WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of racism, including the N word. Well, considering the two main characters are both black and one grew up in a time of segregation, and the other during the Civil Rights Movement, it's an issue that needs to be addressed.

Title Song: "What'll I Do?" by Frank Sinatra

"What do you mean you won't serve me anymore?" Alastor demanded, slamming his fists on the bar counter. "All I'm asking for is one teensy glass of liquor!"

"Sorry, Al." Husk shrugged. "Boss's orders."

Vodou symbols emitted from the Radio Demon. "I'm your boss."

"And Tina's your boss."

The symbols vanished as his jaw dropped. "She's not my…" He shook his head. "I'm the one who hired you for this job, I'm the one who owns your soul!"

"And Tina said if I so much as served you a drop of liquor, not only is she gonna cut off my supply, but she's gonna play me a recording of her sonic screech. At full volume." Husk pointed to his ears. "With ear buds."

Alastor's shoulders slumped as he sighed. "Never say my little darling isn't creative in her threats." He crossed his arms. "What right does she have to interfere in my personal affairs?"

"Really?" Husk started listing off his claws. "Confiscating her boombox, her tube tops, her bikinis. I don't have enough claws to count how many times she's come crying to me about you butting into her personal biz. If you ask me, it's about time she gave you a taste of your own medicine."

Alastor leaned onto his fist with a snort. "I'm not getting a taste of anything now, thanks to her."

It didn't matter. He could always conjure himself a drink, but he did like being served by someone else. It made him nostalgic for the speakeasies during Prohibition. If that hadn't stopped him from drinking, why should his wife?

"I never had a problem with her sobriety," Alastor said, "but why does she have to rope me into this?"

"Hey, I ain't big on the whole sober thing either," Husk said, gesturing back to his bottle display. "But you're the one looking to get back on Tina's good side, so I'd play along if I were you. Plus…" He glanced around and lowered his voice. "You don't wanna go scaring the shit outta her like you did last night."

Alastor's smile shrank. "I would never mean to hurt her, Husker. You know that."

Husk wiped the counter down. "I know."

That was the truth. Husk had known the Radio Demon for almost a century now. He didn't care much for anyone. If he was offended, he would punish the offender with no hesitation. Even the few he considered friends weren't exempt from his wrath. Husk knew he'd meet his final destruction someday. If not by an angel's spear, then by Alastor's microphone.

But then Tina had come along. And she had soon become the exception to every one of the Radio Demon's rules. She could insult him, touch him, slap him and he'd have no qualms about it. He was a completely different person around her, accommodating to her every whim, enraptured in every little thing she did. Even if Husk hadn't watched them together over the years, there was no denying that Alastor truly loved his wife.

That didn't mean he wasn't selfish about it. Love could change a person, but not that much. He was the same, old, stubborn man-child Husk had had the displeasure of meeting back in the Great Depression.

"Aw, Al." Charlie sat at the counter with a pouted lip. "Are you upset because you're in withdrawal?"

Alastor grunted. "Not even my mother was this much of a nag."

"Yeah, and how did that turn out for her?" Husk shut his mouth as soon as he realized what he just said. "Fuck. Al, I didn't mean it like—"

Alastor's fists came down, his eyes transforming into dials as his antlers grew.

"H-Hey!" Charlie raised her hand. "I know what'll cheer you up! Why don't you go help Tina plan for the Valentine's Day party? She's in her office right now!"

At the mention of his wife, the Radio Demon instantly calmed down. "What a…splendid idea, Charlie! I'll go do that right now!"

As if he hadn't been about to throttle the cat, Alastor got up and left the lobby, humming a chipper tune. Charlie squealed in excitement.

"What'd I say about not getting involved?" Husk asked.

Charlie gasped. "W-What? I'm not getting involved!" She forced a laugh. "I just, uh, remembered Tina needed help and Al needed something to do so, uh…you know?"

"You ain't fooling nobody." Husk crossed his arms. "You're throwing them together in work, in hopes that they'll make up and that Alastor will be all for your whole redemption thing."

Charlie hung her head back with a groan. "Okay, so what if I'm hoping they'll get back together? Would that be such a bad thing?"

"Considering what happened last time they got all romantic, yes."

"Why?" The Princess leaned forward. "What happened?"

"Nope." Husk held up a paw. "Sworn to secrecy. And like I said, best not to get involved."

Charlie curled her lip and laced her hands together. "Please, Husk? It would be so much easier to help them if I knew what was going on."

"Kid, put it this way." Husk settled his arms on the counter. "If they can't work it out themselves, what makes you think you can?"

Charlie opened her mouth, then paused.

"That's what I thought."

"But they should be able to work things out. I mean I know they fight all the time, but they made some real progress today. You should've seen them, Husk. They held hands all the way through group therapy. They're still madly in love, I know it. If Tina could just forgive Al for whatever he did—"

"What are you talking about? Alastor didn't do anything to—"

As if by magic, Husk's fist flew into his mouth.

"What was that?" Charlie asked.

The cat shook his head and darted into the back room. He'd said too much already.

Alastor stood outside Tina's office, his fist raised to knock. But he hesitated.

Since group therapy, the two of them hadn't spoken more than three words to each other. He wasn't sure what to say. After all, she'd confessed to everyone that Alastor had helped her through her recovery, however unintentionally. Then she had held his hand for almost an hour. And while Alastor was over the moon about that, he couldn't figure out whether that little gesture had been out of affection or pity.

Then there was their deal. Now that he'd promised not to act romantic with her in any way, shape or form, he didn't know how to act around her. The deal was impossible to keep when everything she did made him want to get down on one knee and propose to her all over again. One more slipup, and he might lose her forever. Deal or no deal, that was not an option.

For the time being, Alastor decided the best thing to do was maintain a professional air. Just like during their engagement.

So, taking a deep breath, he gave his signature knock.

"Come in, Al," Tina replied half-heartedly.

Alastor put on his biggest smile and opened the door. Tina stood behind her desk, which was littered in papers. She alternated between two sheets in her hands.

"Was wonderin' when you were gonna knock," she said without looking up. "I heard your pensive sighs ten minutes ago."

A light red tainted Alastor's cheeks.

"Did ya want something? I'm kinda busy."

"That's why I'm here." He shut the door behind him. "Charlie said you needed help with the party planning?"

"I got it covered." She waved her hand. "I used to plan events like this all the time back at The Reckoning. No biggie."

"Ah." He glanced down at his feet. "I see."

Tina lowered the papers, her expression softening when she saw his deflated expression. "Actually, there is something you can help me with."

Alastor perked up and approached her desk. Yes, work. Perfect distraction.

"I need a second opinion on the guest list," she said, rummaging through her pile of papers.

He tilted his head. "I thought this was to be a public event."

"Yeah, but I wanted to invite some VIPs. See if we can convince 'em to invest in the hotel. No offense, Al, but we can't rely on your Voodoo forever."

"True."

It was a smart idea. Considering if Tina refused to kiss Alastor before the end of the trial period, he wouldn't be around to offer his support. Financially or magically. Neither of them dared to mentioned this fact.

"Here it is." Tina picked out a sheet and handed it to Alastor. "I made up a list of all the big shots in Hell I could think of. You know these fellas better than I do. Think any of 'em might be even remotely interested?"

"Ha! Not likely, but let's see." He took the paper and skimmed it. "Hmm. I see you already crossed out the Three Vs."

"They ain't so hot about me and I ain't so hot about them."

"Naturally." He chuckled. "After the marks you left on them last time you were all in the same room."

She shrugged. "Can't take all the credit. Besides, most of my employees used to work for at least one of them bastards and I can't risk traumatizin' 'em."

"The bastards or your employees?"

Tina smirked. "Yes."

Alastor rubbed his chin as he continued to scan the list. "I'd suggest extending Prince Stolas an invitation. Rumor has it he and his wife are going through a rough patch and he'll look for any excuse to get away from her."

"Don't entirely blame him," she said, getting another sheet to jot notes on.

That stung, but Alastor went on. "Rosie owes me a few favors. I'm sure she'll come if I ask her, and she might find my new hobby amusing."

"She ain't the worst of your friends, I'll admit. Just don't expect us to be servin' actual finger sandwiches."

"Well, if you're offering vegan and vegetarian options, you can accommodate for other unique palettes as well."

She rolled her eyes. "What about Lucifer and Lilith?"

"The King and Queen of Hell supporting a place aiming to send their subjects to Heaven? Ha!" Alastor threw his head back. "Why do you think our dear Princess turned to me instead of her own parents?"

Tina stopped writing. "I…hadn't considered that."

"Although," he said with a thoughtful grin, "Luci does owe me for butting into my personal life and almost ruining my wedding."

She snorted. "Maybe he'd have done us a favor had he succeeded."

There was an awkward pause. Alastor tried to focus on the list.

"Who is this Sir Pentious?"

"Oh, you know him." Tina gestured to her head. "The snake guy with the top hat? Builds a lotta murder machines? Runs around with living eggs and has a tendency to roll his s's?"

"Oh, that Sir Pentious!" He held up a finger. "Yes, he is not welcome here since he blew a hole in the hotel. Not to mention he seems to have a beef with me for some reason."

"Can't imagine why. Considerin' ya threatened to skin him into boots when ya met him."

"What?"

"Don't ya remember? It was at one of them fancy Overlord parties ya used to drag me to. He tried to pick me up and ya shot him down."

"Of course!" Alastor snapped his fingers. "Now I'm definitely not sorry for crushing him into oblivion!"

Tina shook her head with a snort. "Even before we were really together, you were always the jealous type."

"Don't act like you're not guilty of the same sin, missy!" He booped her nose. "When I invited my lady friends over from Cannibal Colony for brunch, you remained glued to my side the entire meal, despite your distaste in the menu!"

Her cheeks flushed as she waved him away. "I-I just didn't trust ya alone with all those girls. They always look like they wanna take a bite outta ya."

"Ha-ha! You think I, the Radio Demon, would give anyone the chance?" he asked, dramatically putting a hand to his chest. "I'm the one who does the biting!"

"Not what I meant."

He blinked as he tried to process her implication. When he did, his entire face became beet red.

"Darling, you know I've never so much looked at another woman before you."

"I know." Tina sighed. "Ya have more self-control. Least when it comes to lust."

Once again, they were silent, afraid to make eye contact.

Tina decided to change the subject and picked up another sheet. "So, uh, in terms of entertainment, I was thinkin' we call Mimzy in. Given the hotel's purpose, we need a performer with class. Not like those pop whores who'd send the wrong message like Verosika Mayday."

"Good idea!" Alastor said a little too enthusiastically. "Mimzy's club hasn't been doing well as of late, so she could use the work!"

Tina bit her lip. "Think she still resents me for quittin' on her?"

"Of course not, dear!" He waved his hand. "Mimzy knows business is business!"

"She'd just be the headliner. I was thinkin' we have the staff do a few acts as well. Charlie and I are holdin' a mini-talent show tomorrow."

Alastor raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you perform, darling? Any one of your monologues or songs would do."

She looked down at her feet. "I, uh, don't perform much these days."

"Oh-ho-ho! That's a good one, dear!"

He waited for her to laugh with him. When she didn't, his smile dropped several inches.

"You're serious," he said.

Tina nodded. "Haven't performed on a public stage in almost five years now."

Alastor jerked his thumb towards the door. "But the other day, in the ballroom—"

"Oh, I'll sing a tune or two for the staff to get their morale up, but at the club, I left the entertaining to them."

"But how can you give up the stage?" He leaned his palms onto the desk. "You always said it was your salvation, your escape from reality. What changed?"

"I guess I just…got busy with other things." She shook her head. "But it's fine. I've got some talented staff. I don't need to be in the spotlight now that I'm runnin' the business side of things."

Alastor couldn't believe what he was hearing. The Tina he knew loved to perform. She practically lived on the stage. Even when offstage, she could not shake her comic persona, always cracking jokes and making people laugh.

Now that he thought about it, ever since she'd arrived at the hotel, her sense of humor had been a little flat. She'd still make a clever retort, but there was no passion, no playfulness, only anger.

Tina had changed, yes, but she couldn't have changed that much.

"I, uh," the Songbat said, clearing her throat, "think I'll be good here, for now."

Alastor sighed and straightened up. "I'll call on Mimzy in the morning."

"Sounds good."

He turned, placed his hand on the doorknob, and stopped. This wasn't how he wanted to end the conversation.

"Tina." He faced her again, his ears drooping. "What I said earlier, about overcoming addiction being pathetic and pointless…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I…I didn't mean—"

"Al," Tina said with a small smile. "It's okay."

He blinked. "It is?"

"Yeah. Honestly, what ya said wasn't all that surprising to me."

"It wasn't?"

"No." She sat down in her chair and sifted through the papers. "After all, ya always were in the habit of mockin' others to make yourself feel better. I've learned not to take it personally."

It was like she'd stabbed him in the chest with the harshest of truths.

"You," he said, wringing his hands together, "think I mock you?"

"I know ya don't mean anything by it," she said nonchalantly.

That wasn't a no. "Tina, if I ever made you feel inferior—"

"Ya didn't," she murmured as she preoccupied herself with another sheet. "If anything, ya motivated me to get stronger."

Alastor noted how she was still refusing to meet his eyes. "G-Good, because…I never considered you weak."

Tina put down the paper. "I know."

He stood there for a while, staring at her. Then, at last, she looked up.

"Was there…something else ya wanted to say to me?"

I love you, you're wonderful, I want us to renew our vows right now!

Instead, Alastor said, "Don't stay up too late."

"Sorry." Tina pointed to her wings. "Kinda comes with being a bat, ya know?"

He chuckled as he opened the door. "Good night, my lo—Tina."

"Good night, ho—err, Al."

Luckily, Alastor was already out the door and neither of them could see each other's blushing faces.

It was a good thing the Princess had refused to make a proper deal with the Radio Demon, because he really needed a drink.

As soon as he was alone in his penthouse, he summoned a bottle of liquor from his cabinet back home. He could imagine Tina nagging him about self-control.

"Oh, well," he said, pouring himself a glass. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

His shadow appeared on the wall before him, scowling with its arms crossed.

"What?" Alastor set the bottle on the kitchen counter. "I deserve one after the day I had. As if the group therapy wasn't embarrassing enough, I had to hold a very professional, very bland conversation with my wife, that nearly turned into a very awkward one."

He threw his head back and downed his drink.

"And what's all this about Tina giving up the stage?" Alastor sat at the counter and refilled the glass. "I could've made her into a housewife when I married her. But did I? No. Because I knew her career made her happy. That's all I ever tried to do as her husband. Make her happy."

The shadow opened its mouth as Alastor gulped down the second drink. As he prepared to pour a third one, the shadow took the shape of Charlie and made an X with its arms.

"Hmm, I suppose you're right." Alastor put the bottle down. "Can't risk losing the Princess's favor if I make another mess of her hotel."

The shadow took on Tina's form and wagged a finger.

"Yes, and the scolding Tina would give me." He sighed and rested his cheek on his fist. "You know, Rosie told me Tina might be happier if she had some time to herself. But how can she be happy if she's not doing the one thing she loves?"

Alastor thought back on anything that might've made her stop performing.

By their third year of marriage, Alastor had gotten used to coming home to find his wife inebriated. Tonight, she was on the lounge couch with a bottle in hand.

He waved two fingers in front of her. "How many fingers do you see?"

Tina pushed his hand away. "I'm not drunk yet. I only had a few sips."

"Good." He took the bottle from her and sat beside her. "Because I've been wanting to talk to you all day and I'd rather do it while you're sober."

She cocked an eyebrow. "What'd ya wanna talk about?"

"Oh, nothing in particular." He snapped the bottle back into the liquor cabinet. "I just came back from a long and tedious meeting and thought a nice evening chat with my lovely wife would cheer me up!"

"That's where you were tonight?" Tina asked bitterly. "Some meeting?"

"Yes, a territorial dispute on the West Side. It almost ended in bloodshed, but as I'm a civil creature, I gave the fool a chance to come to his…"

He trailed off when he noticed Tina was facing away from him with her arms crossed.

"Dear, is something on your mind?"

She dug her claws into her arms. "I bombed tonight."

Explosives weren't a hobby of Tina's, so it took a second for Alastor to realize what she was talking about. Then his hand flew to his mouth in a gasp.

"Your show!" He smacked his forehead. "Oh, darling! Forgive me, but the meeting ran later than expect—"

"It's fine." The shortness of her tone said otherwise. "You're not obligated to go to every performance. I mean it's every other night, and ya haven't missed a one since we met."

Tina stood and paced around the lounge. "So what if I was expectin' to see ya? So what if I was caught off-guard when ya weren't in your usual booth? So what if it threw me off and I froze up and everyone started throwin' bottles and condoms at me?"

Alastor sprang to his feet, his eyes glowing in anger. "They threw what at you?!"

"Calm down, none of 'em hit me." She tried not to smile at his concern. "But yeah, tonight was a disaster." She held out her hand. "Can I have the liquor back?"

He sat down and summoned one full glass. She muttered a thanks and slumped back onto the couch to sip the drink.

"I apologize for missing your performance, dear," Alastor said. "I…hadn't realized my being there meant so much to you."

"It doesn't. I mean…I never thought it did. I don't know why it bothered me so much." Tina sighed and took a big gulp. "Maybe I just got so used to seeing ya there in the audience."

"Well, I won't miss another show, I swear." He held up a hand.

"Ya don't have to do that." She set the empty glass down on the coffee table. "Just…let me know if something's keepin' ya in the future. That way I can prepare myself for your absence."

"Deal."

By now, dealmaking had become a regular thing between them. Tina didn't even hesitate to take this hand.

"Wasn't really that big a crowd, anyway." She shrugged. "I've been losin' popularity these days. With the rock and pop generations dyin' now, jazz clubs just aren't in anymore. And we're in this whole new millennium now that I've lost touch with modern audiences."

"Oh, you shouldn't let that stop you, dearest," Alastor said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "New or old-fashioned, your wit is as sharp and fiery as the day I met you. And your voice is divine enough to make the angels envious."

"You're my husband. Ya have to say corny stuff like that."

Nonetheless, she smiled.

"I mean it, my pet." He ruffled her hair. "You're a star that has yet to burn out. One little flop isn't the end of the world. It happens to the best of us. Did I ever tell you about my first time on the air?"

Tina looked up at him, intrigued. "No, what happened?"

"Oh, it was deplorable!" He dramatically put a hand to his head. "Right before I went on, one of my coworkers said they hoped the audience wouldn't have trouble understanding my nigger accent!"

She gasped. "He did not!"

"Oh, he did! I eventually taught him a lesson, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, I was young and new showbiz, and the backhanded comment made me so self-conscious about my accent that I stumbled over every other word! I ended up mispronouncing Louis Armstrong!"

"How?"

He smacked his forehead. "I said Lois Armstrong!"

Tina couldn't help but release a snort of laughter. "Dear Lord!"

"I know! I mispronounced the name of the greatest jazz musician who ever lived! How shameful is that?"

"How were ya not fired?"

"Fortunately, my boss was forgiving as it was my first day, so long as I found a way to get over my nerves. Didn't take me long. All I had to do was use my white voice and no one ever complained about my performance again!"

Tina's grin disappeared. "That's…kinda depressing."

"No, that didn't come until a few years later." A cymbal riff came from nowhere.

"I'm serious." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "That ya had to conform to white society to get anywhere in the world."

"Yes." Alastor sighed. "You tell me things were still difficult when you were alive, but at least you didn't have to hide your identity from everyone. One reason I got into the habit of smiling all the time was so I would seem polite and less threatening, despite my…background."

Tina couldn't imagine having to change her voice. Unless it was doing an impression of someone.

"So, is this the same voice?" she asked. "That ya used on the radio up top?"

He nodded. "I ended up using it so often, it never went away. And you have to admit, it fits the aesthetic of being the Radio Demon."

"But what was your accent before? I mean you're from New Orleans, so yours couldn't've been much different from mine."

"Well, uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I haven't used that voice in a long time—"

"Come on, Al." She leaned toward him, curling her lip. "Pweeeaaase?"

He growled. "How many times have I told you to stop talking like a spoiled five-year-old when you want something? It's more annoying than cute."

"I have no idea what ya mean," she said, still using the cutesy voice.

Alastor folded his arms and huffed. "That's not going to work."

"Pwetty, pwetty pwease?" Tina asked, crawling onto his lap. "With sugar on top?"

"Ha! There's your mistake." He booped her nose. "I don't even like sugar."

She batted her eyes. "How 'bout a whole lotta bloody demon chunks on top?"

"Please stop," he said through his teeth, "before I do something you'll regret."

"I'll use my normal voice again if ya show me your black voice."

"You want my black voice? Fine."

Alastor gripped her arms, lifted her off his lap and planted her at his side.

"Ain't no lady should be grovelin' for her man like this, chère. Any more of this nonsense and your supper'll be served up cold."

Tina hadn't been prepared for this voice. Like her Alabaman accent, his Louisiana one had a Southern lilt, though an airier tone. Combined with the words, he almost sounded like her mother. This caused her to burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!" Alastor exclaimed, reverting back to his Transatlantic accent.

"Sorry, it's just…" She covered her mouth. "So different and…"

She nearly said "natural."

"Yes, well, now you know." He turned away to hide his blush. "Don't go telling anyone."

"Why? It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Alastor summoned his microphone. "I've built my reputation upon my radio presence. Do you think demons down here would be as intimidated if I spoke like a hick?"

"Hey!"

"Oh, it works for you, precious. As a comedienne, your accent adds to your character. But I'm the Radio Demon. I have to sound like your typical radio announcer, or the gimmick falls flat."

"Hmm. You might be right." Tina elbowed him. "Can't have Overlords like you soundin' adorable."

He narrowed his eyes. "This adorable Overlord can still bake you into a pie."

She twirled a strand of her hair in an absentminded fashion. "A cutie pie?"

He leaned toward her. "A bat pie."

"Aw, ya wouldn't do that, Al." She booped his nose. "Ya like me too much."

"I can change my mind."

"And I can change my attitude." She placed a hand on her hip with a smirk. "Which do you prefer?"

After a minute-long staring match, Alastor closed his eyes and chuckled. "See, dear? You haven't lost your touch at all! You've just had one bad night! I'm sure you'll look back on this one day and laugh!"

Tina giggled. "It was kinda funny."

That gave him an idea. "What happened exactly?"

"Okay." She stood and went behind the coffee table. "So I get up to the mic, say my 'Howdy-do, welcome to Hell' spiel."

As she said this, she mimed holding a microphone and waved to her audience of one. "The front row starts drooling, the back row starts hollering, so I say, 'What would my husband say if he saw your thirsty drool faces?'"

She turned to her right. "But I look over at your booth, and, no husband." Her hand flew to her cheek as she gasped. "So I'm like, 'Why isn't he here? He never misses a show! Now who am I supposed to make fun of?' So I'm standin' there with my mouth open in front of a bunch of drunken demons, jeerin' me to go on. Well now I've gone and forgotten my whole routine like I forget our anniversary."

Alastor leaned back on the couch and watched his wife recount her calamitous evening with the energy and timing of a true comedienne. Where appropriate, he chuckled, laughed and slapped his knee.

He knew she couldn't resist making fun of her own humiliation.

"With no jokes to tell," Tina continued, "I move onto the song bit, but my voice comes out all squeaky like…" She glanced down at herself. "Well, that one's self-explanatory. So my adoring audience is gettin' restless, demandin' for their money back, throwin' the bottles and condoms—some of 'em unopened—Mimzy's givin' me the stink eye, so I do the only thing I can think to cool their heads."

Crimson flooded her face. "I, uh, ain't proud of this."

Alastor leaned onto his knees. "Go on."

Tina grabbed the edge of her dress. "I lift my skirts, flash my panties and hightail it off the stage!"

"You what?!"

A whistle emitted from Alastor's mic. He snapped it out of the room.

"Well," Tina said with a shrug, "they changed their minds 'bout murderin' me."

"Oh my." Alastor covered his face as he burst out laughing. "Now I wish I had been there!"

She stiffened. "What?"

"To see the humiliated blush on your face, of course!" He lowered his hand. "Oh, there it is! My night is complete."

Scowling, Tina grabbed the nearest decorative pillow. "You asshole!"

Before Alastor could react, the pillow hit him square in the face. It slid down, revealing a glowing glare.

All it took was a snap of his fingers. The remaining ten pillows levitated from the furniture.

Tina backed away. "Now that's just cheating."

Airplane noises accompanied the Radio Demon as he stood. "Mayday, mayday! Target sighted!"

Radio dials replaced his eyes. "Prepare for total annihilation."

The pillows all fired at once. Tina leaped into the air at the last second and flew out of the lounge and into the hallway.

"Oh Tiiina!" Alastor called, following her with a new brigade of floating pillows. "You can run, little bat, but you can't hide!"

Just then, Tina tackled him from above. They both crumbled to the ground, with her on top of his back. Static crackled as Alastor's head snapped around. He growled, his horns growing.

It was in that moment, Tina knew, she'd fucked up.

She tried to fly away, but Alastor was instantly on his feet. He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her down. No matter how hard Tina flapped her wings, his long arms were too strong as they ensnared around her middle, trapping her into an embrace from behind.

"Al, let go!"

"Afraid not, dear!" He squeezed her tighter, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head. "This is your punishment for manhandling me!"

When he didn't respond to kicks, Tina tried a different tactic.

"Gee, Al," she said in the most flirtatious tone she could muster. "If ya wanted a hug, all ya had to do was ask."

Often, when she teased him like this, he would get all flustered and back off. But surprisingly, Alastor held onto her, not saying a word.

Her body was so warm, her fur so soft. A whiff of her lavender-peachy hair, and he was frozen to the spot.

Tina tensed when a low, content growl came from his throat. Was he purring?

"Uh, Al?" She pushed against his arms. "Ya know I was joking, right?"

"I'll let you go," he whispered, "if you say one little thing for me first."

"Fine." She grunted. "But if it's something embarrassing, you're sleepin' alone tonight."

"Say, 'I will never doubt myself ever again.'"

She raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

"Just say it."

Tina sighed. "I will never doubt myself ever again."

"Good girl." Before releasing her, he planted a kiss atop her head. "Because reminding you that you are wonderful is simply exhausting."

"Eureka!" Alastor banged his fists on the kitchen counter, rattling the glass and liquor bottle and startling his shadow. "I know how to get the old Tina back!"

I found this chapter so hard to write, because I had to jump between the past when this couple was open and comfortable with each other, and the present when they are repressing their emotions. So if their present conversations seem flat, it's because they're trying to keep their agreement not to fight, Alastor's trying to keep his agreement not to flirt, but there's so much more they want to say.

Bottom line, this is what happens when couples DON'T fight.