxxie who opens their apartment door and beckons Millie inside. It's Millie who leaps into his arms, wraps her arms around his neck, and draws him in for a long, sweet, kiss, before they duet the last lines of their song.
Anywhere you go, let me go too
Love me—that's all I ask of you
He carries her bridal style back over the threshold into their home sweet home. Millie tucks her head against his shoulder.
"Aww, thanks Moxx," she sighs.
"I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, honey," Moxxie coos, letting Millie back down to the ground.
"Sure did! It's swell to feel a bit younger." She stretches, her joints popping, and then casts her gaze around their empty apartment.
They've still got time to themselves, they both realize.
"You know…" Millie purrs, "the day ain't done. Still got an hour before the kids get back for dinner." She alluringly teases the top button of Moxxie's shirt. "Would be a shame to sit around in messy clothes until then."
"Ooh, crumbs," Moxxie smirks and flushes. "Yes, it would be, wouldn't it?" His fingers find hers and together they work on unbuttoning his shirt.
They took each other's heart long ago, now they take each others hands. Millie and Moxxie waltz their way into their bedroom, and shut the door behind them.