Alright, when was the last time you slow danced?"
"Uh...probably with my dad, when I was like ten."
Angel had taken up a space in one of the empty ballrooms off the main hallway, flickering through the collection of records they'd brought down from the library as she finished the last bits of rice stuck to the bottom of the classic white Chinese take-out boxes that they'd scattered across the floor. The spider demon finally seemed satisfied with his choice, placing the record on the player and setting the needle carefully into the grooves before turning to her with a soft smile.
"That's real cute, toots. But you neva' danced with a fella' before?"
"I didn't exactly date princes in life, at least not ones that stayed princes for long."
"You wanna' talk about it? I mean, you kinda' already mentioned it but, I got a lot'a experience with jerks."
"No, it's okay."
Clover went to climb to her feet, but Angel held out a hand to stop her before she got too far.
"Nah, shoes first. It's no use if ya' don't practice in them."
She sighed, her nerves flaring up at the thought of doing something stupid in front of somebody else. Her feet were soon adorned with a simple t-strap heel, black against the pale ivory of her ankles and just high enough to make her nervous. She stood slowly, taking the hand offered by Angel Dust and steadying herself on her feet. It had been years since she'd walked in anything with a heel, more used to the platforms of her boots than anything else. She took some time just walking across the hardwood floor to get used to them, before turning to Angel with as much confidence as she could manage.
"Alright, how do we do this?"
"Well, first of all, breathe. I don't think you took one breath 'dat entire time. Two, you're gonna have to let the Jon lead, alright? Ya' can't be doin' any of that stubborn shit in this kinda situation."
"I am not stu-. Okay, fine, I'll let you lead."
"Alastor won't even give ya' the chance, so don't worry too much about it. He's good at the kinda' thing, I've seen 'im do it before. Now, what kinda stuff do you already know, I'm gonna guess probably mostly more stuff from your time but-"
"I did dance when I was a kid, but yeah, mostly just the 'jump around, do the same few moves over and over, get inappropriately close to people' kind of stuff."
"Aye! 'Dats actually kinda' good, I know it don't mean much to ya', but that's pretty much how most people saw the dancin' that got popular back then. My, uh, dad still complained about it, even when I was all grown up! Ya' know how parents are."
"We used to watch old Elvis and Beatles tapes growing up, I heard all about how much my great-grandparents hated it. And you couldn't even get them started on disco or rock n' roll unless you wanted to be there for the next three days."
"Sound's about right, what time they from?"
"Uh, my grandparents were in their early twenties in the 60's I think, there's still photos of my grandmother with a beehive in our house som- Well, there was at least, I'm not sure now, and my mom was born in 1970."
"Shit, when were you born?"
"1995."
"That don't even sound like a real year to me. Anyways, you did dance, what were you, like, a ballerina or somethin'?"
"I did tap, jazz and ballet as a kid, probably until I was about 9?"
"Alright, some of that broadway business might help. Ya' know anything about the kind of dancin' we did?"
"Oh, I know about what type of dancing was in fashion, I've watched lots of old movies, it's just being able to do it that's the problem. I think I've tried to teach myself to Charlston about a million times."
"That makes this easier, c'mere."
Angel took her hand, placing it as close to his shoulder as her smaller stature would allow, tucking one set behind his back before taking her other hand with his and settling his other on her waist. The music was soft behind them as he spoke, his voice echoing off the high walls.
"So, the two big ones to know are the Foxtrot, and the Waltz. If you can do those two, all of that other junk is easy, it's just steppin' in time with ya' partner with a lot more bouncin' around. Ready?"
Clover sighed, looking down at their feet with an anxious chew of her lip before looking back up at him again.
"As I'll ever be."
It was late at night before they'd finished, Clover's feet sore but with fewer blisters than she'd expected despite effectively breaking in a new pair of shoes in one day. Once she'd gotten the basic steps of a couple dances down, they'd moved on to the more challenging, reckless movement that she expected to be faced with the following evening. Putting trust in another person to throw her around at high speeds and lead her into territory that could have her looking ridiculous wasn't something she was as comfortable with as she could have been, whether through the trauma of circumstances or just because of her nature, she wasn't sure. Angel moved easily from the more classic couples dances to the swing that would have been popular during the overlap of his own life with Alastor's, and even more easily moved to swaying to the more modern music they played once they'd returned back to the privacy of her room with the leftover Chinese food and shopping bags from earlier in the day. Angel was trying on his latest outfit, twirling in the mirror she'd dusted off and placed against one of the bare walls. It was a cute but barely-there ensemble with ruffles and ribbons, dark blue against the white of his fur. Clover had laid herself across her bed, watching lazily for a while before finding herself asking a question she was almost sure of the answer too, but didn't feel comfortable assuming.
"Hey Angel, this outfit is for a dance, right?"
"Yea, what about it?"
"What kind of dancing?"
Contrasting bright pink and dark black turned towards her in the middle, his smile softening as his lower set of arms crossed over tilted hips.
"The exotic kind, toots. Pole dancin', strippin', you name it. All that kinda' thing is my gig."
"Do you like it?"
The spider demon took his time changing back into the large t-shirt and shorts, Clover averting her eyes until she felt the weight of him shifting the bed beneath her. He plucked an eggroll from the bag, shoving more than half of it into his mouth and chewing before he answered, mouth half full.
"Which part? The dancin', or the sex work?"
"The dancing, but all of it if you want to talk about that too."
"Well, I really haven't done any of the otha' stuff since I moved in, it's kinda' off the table of 'redemption' along wit' gettin' high. I still dance though, as long as I promise not tuh' do anythin' after performin', it makes me happy. Plus, 'dat on top of the money Charlie gives me keeps the boss mostly off my back."
"Boss? Like, a club owner, or…"
Angel sighed, sinking back down onto his elbows to lay beside her.
"How much do ya' know about contracts?"
"Like, in legal terms, or like, spooky soul signing terms?"
The look Angel gave her told her everything, so she didn't push for a verbal answer.
"Only what Vaggie has warned me about Alastor, really, so not much. Just a lot of "don't trust him he's a deal maker". Al tried to make one with me I think, it was a lot of green glowing and theatrics, but I don't think we did anything? I didn't sign a contract, that's for sure."
"So, deals and contracts are a little different. One always goes with the other, and one can stand alone. Contracts are completely bindin', with signin' ya' real name in blood and all that stuff. I'm in a contact, have been for a long time. Basically, I work for 'ta guy in exchange for protection, which in hindsight, is fuckin' hilarious."
"I take it he's not a knight in shining armor."
"He's a real piece of work, if anythin', we all need protectin' from him. I hope ya' never meet him, and ya' won't if I can help it. Just know, if you eva' hear the name "Valentino", you fuckin' run the other way."
"Don't worry about it, I don't really plan on making any more friends. Alastor is the only wild card I can handle."
"King of hearts, huh?"
Clover laughed, rolling onto her stomach and stretching her legs off the side of the bed. She couldn't help the yawn that sent her arms stretching into Angel's personal space, laughing when he grabbed one of them and comically set it against the fluff that adorned his chest. He pat it before sitting up again when she didn't move for a few minutes, stretching upward and tossing his clothing into one of the shopping bags. Once his things had been collected, he placed the remaining bag on her bed, and her ears twitched at the clunk of multiple boxes inside. Angel smiled, tossing his own bags over his shoulder with a smile before retreating towards the door as he spoke.
"Well, I'll leave you alone, we both got long nights tuhmorrow', and you're half fallin' asleep on me already."
Clover sat up fully, stretching and waving lazily towards him.
"Goodnight, and thank you Anthony, I really apprecia-"
They both froze suddenly, Clover blinking into the space between them as Angel's face sunk to an unfamiliar mask of confused discomfort. She stuttered, her own mind juggling questions at a rapid pace.
"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I dont even know an Anthony, I must be exhausted…"
"Who told you that?"
Angel was standing frozen in the doorway, his expression quickly shifting from confused to an upset that she didn't recognize.
"How did you know that, did Al tell you that?"
"No, Angel I-"
"Okay, then who told you? No-one knows that but a few assholes, how did you get it?"
"Angel! Listen for two seconds instead of yelling at me, please!"
Clover's anxiety was steadily rising, heat burning against the skin of her face and causing a cold sweat to break out along her chest. She was too tired to deal with the sudden mood swing, but her mind raced alongside the information that was rapidly being given to her. She had no idea why she'd called Angel Dust anything other than just that. Her eyes drifted to the camera on top of her dresser, and a thought crossed her. It was ridiculous and arrogant, but it was the only explanation she had. Clover reached for the photograph in her bedside table slowly, looking down at the angelic smile before turning to the demonic version that stood in front of her.
"Is Anthony your real name?"
"Yes, and only my pops and my boss still use it, so I'm wonderin' who told ya'."
"...I don't know how I knew it, I just did. It wasn't even a conscious mistake to call you it. But, I need to show you something."
Angel planted his hands on his hips, stepping away from the door and slowly walking back towards her as she spoke.
"Do you remember when Alastor brought you into the library to take a picture of us?"
"Yea, when you two were seconds from voyeurism, sure do."
"Just...listen. I got a new camera, and when I took a photo of Charlie it was normal, but Alastor let me take a photo of him and it...wasn't. So, he had you take a photo of us, and then me take a photo of you, to see what the factor causing the change was. It was me."
"What the fuck are ya' talking about?"
"When you took the photo of us, it was normal, two demons standing together. When I took a photo of you, well-"
The small Polaroid was passed face down to the spider demon, who flipped it quickly despite her attempt to break the news to him gently. He blinked at the photo for a long moment, jaw falling slack around the sharp inhale that pushed him down onto the bed next to her. The bed creaked, but Clover didn't dare move. Angel held the photo in front of him for a long time, cradling it between his hands with a small smile before he shook himself out of his nostalgic trance, turning the photo over again before looking at her once again. His voice shook with frustrated confusion.
"How did ya' do this?"
"I don't know, I just, do? Only you and Alastor know, I told him right away because I felt like I was invading his privacy...I didn't know how you would react, and I definitely didn't know anything more than this until literally a minute ago."
"Wait, ya' gotta picture of Al too?"
"Yes?"
"How? He manipulates photos of him, the old timey bastard."
"I convinced him, the technology in my camera isn't digital. It's the same principles as older cameras."
"Shit, no wonder he likes you. You're smart enough to outwit him."
"He doesn't- Anyway. I took the photo of Alastor, told him immediately once it had developed, and then he involved you. I'm sorry Angel, you can keep the picture, I won't tell anyone, I promise, I would never wa-"
"Can I see?"
The unease that had decorated the spider demon's face shifted into devious joy, Angel Dust learning closer to her with a smile. Clover didn't have to think very long for this answer, even if it instantly solidified her biases in his eyes.
"No, I can't do that to him."
"Wow, you really are soft for da' guy huh?"
Heat rushed to her face, turning her eyes to the book on her bedside table that hid the memoirs of her time with Alastor. Her voice was soft when spoke again.
"We have a trust thing going on, it's kind of like an agreement we have. We trust each other, I'm not afraid of him, we entertain each other."
"Uh-huh. That ain't the only thing you got goin' on."
Clover sighed, falling back on her bed in defeat before trying to change the subject back to the topic at hand.
"Do you believe me about the name thing?"
Angel looked at her for a long moment before he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping forward before he stood up again.
"Yeah, I do. I don't think ya' did it on purpose, but whatevuh' this thing you're developin' is, it's some real spooky shit, no wonda' Al seemed so entertained by it."
"He seems pretty pleased with himself most of the time."
Angel stretched, looking down at her for a moment before a small smile crossed his face.
"He's a handsome bastard, isn't he?"
Clover couldn't help but smile, covering her face with her hands before mumbling through them.
"As much in life as he is in death."
He laughed as he moved towards the doorway again, nudging the bag on his way out and waving over his shoulder.
"Goodnight toots', have fun with Smiles tomorruh' night."
"Goodnight, Angel."
The bag was placed on the floor for later discovery, Clover too wiped to deal with it at the moment. Under the cozy cocoon of her blankets, the white noise from her laptop beside her was enough to calm the buzz of nervousness for the following day, the soft sounds of radio and rain lulling her into a well deserved, dreamless sleep.