"Why, pray tell, are we here again?" Alastor fingered his binoculars as he gazed at the scene below them. On his face, his usual smile was pinched and wavered so slightly when he caught a glance of something that he would rather not look at. "From what I can see, our presence is not needed."
"Because," Charlie stressed as she, too, adjusted the binoculars that rested on her eyes. "We need to make sure that Angel Dust is okay."
Alastor sighed and set his binoculars to rest on his chest, the straps of the binocular allowing him to do so. He tapped Charlie lightly on the shoulder, careful to not allow his claws to accidentally dig into her clothing.
"I may not be the most knowledgeable concerning…. whatever this is, but I assume our neighborhood spider knows what he's doing. After all, doesn't he do this for a living?" He gestured towards the aforementioned spider demon who, if one were to look closely, was smiling contently in the presence of another. "I know that you're worried about your first patient, but isn't this an invasion of privacy?"
Charlie fumbled for words as she tried to justify what she was doing. On one hand, she truly cared for Angel. She loved him like a brother and she knew that he felt the same for her. It had taken a while, a few years in fact, but Angel went from outright sabotaging gangster to a harmless, annoying prankster. His tendencies for evil were curbed and he was, for the lack of a better word, almost angelic. Perhaps this year, he would be eligible for an appointment from a few angels from Heaven. Of course, it would be a slow process, but Charlie knew that he had it in him. As for this current situation, well…
Could you blame Charlie for being so careful? She didn't want Angel to be corrupted by the common sinner or worse, she didn't want him to get his heart broken after months of therapy about his self-esteem and purpose in life.
Therefore, it was up to Charlie and whoever was willing to help her, to make sure that Angels' progress was heavily monitored.
In this case, they were monitoring Angel's date with a newbie who had fallen into Hell only a few weeks ago.
"Come on, Al! I thought you were all for entertainment no matter how unethical it may seem."
"That, my dear, applies to murder, cannibalism, and general discontent. This," he grandly gestured to the scene below, "is trivial, and frankly, disturbing." His eyes widened in disbelief as he adjusted the clarity of the binoculars' lenses. "What are they doing with their mouths?"
Charlie gasped and did the same. "Oh my gosh!" She squealed with happiness. "They're kissing and they look so happy together and—"
Alastor clapped a hand over her mouth, which caused Charlie to look up at him in question.
"Careful, dearest. Do you really want all of Pentagram City to know that you're stalking one of your patients? I may not care about the hotel's main theme, but it would hinder our business."
"Ugggghhhh, fine, " she answered, though her voice was heavily muffled by the hand that was held over her mouth. She pushed Alastor's hand away from her own before magicking her binoculars into a pocket dimension for safe keeping. "Since it appears our presence isn't needed, what do you want to do?"
"The Princess of Hell in want of something to do, with me, the infamous Radio Demon? Why—" He placed a clawed hand over his heart, a mocking look on his face. "—I haven't felt like swooning ever since my mother last pinched my cheeks!"
"Har de har har." Without warning, Charlie took hold of Alastor's elbow and steadily guided him in the opposite direction of Angel's date. All the while, she ignored how Alastor's radio static gradually began to feel less like a radio tuning into different channels and more like a satanic ritual gone wrong.
There was a lot of screaming and moaning of the damned.
"Lighten up, Alastor!" Charlie tugged him even closer as their footsteps went from a casual stroll to outright running. "This is gonna be fun!"
Alastor's smile tightened in annoyance.
"When I said that entertainment applied only to murder, cannibalism, and general discontentment, I didn't mean that the general discontentment should apply to me."
"I don't know… I feel like this is plenty entertaining."
"My dear, I've lured hordes of demons into the pitch darkness of insanity just by hearing my broadcasts. Don't assume that you are the sole exception."
Much to his dismay, instead of the fear that Alastor craved, Charlie merely nodded at his little spiel and politely—politely!—booped him on the nose.
Twice.
Charlie and Alastor were seated at a small cafe that Vaggie and Charlie used to frequent before life at the hotel became too hectic. Inside, there were demons that were punished for lower level sins: theft, suicide, being a disturbance to the rest of society, etc. The patrons were often undisturbed and polite, at least when compared to the rest of the denizens of Hell. In fact, when the hotel had first opened, most of those who had frequented this establishment had actually gave a thought into joining the redemption business. Not all were redeemed, however, but everyone was in a work in progress.
As it were, Charlie was entranced by the newer additions on the menu while Alastor was nursing a mug of black coffee. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his feet tapped nonsensically on the hardwood flooring, and his smile was strained at best.
"I feel like I want to order," Charlie announced as she snapped the menu shut. She assessed Alastor's position and the fact that his menu was busy acting like a coaster for his coffee. Like always, his eyes were trained on hers—creepy, but not as much as when they had first met. "What say you, Al?"
He gave a long suffering sigh before gesturing towards the soup section on his menu. "Probably not the most palatable of choices, but it will have to do."
"Food snob," Charlie lightly teased. "You won't like it until you try it."
He arched an eyebrow, his foot ceasing its tapping. "Does that apply to this situation?"
"Kind of? Look, it's been a while since we've had some downtime without business hanging over our heads. Why not just have some fun for a couple hours before we start filing our taxes and whatnot." Charlie stirred in some sugar into her tea and inhaled the inviting aroma. "I mean, if Angel can go on a date, then why not us?"
Alastor's radio static, which had been a low murmur for the majority of time they had been staying at the cafe—at Charlie's request, of course—suddenly stopped. The dead silence, which had been foreign to Charlie ever since the Radio Demon had shown up at her door, had most of the patrons that were brave enough to withstand the Radio Demon's presence running. However, Charlie had been more than acquainted with Alastor at this point—at this point, they could be considered friends—and she simply took another calming sip of her tea. Gone were the days where she felt socially awkward and shy around her dear friend. A perturbed Alastor was still an Alastor that didn't have the means to hurt her. She was too powerful for that, anyway.
Besides, Alastor looked like he had sucked on the world's sourest lemon than angry.
Which was obviously a big improvement.
"Would you care to repeat that, Charlie?"
"Fine. I'll rephrase it." Charlie leaned forward into Alastor space, causing him to jerk backward and away from her. The radio silence continued and Charlie couldn't help but smirk at Alastor's… lack of bravado. "You. Me. On a date. Now."
Alastor blanched at that and for a moment, Charlie almost felt bad.
But this was Hell, she was the Princess of all of Hell, and she would be damned if she didn't feel a little vindicated for all the times that Alastor had scared her in the past. Revenge was sweet whenever she was serving it.
Soon, the usual radio static resumed, although it sounded like he was flipping through channels before settling on something that sounded like slow jazz.
"Trying to lift the mood?"
"Were you requesting that we go on a date right now or…" Alastor almost sounded embarrassed. He fiddled with the tie that was wound tight against his throat and his ears, cute little things they were, had lain flat against his head. "… are we already on one?"
"Depends. You get to decide. Either way, we are going to enjoy ourselves." With that note of finality, Charlie turned back to her tea and enjoyed the sweetness that settled gently against her tongue.
Alastor's ear's seemed to shudder against his head before he, too, took a sip of his preferred drink.
"A date." He shook his head at that colloquialism, a disturbed look on his features. "Back in my day, we would call it courting and it was usually the gentleman coaxing the dame and not the other way around."
Charlie shrugged. "It's the twenty-first century and counting. You either get with the times or you'll eventually be left in the dust." She giggled quietly to herself. In a voice no louder than a mouse's whisper, she said, "I'm older than you, but you're acting like an old man."
Alastor's ears twitched in irritation. "I heard that, dear."
"I would be surprised if you didn't. Now, about that date?"
"I should have known that you wouldn't forget." Alastor drummed his fingers atop the table. The jazz that was playing in the background seemed to grow little distorted and erratic the faster that Alastor continued his little drumming session until—
"I suppose we might as well make the most of our time spent right in the here and now." He still looked a little perturbed, but the jazz had returned and the smile that was on his face was one of gentle consideration. He had agreed. "But please, nothing untoward and violating the five—"
"The five foot rule," Charlie chimed in, looking like she had won a million dollars worth of gold. "Don't worry, Al! I got your back! It's not like I would make you do anything that would make you uncomfortable."
"This farce of a date says otherwise." Voice dry, Alastor hummed a few bars of an old musical number he heard when he was a boy and proceeded to stand from his seat. Any demons that had not left the vicinity began to run out the doors or fall unconscious to the ground—staff included. "However, I suppose that I must bend one of my rules just this once."
A little worried that she may have pushed his buttons a little farther and harder than what was necessary, Charlie also stood up—albeit, a little too hastily so that her seat toppled to the ground.
"Alastor, what are—"
He took both of her hands in his and smiled a smile that was fit for one of the most mischievous imps in all of Hell.
"What is a date without a little entertainment?" He whistled low under his breath and immediately, there was a change in lighting, scenery, and even the table that they had occupied appeared to be heavily laden with food. "Care for a dance, my dear?"
Charlie looked in awe at their arrangements before pulling in Alastor close so that their bodies were flush with each other. She could feel both of their bodies melding into each other as their feet seemed to know what to do.
"It would be my pleasure, Alastor."