A/N:

We're back! Long delay, I know. I needed a break and I got tangled up with a dozen other things. Real life and my other projects... Way too much happened and all of it is now in the past-tense. Hereafter is back and will be updating as regularly as I can possibly manage.

Art by Weaver, edits by OnceNeverTwiceAlways, Beta reading by Damlone, and kt_valmiri was sound-boarding and sanity checking. Thank gods for you guys. I wouldn't be able to manage it without you.

That said, you aren't here for the notes. On to the story!

Nick was focused. He stared out the window from his seat on the Number 11 bus, his muzzle just inches from the ears of the rabbit who sat next to him. It was not ideal, but it was the only option.

Anyone else he looked at immediately blushed and started breathing heavier. He was having a hard time reining in his nature, and that was not a good sign. Getting a nose full of divine rabbit with every breath wasn't helping matters, but that was better than sparking an orgy on the street. Not long ago, he wouldn't have minded or cared.

Nick wondered briefly when that had changed.

The surprising turnaround from when he'd squared off with their persistent enemy was an ever-present puzzle and a welcome distraction, as was the need to travel with relative innocuity. Dismissible behavior and blending into the scenery were skills that he had and was used to employing. Both were something of a necessity to surviving Hell along with avoiding detection from mortals. But he and the rabbit had pushed the envelope on discretion quite a bit lately, and that simply would not do.

The last thing they needed was a self-proclaimed demon hunter, or sycophantic angel enthusiast, bothering them. In their present state, there was no telling what would happen. He was using every trick he had to contain his ever-increasing power and hunger. His wounded Pride bubbled under his skin and tickled at the back of his mind, while his Lust clawed at him, desperate for a taste of what was dangled in front of him so enticingly.

Meanwhile, his angelic companion was…staring into space, trembling. She wasn't doing well.

"Blink, Carrots. Our stop is next."

A vague nodding was all the answer he got. Nick rested a paw on top of hers and squeezed gently. Her eyes snapped to meet his, slowly going from unfocused to aware. Through the bond, all he felt was turmoil. There was so much happening in her head that there was nothing clear for him to feel or hear at all.

"I need you to stay with me until we get where we're going, ok?"

The nod was firmer this time, and Nick felt her grip his paw back. A strange tingling feeling danced up his spine. He shivered. This mission was not turning out how he'd expected. Ten or so minutes later, Nick guided the rabbit off the bus. He didn't have to worry about her wandering into traffic, but she was certainly not fully present. For good reason, he supposed. They'd had a very busy day, and it wasn't over.

Judy followed the fox, more out of reflex than anything conscious. When he said to collect her things, she did. Most of them went into the document box, and she didn't have much. Once her gear was unsummoned into the aether, all that was left was a small duffel of clothes, her wallet, and phone. To her surprise, Nick packed even lighter. She watched as he loaded his possessions into the unsettling maw of his chest and closed the top. Then he spoke the word "home", and it vanished.

The use of the word "home" intrigued her, but she filed it away for later puzzling. She was dependent on the feeling of being too overwhelmed to think much. She'd barely had time to discover her status as Heir to the Throne of Heaven before finding out about the surgery. Then the fox had figured it out. Then he had also figured out the implications of that fact. Judy felt the tidal wave of understanding pressing against her mind, and she resisted it with all of her will. She knew what was coming, and bursting into crippling hysterics was not something she wanted to do on public transportation.

In truth, she didn't want to do it at all. It wasn't as though she had a choice. She had to keep her mind occupied or blank until she could safely and rationally process the events of her day. The outer reaches of the Fringe might be a safe enough place. Possibly Saturn. Judy threw every ounce of her remaining will into her meditative techniques—anything to keep her mind empty and the horrors of the last ten hours or so at bay. It was a losing battle, and she felt the burning hollow where her heart was supposed to be.

Suddenly, there was a warmth on her paw. She reacted. Turning her head was pitiful, as far as accomplishments went, but it was more than she thought she could manage. When Judy focused on what she was looking at, the turmoil got worse.

She shouldn't have felt comforted by a demon. She should be afraid. Petrified. He was the Devil!

She didn't hear his words so much as the way he said them. His tone was a comforting balm to her soul. All she could manage was nodding in response. She honestly didn't care what he was saying. She just felt better for his presence. It brought her comfort to hold his paw, even if she felt like she was selling her soul to do it. For a moment, she thought she would have, if he'd asked. Judy failed to convince herself she regretted that thought a moment later.

She felt more focused as she followed the fox off the bus. Her little bag felt like a lead weight when she shouldered it and shuffled down the street. She felt adrift and sinking at the same time, while concrete passed under her paws. She needed something to anchor her, to be a bastion against what had happened. Once, she would have had her duty, her service, the honor of her rank. Now, all she wanted was his paw.

She missed his paw. She missed him. He was three paces ahead of her, and it hurt. Her world was immolating around her, and her mind was itching to flood her awareness with horrible truths. She was resisting, but it was a losing battle. She fought and fought as she put one paw in front of the other, desperate to at least keep her dignity until she was alone—away from others, where she could finally break down.

Suddenly, the weight was gone. Her bag strap had vanished from her shoulder, and her paw was warm. Dimly aware, she felt the bond stir in her mind, and a slow trickle of calm flowed into her. Judy looked up at the fox holding her paw and carrying her bag. His eyes were closed, and he had a small smile on his face. The trickle grew to a flow, and the embattled angel felt her anxieties recede. The fox opened his eyes and winked at her before leading her off, paw in paw. She gripped his paw tighter and tried not to cry from relief.

Once her mood was less crippling, they made good time, which was a good thing to her mind. They were exposed. Until they were inside the fox's safe house, this "Wilde Times", they weren't safe. Her melancholy was putting them at risk, but she didn't have time to feel guilty about that. Nick set a brisk pace, and Judy wasn't about to fight. She could apologize later. In the meantime, she was grateful for the support, even if it was to his benefit too. Judy found she didn't mind being useful to him.

Some minutes of brisk walking later, Judy finally found her voice. Coincidentally, that was also when they reached their destination, such as it was. She was unsure if his intent was to distract her, but it was welcome regardless. That said, it was a bit extreme as far as distractions went.

"This is it?"

"Indeed, it is," Nick said with no small amount of pride.

"It's a ruin."

In response, the fox smiled in a way that both excited and unnerved her.

The approach to the warehouse was noticeably open and clear. Were she a military type—which she certainly was—Judy would say it was intentional. There was at least a half mile of clear sight lines from the building to the nearest trees or scrub. The river was at the structure's back, and there was an overflow canal with an old stone bridge at the edge of the land which completed a circuit from the river past the trees. For an instant, she was back on the fringe, inspecting a small outpost. There was even a moat with a bridge.

Judy realized she'd been staring and hastened to catch up to the demon.

The rusted barn-style doors screamed in their rails when the demon forced them open. Dust and grime rained down on the rabbit and her host as they passed through the threshold. Judy was displeased at the unsanitary welcome, but was more immediately concerned with the degree of eagerness with which the demon led the way inside.

What she found there fascinated her.

"It's a faire?"

"Obviously, the textbooks in Heaven are a bit outdated. This is what one calls an 'amusement park'."

"I'm familiar with the term. Why is it like this?"

"Once upon a time, this was the best entertainment for predators in the city. Rides, games, and diversions for all ages—predators only. Then a series of idiots got elected as mayors, and it got shut down. Supposedly, it was for safety reasons, but it's pretty obvious that the twits in charge just hated seeing predators enjoying themselves. I bought the land and all the assets when it closed down almost fifty years ago."

"Why?"

"Follow me."

Judy followed with growing curiosity as the fox led her through the dusty maze of abandoned booths and decrepit or defunct attractions. Classic carnival games abutted ancient thrill rides. And dry rotted booths still held moldering prizes to tantalize the kits and cubs. Everything held a gamour of memory and neglect. Clearly, this place had been loved by many. It was an unusually sentimental place for the fox to call home, Judy thought, until they came to the elevators at the back of the warehouse.

The structure itself was riddled with enchantments and incantations which hung heavy on the air. It was unlike anything Judy had ever seen or experienced before. As Nick entered the elevator, he beckoned her to follow. She did unquestioningly. It still frightened her that she was so trusting of a demon, but she barely hesitated. She was at a precipice and teetering on the edge. She knew it.

The symbolism of her situation was not lost on her. She was about to descend into a great secret on the part of her companion and protector, while also sinking deeper into temptation. Her companion was a demon of Pride and Lust—the Devil himself! Heavens only knew what kind of place he would call home, and she was being welcomed into it. She felt a sick joy well up within her as she admitted to one word: willingly.

The elevator doors opened on a black space. With a wave of the fox's paw, low lighting flooded the most lavish storage space Judy had ever seen. Half of the room was draped in satin over aged hardwood and rare metal finishes, while the other half was storage and shipping crates. Judy couldn't help herself.

"What is this place?"

"My den of ill repute."

"What do you mean?"

"This, Carrots, is my home. Not long ago it was to be my throne room—my bastion as ruler of this place."

A sense of dread filled the rabbit as she asked, "Throne room?"

"Yes. My plan was a thing of beautiful simplicity."

As he spoke, the fox moved with ease through the room. A carton of cigarettes was unearthed ,and he wasted no time in sparking one to life. A thick, musky smelling smoke drifted from the ember, leaving scents of soap, mint, and lavender in its wake. Judy sniffed curiously, and the demon smiled.

"Want a puff?"

"I've never smoked, and I have no desire to start," Judy stated firmly with her palms up in clear refusal. "I was curious since it wasn't your usual brand."

"It isn't. This is a special blend of tobacco, cannabis, and catnip." The fox took a long, deep drag and exhaled blissfully. "The authorities of this city take exception to two of those three components, and as much as I like to tempt fate…"

Judy pinched the bridge of her muzzle and grumbled, "Why is it every time I start getting answers, you end up giving me more things I need to ask about?"

"I'm talented. And you're fascinated."

Judy felt an uneasy elation at the truth of his words and buried her face in her paw to hide it.

"So—" he flopped onto a partly covered sete— "which do you want answers on? This place, my cigarettes, or tempting Fate?"

"Tempting anything is basically your hobby, so I'll pass on that. And I don't care about the smokes. Throne room story, please."

"Alright. Fate was boring after the first time, anyway." Nick pressed on before the blindsided angel could formulate another response. "Once I killed Buffy, I planned to seal Heaven and Hell into their own Spheres of reality and let them rot in their own sanctimoniousness and suffering, while I claimed this realm for my own."

"You what?" Judy squaked, barely louder than a breath.

"I wanted the Mortal Plane. It was my retirement plan." She felt ill as more smoke billowed around the recumbent fox. "Once Buffy was dead, I could seal the other realms out and take this place as my retirement home. No angels. No demons. Just a place for myself—away from the insane stupidity of the Wager and all its implications. A little peace away from everything I hated."

"Why?"

"'Why' what? Why do that?"

"Yes!"

"Why not?"

"So, you would rule earth? What would you do with it?"

"Oh…. Not too much. Just reshape it to my liking over a couple decades. The modern age is so very convenient with its technologies. Everything is for sale, and the whole world can be reached with ease, if you have a video phone. A little power in a Ewetube video and the whole world shifts a little…. I could have this pathetic little rock and the fleas on it dancing in my palm inside of a year. The whole world would be a drunken, debauched wonderland—a feeding ground for me to enjoy for a thousand years."

Judy felt sick. Her knees were weak, and a feeling of betrayal made her eyes burn. She wanted to cry, scream—beg—for it to be a lie, but all she could do was take yet another blow right on the jaw. How could she have missed it? He was a demon. Of course, that was what he wanted.

"But as they say…the best laid plans of mice."

"Huh?"

"What can I say? My old plans have lost their luster. To Hell with them. I have mysteries to unravel and an enemy to fight. I find that more satisfying than a multi-centennial orgy, at present."

Nick exhaled a great cloud of noxious smoke, and a skeletal paw took shape. Judy watched as the paw dug into the lid of another crate and levered it open. A large bottle of painfully expensive scotch was lifted free by the same vaporous appendage and tossed into the waiting arms of the smirking vulpine. Judy watched all this and tried to make sense of it. Once he had his bottle, he traipsed off towards a distant portion of the room, leaving her standing there alone.

Judy was too busy reeling from another blow to her reality. As though it hadn't been enough to learn of Nick's plans for after his revenge, now she learned they had changed. His plans and ambitions towards a megalomaniacal rewriting of the mortal world were altered. He had a new ambition—a smaller, more humble goal. After thousands of years of waiting for his retirement, as he called it, Nick was discarding it all. To help her. The Devil had decided to throw away his plans because assisting her was more satisfying than subjugating the whole of the Mortal Plane.

Judy decided to take a moment.

Demons lie, but he hadn't. The bond told her that. She couldn't be sure of his motivations, but he hadn't tried hard to keep them hidden prior to now. She knew what he wanted. He'd been abundantly clear, but he'd also kept his promise to not use his powers to seduce her. Now, this. It was probably a gambit to push her. Just another move in his labyrinthian strategy to get her to go to him and fall.

It was working.

After everything she'd been through, there was little she could do but turn to him for support. She was terrified, abandoned and, now…suddenly safe, relieved, cared for. Judy wanted to hold on to her distrust and suspicions of him. He wanted her to claim her. She struggled to not find the prospect appealing.

She shook her head at the ironically paradoxical truth of her circumstances. Somehow, an eternity as the Devil's plaything was a more desirable fate than serving the Heavens.

Nick found his home to be slightly dusty, but otherwise just as he had left it. That was only to be expected, as was his comfort at being home again. It was a relief to plunk his bottle down on the low table by his throne. He sighed happily as he lifted the dust sheet on an arm and ran his palm over the ancient wood of the chair. He could finally put it to its intended use.

He hadn't lied when he told the rabbit about his plans. He had his retirement, at last! Hell was his to command, and heaven wouldn't dare go against him in the numbers they'd need to for him to break a sweat. He was finally in a position to start his plans for the next few decades. So why had he said the rest of it? None of it had been a lie, but it hadn't been part of his plans either.

The ambitions that had sustained him for eons were now, somehow, secondary to him at best. His kingdom of pleasures was a fond idea, but no longer desirable. His throne, as beautiful as it was, felt unimpressive, despite what it represented. When had it all changed? And why didn't he mind? They were concerning questions of little account. The dust cloth fluttered back into place, and Nick lit another cigarette. The great cloud he exhaled quickly became a cluster of limbs which made short work of moving boxes and furniture to create a livable space for two small-ish mammals.

A large bed, chaise, and table settled around the large fire pit at the center of the room. His chest, a few crates of supplies, and a small chest of drawers for his roommate quickly found their way to join the cluster, along with piles of blankets and throw pillows and a small concession to the angel's modesty—just what the doctor ordered for comfort. As an afterthought, Nick pulled out a box of smaller clothes, in case the rabbit wanted to pick through it for a change of pace.

Nick knew his little display of homemaking was appreciated from the little gasp behind him.

"I hope you find this acceptable."

"The arrangements, or the display of power?"

"The accommodations. One would think you'd be used to the power."

"I can't say I am…" Judy commented as she distractedly ran her paws over her ears.

"What's bothering you, Fluff?"

"You want the list? Let's start with everything since dawn today."

Nick offered the cigarette from his lips. "You sure you don't want a drag?"

"Pass." Judy sighed. "Where am I sleeping?"

"There's the bed right there."

"One bed."

"There was one at the hotel, too."

"And a couch."

"And a chaise." Nick gestured to the space where her chest of drawers was. "And a place for you to unpack, complete with box or two for you to dig through to supplement your wardrobe—"

Judy forced a thread of flippancy into her voice. "A box of guests' nighties?"

"Thrift shop bargain bin. Comfort over class in that box. And all laundered, so no fleas." He followed his assurances with a cheeky grin. "The nighties are in the wardrobe by the bed."

Judy huffed a weak chuckle. "Of course they are."

"An optional extra, if you're so inclined."

"My choice, huh?"

"And a changing screen for whatever you decide to wear," Nick commented as he gestured to her little nook of their abode. "Off you go."

"Um…"

"Do you need me to whistle so you know I'm not peaking?"

"No…. I trust you."

"An angel who trusts demons. Now, I've seen it all!"

"Not demons. Just you."

With those words hanging in the air, Nick watched as she slipped behind the screen and out of sight. The giddy feeling that rose in his gut had him opening the bottle and wanting to pour a healthy measure straight down his throat. Instead, he sat on the chaise and summoned a fire in the central pit.

Lowering the ambient lighting created a cozy atmosphere, limiting the distractions. He hoped it would calm her a bit. As a precaution, he had already raised the layered defenses. Nothing short of the full strength of Hell could even make a dent. Now, he could focus on a few other things of importance. A message to Finnick and the expenditure of a silver Coin later, he had two loose ends taken care of.

It was just in time to hear an obviously embarrassed rabbit ask, "Nick?"

"Yeah, Carrots?"

Judy stepped into the firelight dressed in long workout pants and a ratty t-shirt. She looked utterly adorable. Especially, when she started fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Can I ask a favor?"

"A favor?" Nick flopped onto the chaise by the fire. "You want to make a deal with the Devil?"

"Not a deal with the Devil…" Judy stammered, smiling. "A favor from a f—friend."

The atmosphere in the room went from cozy to electric on the last word. The demon felt his breath catch and, for a moment, golden light pulsed through him from claws to wingtips. Nick saw her catch the flicker and dismiss it as firelight in the same instant. He smiled and sat back on his seat, letting the moment slide.

"A nightlight?" he quipped.

She chuckled weakly. "I think the fire is plenty for that."

"What's your favor, then?" An ottoman found its way under his heels by way of another smoky paw and a show of forced nonchalance.

"To feel safe."

Nick faced her and—again to his own surprise—spoke with full sincerity. "This place is as secure as the great House Vaults in the bedrock of Hell. Nothing can harm you here."

"Pretty words, and I appreciate them. But that isn't what I need."

"What do you need then, angelfluff?"

"A hug?"

Nick's mind reeled. A storm of feelings and reactions too basic and interlaced to disentangle engulfed him. Somehow, he didn't show what he was feeling. He knew that much because the rabbit didn't run. Instead, she was coming closer.

It took him a moment to realize why. His arms were up and open, inviting her in. While he tried to work out when they had decided to move, Nick missed seeing her climb onto the chaise and tentatively wrap her little arms around his chest.

What was left of his mind seized.

She was the Heir Apparent to Heaven's throne—an angel and hunter of his kind. He'd seen her power and fought her twice. She was a warrior of consequence and not to be trifled with. In Nick's arms, she felt…small. She was tiny, fragile, and very afraid—though not of him. She was trembling from fear and stress, but not pushing away. She grappled into his chest like a lifeline, seemingly finding it a challenge just to breathe evenly. An angel seeking sanctuary with the Devil.

Something in him twisted and gave. One of his paws rose to the back of her head and very gently traced over her ears. They were warm and velvety to the touch, but his caress had an impact on her as well. She shuddered, and he felt her breathing ease slightly. So he did it again. And again.

Many minutes later, Judy was snoring gently on the bed while Nick spun a brass Coin over his knuckles on the chaise. She had fallen asleep leaning against him, while he'd rubbed her ears. A bit awkward, but precious in its own way—both for its cuteness and, strangely, for its value to him. That part bothered him.

He added it to the list.

As he stubbed out his last smoke of the night, Nick pulled out all the Coins he had on him. Two Platinum Lucifers, a Golden Mammon, Eleven Silver Hoarders, and a smattering of Brass Fools. More than enough. Nick poured his immense will into the Coins, and they vanished, yielding to him their power. With it, he shaped a long series of very nasty surprises for anyone or anything that would dare to invade his home. It was barely comprehensible that anything could get in, but—with their enemy's appearance at the hotel—Nick was less inclined to cockiness. Once his traps were set, he pulled out his phone and fired off a text to his favorite imp.

Antemurale Inferni Protocol in effect.

The response was immediate.

Are you shitting me? I'm two hours from the surface!

No. We wait for dawn.

You owe me for this. I hate Golems and all that damn singing.

You hate everything but alcohol and that Cursori.

Fuck you.

First light.

Understood, sir.

That done, Nick summoned his Spear and willed it into a long, paper thin blade. The scotch bottle's top fell to the table top a moment later. As the Fox's drink sat untouched and ignored through the long night, memories assaulted him of days gone by. Some were the ones that hurt the most. Others made his paws clench in anger or shake in horror. None hurt quite as much, regardless of the scotch.

In the wee, bleak hours just before dawn, a single memory drifted to the surface, interrupting and dispersing a little of his pain. It was a memory of one night, long ago, where he stood guard at another fire. That night, he had held his post, bearing the blessings and faith of the one he protected. His eyes snapped open as he realized the only difference between then and now was that, back then, he'd worn silver and white.