Author's Notes:

I'm so excited that I finished this chapter in a timely manner that I'm posting it now; screw waiting until Saturday! WOOHOO!


Chapter 36

Dangerous Potential

Well, perhaps he had been a bit too optimistic. Inviting her up to his office was likely a little too much for her, but after she had been so willing to be alone with him in the therapy room, he had to at least try. Oh well.

He had hoped to continue the game in a more private setting. Being intimidating and messing with the guests was kind of fun, but he had a feeling that it was something that would be much more entertaining without an audience. He could take a loss for an insignificant, public hotel game, but he really wished she had decided to join him. Here, they could ask or demand anything they wished.

Too late now; his shadow kept an eye on her and watched as she retreated to her room. Such a pity; they could have learned so much, and there certainly weren't many people he'd play such a risky game with. Most would dare him to do something disgusting, or ask him to share his voodoo secrets. But the question she chose swirled around in his head. Was it something he could have answered vaguely? Could he have kept the game going? Or would she have not accepted his answer, taking the loss and walking away?

Unfortunately, the brief hostility from Harve ruined his entertainment early on, and he needed to retreat before anyone thought to use the game to seek answers. Of course, he would need to seek some answers of his own, and when the shadow returned after Eliza disappeared, he sent him to question Curio's shadow. He needed to know just how much Harve knew about the situation, and if Curio was somehow breaking the rules.

Still, that pink, balloon-headed buffoon will need to be punished for such open disrespect to a lady. Flicking his cigarette at her; the nerve! Even if the crow was his intended target, he certainly didn't apologize to Eliza for sullying her clothes. Yes, there will be a lesson in the future.

One more week until his next big meeting with Charlie and Vaggie to discuss the hotel. It was probably wise to start organizing now, so that he wouldn't miss any chances at entertainment before becoming an absentee manager for a week. Let's see, there's the arts and crafts sessions on Wednesdays, the blasphemous amount of sweets and baking supplies for Pride Week, Eliza's payroll, and the petition to increase the food budget that was signed by every guest in the hotel, which was started by Angel Dust.

Despite always telling his co-managers that the food budget was the easiest to cut from because the guests were living there for free, part of it was to keep them all nice and miserable. Charlie was so set on making their rehabilitation more like a vacation than an actual struggle, and Satan knows how that would ruin all the fun. Instead of presenting solutions, the guests sought to strong-arm him into allocating more money to the fund, thus taking from something else.

The princess would be easy to win over to veto the petition though. After all, her precious arts and crafts sessions were on the line. Alastor can't approve both! It was almost too easy, sometimes. The reactions would be priceless once the food budget remained the same.

Oh, how he loved his job.


One Week Later:

"It's just a one-time expense!" Charlie cried, slamming her hands down on the desk next to the sweets list that got vehemently denied.

"I'm sorry my dear, but it simply isn't feasible."

"I thought you said you had money on standby," Vaggie droned, narrowing her eye in suspicion.

"That is for emergencies only," Alastor stated, smugly. "Its entire existence is to limp us along should we find ourselves in more dire straits. Wasting the money on such frivolous nonsense now will only hurt us later. You must learn to see the long-game, sweetheart!"

"And this?" Vaggie asked, waving around the petition from the hotel guests. "Why's this being denied?"

"We are now taking on two new financial strains," he reminded her. "Between the new Wednesday meetings and Eliza's payroll, I'm afraid increasing the budget in any way is not going to be possible."

Oh, Vagatha's glare made it all worthwhile. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He chuckled shyly. "Maybe a little. But I'm also being serious; in our current situation, it simply can not be done." Then, in a cheeky tone, he suggested, "Perhaps you would instead like to postpone the arts and crafts? That would certainly free up some of the budget, I suppose."

Charlie looked like she was seriously considering it. As she sat in thoughtful silence, there was a knock at the office door. "I apologize if I'm too early!" Eliza greeted.

"Not at all!" Alastor called, happily, looking over at the clock. Technically she was actually fifteen minutes early, but they were hardly in a relevant enough discussion to delay her. "Come on in, my dear. Now is a wonderful time!"

Walking into the office, she sat in an open seat on Alastor's other side, putting him in between the therapist and Vaggie. Charlie, who was the one actually behind the desk, just leveled Alastor an annoyed look. The guy really needed to remember where he was. After all, they were in her office, not his. She should be the one inviting people in!

"Now on to further business!" he cheered, handing papers to both her and Charlie. Vaggie fumed quietly as she was once again forced to share with her girlfriend, as the man seemed to take great pleasure in purposefully leaving her out.

As Eliza expected, the amount was rather low. They wouldn't be considered legal wages in the states by a long shot. Still, considering she was allowed to live and eat for free at the hotel, any amount was a positive at this point, though no one missed how she scrunched her nose in the beginning.

"Is the amount not agreeable?" Alastor inquired.

"Sorry," she apologized, sheepishly. "I'm used to a much better economy, so I forget sometimes."

Looking rather curious, Alastor asked, "How much do people make up top nowadays?"

"Just to get someone to work at a fast food restaurant, some places start at fifteen dollars an hour."

The overlord jumped. "Gracious me! I'd say the economy recovered nicely from when I died!"

"Until the housing market crashed. Plus, the cost of living is ridiculous with mandatory insurance on everything, not to mention the price of health care."

"Ooo, sounds delightful!"

Charlie cleared her throat. "Anyways, seeing as Eliza has worked here for free for almost seven months, I see no reason not to approve the budgeted payroll. Anyone against it?" When no one spoke up, Charlie pulled out a large rubber stamp and pressed it onto the paper, leaving a big red 'Approved' label over the top. "Alright then, Eliza is now on payroll! Congrats!"

"Thanks for sticking around," Vaggie added with a smirk.

"And, as part of the new agreement…" Alastor summoned a thick wad of bills out of thin air, handing it to the therapist. "Your payment for the last couple weeks, to make up for having to wait for this meeting."

She stared dumbly at it for a brief moment before accepting. "Huh. I've never been paid in cash before! Certainly makes things easier, cutting out the middleman."

"The only people who trust the banks are the people that the banks are terrified to cross," Alastor informed her with a wicked grin. "Everyone else steers clear if they wish to hold on to their money."

"So you use the banks then?" she asked, bluntly.

"Hardly!" he barked. "I have a vault. I learned my lesson when the stock market crashed, ha!"

"Was that the only lesson it taught you?" Vaggie asked, flatly.

"Nope!" he responded, cheerfully. Then with a crafty smile, he put a finger to his lips. "But the other is a bit of a business secret, my dear."

Vaggie rolled her eye. "Whatever."

"Actually, maybe you can help with something else before you go!" Charlie interjected, pulling out a list that made Alastor groan. "This is a list of supplies I wanted to get for a Pride Week baking session, but Al says it can't be done! What do you think?"

"Yes," Alastor added, glancing at the therapist expectantly. "What do you think of this fanciful list, my dear?"

"Honest thoughts," Vaggie added, looking about ready to stomp on the red overlord's foot.

When Eliza glanced down the full list, she just blinked for a few seconds with wide eyes. "Uh… just how much are you thinking everyone will make? Can everyone even cook?"

Alastor looked downright smug as he glanced side-long at the forlorn princess. "Well, that's why I want to get extra! That way people can make a few mistakes."

"With this list, every guest could make several mistakes with large batches."

Alastor gave a single, sharp nod. "You see, my dear? It's simply not practical!"

"Perhaps a much more tempered list would be appropriate?" Eliza offered.

Vaggie glanced at the list over the therapist's shoulder. "OK, just how tempered?"

"Well, for one thing, as far as I know, only three guests can actually cook," she began, trying to avoid giving out too much information. "Alastor can cook as well of course, but he has an aversion to sweets, so he's not included in the list. I've never made sweets before, so it would be new for me, and I don't know if the three guests are any more familiar with it than I am."

After a thoughtful moment, Alastor said, "I may not be a fan of sweets, but I suppose I could be persuaded to bake beignets for a select few. I'm not sure the guests are deserving of my culinary skills, so I would only make them for the staff."

"But Al-" Charlie began.

"That might be for the best," Eliza interrupted.

The princess looked somewhat dejected. "Why?"

"If you budget just enough for everyone to cook for someone they want to instead of expecting them to cook enough for the entire hotel, it might be possible."

"Alright," Vaggie piped up, walking back over to her seat, "But what if someone wants to make enough for the entire hotel?"

"Hmm…" Eliza mused, quietly. "Perhaps they could be persuaded to purchase any special ingredients on their own, as long as we provide the base items like chocolate and flour?"

"Ha!" Charlie and Vaggie glared at Alastor, but the man continued undeterred. "Come now, my dear, do you really believe these lowly commoners are so easily motivated to spend their own money on such nonsense?"

"Well, I kind of hope so," Eliza answered, sounding a bit unsure, "because I actually have another idea in mind that I need some permission from Charlie for."

Looking surprised but also eager, Charlie beamed at her. "What's that?"

"Well, first thing's first: Do you actually have any idea what you want to do with the land around the hotel?"

Looking a bit awkward, she admitted, "I… haven't really thought about it. I've been so busy trying to get things running inside the hotel that outside hasn't even come up yet."

"Then perhaps you wouldn't mind giving me permission to start a garden?"

Vaggie's face fell for a moment before a small smile graced her face. "Wow, that might actually be-"

"Rather expensive!" Alastor interjected, blocking Vaggie completely. The moth glared daggers into the back of his red, fluffy head. "Just how much would be required to start this?"

"Nothing," Eliza answered, simply. "I intend to start it myself, with the paychecks- I mean cash- I'll be getting from the hotel. I'm hoping that by starting a food garden, the guests will be encouraged to join me."

"And what makes you so certain they'd be willing to spend their ill-earned gains in such a manner?" Alastor questioned, teasingly.

Summoning a clipboard (she was getting better at this summoning thing!), she handed it over and watched as his eyes narrowed. He even pulled up his monocle to take a closer look. Busy processing this new information, he completely ignored Vaggie as she read over his shoulder. Raising her eyebrow, she asked, "Wait, is this a survey? When did you take this?"

"When Charlie told me to come to this meeting!" she answered in a light tone. "I thought that, perhaps, I could glean something from the guests, just in case there was something I could bring up. Apparently the biggest complaint across the board is the hotel's abysmal food. I figured it would make for an excellent incentive, and also would make a fine hobby to help keep the addicts and violent clients out of trouble."

Vaggie looked over at Charlie. For the first time in a while, the moth looked mildly excited. "That actually sounds pretty awesome! I vote we let her try."

"Absolutely!" Charlie agreed, readily.

Alastor tore his gaze away from the paper to look quickly between the two women. Wait a second! Were they all really going over his head to approve this?!

"We should probably mark the ideal starting area," Charlie suggested, reaching into a drawer and pulling out some old, ragged blueprints of the hotel. "Sorry they're all messed up; this place is pretty old. Anyways, I'm not sure where the best place is to start…"

Alastor's eye twitched as, for the first time, he was the one being ignored in a business meeting. This isn't how the game works! By taking over the financial aspects of the hotel, he put himself in a position to always be involved in the decisions that shaped this passion project. He could dictate what moved forward and what didn't, thus controlling the business behind the scenes. Therefore he could come into every meeting, keep the princess under his thumb and push around her volatile little moth, feeding off the feisty woman's rage, all under the cloak of savvy business. How did Eliza swoop in and take all that power from him in a single meeting?! She's not even part of the management!

He'd be damned if he ever admitted to being impressed.

Still, he cleared his throat and, with narrowed eyes, stated firmly, "I believe there were other financial matters that still needed to be discussed? Perhaps you lovely ladies could go over these whimsical ideas outside of a business meeting?"

Vaggie had a mischievous look on her face; a familiar one. Like a shark that smelled blood in the water. "Oh, wow! Are you jealous?"

He scoffed. "Hardly! This is simply not the time to discuss such plans!"

That arrogant smirk didn't leave her features, but Eliza looked somewhat embarrassed. "Oh, of course! My apologies."

"No harm, no foul," he reassured her calmly, though his gaze was colder than usual. "It's easy to be swept away in our dear princess' excitement! I'm sure that as soon as the meeting ends, she'll be more than happy to return to this discussion."

"Actually, since you're leaving…" Vaggie handed the therapist a piece of paper, which carried the gray stamp that read 'Denied' on the top right corner, "could you post this somewhere everyone can see it? I think it might be somewhat helpful." She shot Alastor a cocky grin, an expression rarely seen on the moth. His smile shrank as he realized what she handed the pale demoness.

The failed petition to raise the food budget. And where did he find it once the meeting was over, surrounded by a group of glaring guests? Right next to the Saturday sign-up sheet, with something written just underneath "Denied" in the most legible penmanship anyone had ever seen.

"By Alastor."

He wondered if he should clean the knife in his back before returning it to that deceptively sweet therapist. Maybe he'll take back his skeleton key now.


The first day of Pride Week followed that meeting, and contrary to Alastor's belief, the guests interested in baking with the managers actually did go out and buy the few things the hotel didn't supply. And, as he had suggested might happen, he was also present for the occasion, joined by Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, Eliza, Angel, Erpa and Paressu.

The kitchen was just barely able to fit them all, especially with Charlie and Vaggie pairing up to make extra room to make up for the guests giving the Radio Demon ample space. Eliza chose to work in the corner, and was closest to his spot on the counter. Niffty wanted to work on Alastor's other side, but had to settle for a bit more distance when Angel slid casually into her chosen spot with a smirk. He may not be able to prank Eliza, but that didn't mean he wasn't ready to mess with the uptight wendigo.

Vaggie made both the therapist and the spider agree to a pranking cease-fire for the occasion. Angel groaned but otherwise agreed, and Eliza was happy to shake on it. Once everyone arrived and picked their stations, they all got to work. As promised, Alastor got everything together to bake beignets, while Angel looked ready to make some kind of cookie with lemons, eggs and powdered sugar. He called them "Canestrelli". Niffty was ready to make chocolate hearts, Charlie was going to make candied apple slices, Vaggie mentioned the name Leche Poleada and had a bunch of bananas on standby, Erpa looked like she was ready to bake a small cake of some kind, and Paressu had everything to bake brownies. Vaggie took it upon herself to check his inventory, seeing as marijuana is his favorite drug of choice, and these treats are meant to be clean.

Eliza… Had the strangest assortment of ingredients, and to an extent it seemed as though she was going through great lengths to hide them. All she told the group was that she was going to try and make chocolate cherries, then made no attempt whatsoever to explain the collection of seemingly unrelated supplies. Alastor cocked an eyebrow but didn't probe; he would discover the secret when she was done.

"Get ready to weep," Erpa boasted, tentacles at the ready. "I can out-bake everyone here!"

"Bring it on, hentai bitch!" Angel jabbed, getting out his mixing bowls.

"Let us hope your baking is better than your singing," Alastor added, grinning as the dark sinner turned to cuss him out but withered under Vaggie's glare.

"Says the one that's too scared to share," she muttered instead.

Alastor chuckled. "These are simply too good for the likes of you!"

"Hey Smiles, let's taste and compare!" Angel challenged. "My ma's cookin' versus yours! No one beats an Italian ma!"

The overlord shot the spider a dark but intrigued glare as he growled, "Prepare to be crushed!"

"You pendejos don't have a prayer," Vaggie scoffed. "Mamá would wipe the floor with you!"

"Everyone talking about their moms," Paressu sighed. "I can't be the only one here with a dad that cooked."

"What kinda cookin' did yer pa do?" Angel asked, whisking everything together as he talked. Alastor had to acknowledge that the irritating spider actually had some skill in the kitchen. Interesting.

"He used whatever was in season," the cat explained as he started to process some zucchini. "He always had access to fresh and preserved food."

Alastor became distracted from the conversation behind him when he noticed that Eliza had stopped moving. He wasn't sure when that started, but the young woman seemed to be lost in thought again. The rose was closed and protected, and her eyes were inky black orbs that reflected eerily in the stillness. Worse yet, he felt a chill, but instead of frost spreading out, it felt like it was becoming more difficult to breathe. In fact, was she breathing right now? Her chest wasn't moving at all.

Next to him, Angel shivered. Quietly, he mused to himself, "Hey, everyone's bakin' an' shit. Why's it gettin' cold in here?" When he looked around the red-clad deer and got a peek at the therapist, his face fell. Leaning in toward Alastor, he whispered, "What's up wit' the shrink?"

When Alastor looked around at the others in the room, the only possibility hit him; family! Everyone, even Niffty and Charlie, were now somehow involved, talking about how their parents taught them something in the kitchen. And the only one not adding to the conversation was the woman who was slowly going to freeze them all to second death if something didn't change.

Another conversational taboo he really wanted to discuss with her some day.

"Perhaps a change in topic is in order," Alastor muttered. Angel cocked an eyebrow at him when the sound of a turning dial was produced, but definitely noticed that Eliza's head lifted slightly at the sound.

Despite feeling somewhat confused, Angel took the hint and ran with it. "You know Smiles, after you shut down the food budget thing, I'm fuckin' amazed ya let Bubbles buy this shit. Holiday spirit ain't exactly your niche."

"The original list was certainly refused," Alastor informed him, cheekily. "However, I was persuaded to approve a much more agreeable- and slightly less revolting- requisition."

"The fuck does that mean?" Erpa growled.

Slowly returning to the moment at hand, Eliza stated blankly, "Alastor doesn't like sweets."

"Guy's got no fucking taste," the tentacled woman spat, turning back to her cake and muttering to herself.

"But you'll give everything a try, right?" Charlie probed, hopefully.

When the overlord recoiled, her face fell. "You must be joking. I am here to kindly bake delicious treats for the staff and beat this disrespectful fellow-" he pointed at Angel Dust, who stuck his tongue out playfully, "-into the dirt. I'm not here to try everyone's meager attempts at culinary art."

If he were anyone else, Charlie was certain that Erpa would have thrown the entire pot at his head if her expression was any indication. Vaggie, however, just crossed her arms with a huff. "As if I'd bake anything for you anyways, asshat."

"Well, my dear Angel," Alastor purred, turning to the obnoxious arachnid with a smirk, "I've decided whose portion you're getting."

"Fine by me."

"Aw, he's just joking," Charlie giggled, nervously. "Right Al?"

Instead of answering, the demon in question merely turned back to his own station, humming pleasantly. Any further pleas from the princess went thoroughly ignored, and he felt beyond pleased as the air warmed and became breathable again. Eliza started working on her chocolate cherries again, muttering to herself about how all the chocolate seemed to harden while she was lost in thought. It simply boggled his mind how she never felt the temperature changes she caused. Perhaps it's because he's from the warm, humid state of Louisiana, but he couldn't imagine not noticing the chill.

Instead, as he put the beignets into the oven, he turned to her and asked, "Do you need any help, my dear? You seem to be having some difficulty."

For a brief moment, she glanced over her collection of small bowls, each full of different shades of chocolate. Alastor couldn't help but wonder why they all looked so different. "No, thank you, but I do have a question. Did I make the room cold? It's like I need to melt all the chocolate again!"

"You did indeed," he confirmed. "It would seem that the conversation had dampened your spirits. May I ask why?"

After a brief pause, she murmured just loud enough for him to hear, "I… never really learned anything from my parents. Nothing positive, anyways."

Tilting his head, he said quietly, "Oh, come now! Surely that's an exaggeration! One of your parents must have taught you something useful, even in spite of themselves."

Some thoughtful silence followed his words before she conceded, "I suppose I did learn patience."

"See? Very useful and often seen as a positive!"

Eliza would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little better. "I guess you're right."

Feeling a little emboldened from finally hearing something about her past, he decided to take the inch and reach for the mile. "And how did you learn such a valuable virtue, my dear?"

When she just continued mixing one of her chocolate bowls in silence, he felt a spike of frustration. It was so rare to catch her in a vulnerable moment that he took a somewhat ambitious step with high hopes of getting an answer. Blast it all, he felt like he was so very close!

Then…

"I spent four years of my life planning how to escape my family while simultaneously plotting how to ruin someone's life."

Wait, did he get an answer?!

There was a pregnant pause as he stared at her with darkened eyes. Her words made him nothing short of giddy. Whose life did she ruin? How did she do it? Did she burn down their home and painfully dismantle their life's work like he did? Or was she like other women, inserting a lethal poison into the person's life that slowly sucked the essence from their bones? Satan help him, she whetted his appetite. He needed to know.

"Do you remember the game from a week ago?"

Her head tilted slightly as she registered his bizarre question. "I'm sorry, but what game?"

"Truth or Dare, my dear. While playing with the rabble is interesting in its own way, I can't help but feel that perhaps we would have more fun in a private setting with some… revised rules."

She almost dropped her mixing bowl. Sweet mercy, if Alastor was a man interested in sex, she might have slapped him at that moment, if only for being so forward around so many people. As it was she took a long, calming breath before inquiring in an irritable tone, "Why?"

"Because I can not help but feel we might tell each other more interesting things without others present."

She just gave him a mild glare. "I doubt you would actually tell me much of anything. You'd give me some boisterous answer that sounds detailed but, in the end, is just you dancing around the question."

He gave her a smile that made her unsure as to whether she should be flattered or afraid. "And that right there is why you're so much fun!"

She looked back down at her chocolate mixes, absolutely refusing to blush. He was getting better at catching her off guard, but she would not make it easy for him. Why must he enjoy making her suffer these irritating emotions? Disinterested men should not be allowed to be so charming. It's insufferably unfair.

Eliza remained silent the rest of the baking session, so Alastor turned his attention to little Niffty, who was giggling at Paressu as he pulled his zucchini brownies out of the oven. Shortly after him, Erpa pulled out a cake covered in white icing, cutting into it to reveal a very delicious looking red velvet cake. Angel pulled out a small batch of golden, heart-shaped cookies, coating them in powdered sugar as they cooled. Vaggie had several small cups of banana custard (the Leche Poleada) and was putting on some final touches, and Charlie's treats filled the room with the smell of cinnamon apples.

Everyone had their treats finished and plated by the time Eliza was done. She pulled out a large plate and carefully placed each chocolate. They all looked a little different in minor ways, mainly color, and some were topped differently.

"Alright shrink," Angel called out with his hands on his hips. "Everyone's snacks look fuckin' delish, but yours confuse the shit outta me. This some kinda 'box o' chocolates' deal? Everyone picks a random one?"

"Please don't," she replied, her tone dripping with seriousness. "I have some difficulty with the idea of making a uniform meal when I know everyone has different tastes, so I tend to season things to people's tastes." Then, in a quieter tone, she mentioned, "That's why I don't cook my own food for large groups."

Alastor felt like he just received an answer to a question he never thought to ask. So that's why his food seemed to be colored differently than hers the couple times she's cooked for him. Now it made total sense; they were seasoned completely differently!

"Then by all means, my dear," Alastor invited, stretching his arm as though to wrap it around her waist but stopping just short of doing so. He really needed to find a way around her no-touch rule. It was starting to bother him that he couldn't invade her space when others could. "Tell us which chocolate we get!"

Charlie got one that looked rather plain, except that it has some mysterious bumps under the chocolate. Vaggie's seemed to have a very slight reddish tint to it, which made her a tad nervous. Angel's looked almost perfectly smooth and smothered in powdered sugar, while Niffty's looked a tad lumpy. Erpa's was half white, half dark, and Paressu's had a green, hard-candy leaf on top. When Vaggie gave her a suspicious look, she reassured the moth that it wasn't some drugged candy.

Finally there was Alastor's, which was the darkest of all. It made him a little nervous; dark chocolate was certainly an improvement on its milk and white counterparts, but it looks like she may have overdone it a bit. Probably to keep the sweetness to a minimum.

Finally, everyone had a plate out and gathered bits and pieces of what they wanted. Everyone got a slice of Erpa's cake, and Alastor just stole a piece off of Vaggie's for himself, not wanting a full slice. He did, however, grab a zucchini brownie and one of Angel's canestrelli, and of course Eliza's chocolate cherry. Eliza grabbed one of everything, though when Angel looked at her plate he noticed something odd.

"Wait a sec," he sassed, "you didn't make a chocolate cherry for yourself?"

"I tasted the cherries and chocolates as I cooked," she told him. "I knew I'd get a bit tired of them while cooking, so I didn't bother. Besides, there are plenty of interesting treats here, so I'm hardly missing out!"

Everyone was either critiquing or gushing over what they were eating, and despite what Alastor said, he actually did make enough beignets for everyone. At first Erpa decided to snub him, but when Vaggie actually admitted they were delicious, she gave up and grabbed one.

When Alastor took a bite out of a canestrelli, he hummed his approval. "Well, Angel, I must acknowledge your mother's cooking. While not something I'd eat often, the lemon is a wonderful touch, and the texture is exquisite!"

Angel gave him a real, wide smile. "Thanks, your beignets are fuckin' amazing! Fluffy and tasty and good God the cinnamon! Alright, it's official; your ma is a bitchin' cook."

Eliza fought off the unnerving feeling from before. She didn't want to cause a chill again, not when everyone was having so much fun, but it felt like frost spreading around the edge of her mind. Hopefully one day she'll figure out how to control that; it has to be useful somehow.

Charlie was the first to dig into her chocolate cherry, and she squealed. "The lumps are sweet cherry crunch candies! They're so yummy!"

That successfully distracted her from going dark, and she smiled. After that, almost everyone decided to take a bite out of her contribution, and she was happy to see so many surprised expressions. Vaggie's was a spicy chocolate with cinnamon, Niffty's had coconut, Angel's had the powdered sugar and tasted of chocolate and almonds, Erpa's was white and dark chocolate with the cherry pureed in the center rather than whole, and the green candy on Paressu's tasted like a mild granny smith apple, and his cherry was sweeter than the rest.

Alastor was the only one not eating his just yet. Everyone seemed rather pleased with their version of the sweet, and he felt a little excited. Perhaps she added some sort of twist to make the chocolate treat palatable after all. However, he wanted to save hers for last. He actually ate one of his own beignets, more out of a sense of victory than anything, feeling pleased as punch that he did service to his mother's skills. Watching Niffty gush over them made him chuckle, and once he finally made his way through everything else on the plate, it was finally time to see what surprise his little cherry had. The moment he bit into it, his eyes widened.

Coffee!

Specifically a dark roast coffee, carefully measured into mild dark chocolate to give it a balanced flavor that didn't assault his taste buds as he feared it might. Finally there was the cherry, which was mildly tart.

"I thought you said you've never made sweets, my dear," he stated, legitimately surprised.

"I've worked with cherries before," she informed him, sounding rather proud. "I had them all resting in a sugary syrup while I struggled with figuring out the different flavors of chocolate. I didn't have them all resting at the same time though, adding them one by one so that when I was done with the rest, I could pull them all out and coat them at the same time but they'd still have different flavors."

As she explained, Alastor just stared at her as a moment of clarity came. He always found it interesting and even flattering how considerate she could be, but something just became abundantly clear. It's not just that she wants to think of others; she's obsessed with it. Studying them from afar, testing their limits, coming up with carefully built programs to move towards their goal, or in this case, a thoughtfully constructed menu taking each of their tastes, backgrounds and characteristics into account. Yes, it could easily be seen as thoughtful consideration, but it had the potential to evolve into the finest manipulation. And in Hell, virtue quickly falls away to make room for the worst that a soul is capable of.

Her potential intrigued him, but also put him on edge. Patient, logical, problem-solving and alarmingly curious. With the capabilities of diplomacy as well as sheer brute force, she possessed everything she needed to see her desires met. All she needed was confidence, time and willpower, and while the first still wavered at strange times, the second and third she had in spades.

Charlie was gushing over the massive success of the baking session, and even Vaggie seemed rather happy with the outcome. Erpa was boasting up a storm about the perfection of her cake, and Eliza was encouraging her by asking how she got such a perfect texture. Despite the initial hatred she displayed when the conversation started, now she mingled freely with everyone as if there had never been a barrier preventing it, and it made his claws twitch. When her walls dropped just enough to let others approach, she always seemed to capture their attention, intentionally or otherwise.

She could even steal attention and power away from Alastor himself.

For the first time since he met her, he felt a bit unsure how to proceed. He needed to start work on that soul contract tonight. While she made for a wonderfully entertaining friend, it just occurred to him that she could either become one of his greatest assets, or a very dangerous problem. But if he couldn't win her over, couldn't get that signature on the dotted line that put her in his hands…

Would letting her live be wise?


Author's Notes:

That moment when a psychopath realizes that someone he likes has the potential to ruin him if he makes a wrong move. I mean she got the attention of his rival, has the power to override his senses, can encourage others to defy him and has the potential to manipulate everyone, possibly even him. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much you like someone, you have to calculate the risks.

Added later: As a reply to laughing at the $15 an hour, in my state McDonalds has repeatedly offered that as a starting wage to get people in the door. And yet, even with those numbers, they have a ridiculous turnover rate and people can STILL barely live off of that without help.