Their walk was quiet for a long time, Alastor offering his arm to help her down curbs and settling his radio on a soft melody. Clover finally had enough of the awkward tension, looking up at him for a long moment to gauge his mood before speaking when she found comfort in his relaxed demeanor.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course! Whatever could be the matter?"

"Well, Angel seemed to be getting on your nerves back there, and I know how you feel about being photographed, and with things being done without your permission."

"Ah. Well, our provocative acquaintance does have a talent for finding his way under my skin, I will admit. But, do not fret, dear. It shall not spoil our evening."

The 'our' of that sentence made her stomach flutter, the feeling only growing into a constant thrum beneath her skin as he held out his arm for her once they reached the small staircase that lowered into the cannibal colony. She hoped to blame the flush in her face on rouge and alcohol, feeling it deepen as he supported her down the cobbled staircase. He paused when she did, making sure she was balanced on her heels as they reached the bottom and breathing slowly to help relieve the anxious bubbles that rose in her stomach. Alastor watched her patiently, allowing her to remain with her fingers gripping into his forearm as she settled herself. It was only when she went to drop that connection that he shifted, laying a hand over the back of hers to keep it placed against the crimson fabric of his coat. Her hand began to shake instantly, and she tightened her fingers in the hopes to keep him from noticing. Alastor spoke again as they continued their travels.

"Not fond of stairs, are you?"

"Uh, no. I've made too many quick trips down them without meaning to, with a couple of broken bones as souvenirs."

"Understandable. I apologize then, for us making this journey on foot instead of by a motorized vehicle, I am not fond of them and never bothered."

"It's fine Al, I really don't mind. I like walking with you, honestly."

His radio flickered, quickly changing through stations before settling on a soft melody. Alastor paused for a moment, before continuing with full radio charm.

"Why, of course you do! Who wouldn't enjoy an evening stroll with musical accompaniment?"

Clover smiled, setting her hand on top of his and patting it gently.

"I would enjoy silence with you too, Al."

"Well, there won't be much of that tonight."

They rounded a corner, having walked further than Clover had ever gone into the Cannibal Colony, and the soft rumble of music suddenly exploded into a barrage of jazz accompaniment. A group of people, all dressed in finery, were the first thing she noticed. Mostly because all of them turned to look at them as they approached, glancing between the Radio Demon and the small bunny demon that accompanied him. Clover vowed to thank Rosie even more than she had planned to, glad she was dressed properly enough to stand beside Alastor in this moment and not be an embarrassment. He must have felt her hesitation, microphone disappearing with a pop as his radio cut out entirely, only leaving the soft fizzle of static behind.

"You're unsure."

"No, just nervous. I don't… I've never been asked to do something like this before, and I don't want people to… I don't want to be out of place."

Alastor laughed, turning to her and leaning down until they were eye level. A clawed hand patted her cheek fondly before the leather of his gloves cupped around her chin, holding her in place as he grinned at her. Clover nearly choked on her heart as it leapt into her throat, feeling a familiar churning in the pit of her stomach as she blinked at him in surprise. She was surely flushing an impressive shade of red at this point, and she hoped he couldn't feel the heat building under his fingertips. When he spoke, it was completely without the alteration of his radio static, low and resonating through her chest and down into her knees.

"Are you really under the impression that I give a damn about what any of these sinners think?"

"I...I just do-, I mean, I'm not imp-"

"I did not gain my place here by listening to idle gossip, darling. You are my guest to this event, which is hosted by a friend of mine, in a place which I have frequented long before many of these scandalmongers. Anyone else is only allowed to be here only for as long as they behave properly, and risk their possession of their own tongue in speaking ill of my friends. Do you understand?"

Clover only nodded, a slight movement against the pressure of his hand, her mouth too dry to speak. His gaze softened, his grip going slack before he dropped it completely to take her hand once again.

"We may leave at your request at any time, but it was my intention for you to have a good time. These events have grown mundane, and the thought of a certain woman of more modern sensibilities attending at my side was too enticing to resist."

She looked at him for a long moment, still a bit shaken at the tense moment that had fallen into an accidental seduction on his part. Clover only found honesty in his eyes, the sharp sparkle of manipulation that she'd grown to recognize in her life vacant from his deadly grin. The burn of infatuation flooded her veins, and it was completely solidified in her mind that she was completely intoxicated by the demon who was currently gently holding her hand between his. His gaze flickered across her face as she pressed her lips together, swallowing enough to speak before allowing a small, infatuated smile.

"I trust you, I want to have this night with you. Thank you."

"For what, dear?"

"For reassuring me, and for thinking of me."

Black tipped ears twitched rapidly, Alastor's brow furrowing for a moment before his smile wavered slightly. He seemed entirely caught off guard at her sincerity, and she took pity on this flustered version of the demon that was slowly eating away at her heart. She turned back towards the crowd, straightening herself slightly before looking back up at him. His grin returned on cue, twirling his fingers as his microphone reappeared and tapping it on the cobbled street with a loud crack. A ripple crossed the crowd before them, demons scurrying out of their path as Alastor led them under the scalloped awning and through the frosted glass doors engraved with a curling script that read,

"Mimzy's"

A veil of smoke thinned as they walked into the club, and Clover was instantly entranced. The room was warm but dimly lit, candles set on top of round tables and stained glass lamps set into the corners of the room. The room dipped further down in the center, dropping off behind warm wooden railings and giving her a chance to fully take in the scene before them. Blood red carpeting led the way down a shallow staircase, branching off towards the impressive bar set into one wall and what seemed to be a lounge area against the other. She'd just been analyzing in the menagerie of demons that were occupying the top level when an exclamation cut through the haze.

"Alastuh'!"

Clover turned quickly to the source, her heart rate swiftly returning to its former breakneck pace, now fueled by anxiety rather than desire. The music faltered, the jazz band fizzling into silence as the singing stopped with the call of her companions name. The lowered section of the room ended at the curve of a stage on the far wall, framed by thick black velvet curtains and lit with a single, moody spotlight. On stage was a curvy young woman, blonde and dressed in the classic flapper attire that became the image Clover's generation knew of the 1920's. Her smile was radiant, straight and bright white in the glow of the stage lights, and it only widened when Alastor bowed slightly to acknowledge her. The woman quickly made her way off the stage, holding out a hand expectantly when she passed the piano player, who took it obediently to aid her. Clover felt the flutter of intimidation turn green as she joined them, Alastor leaning down to allow her to faux kiss him on both cheeks, the dated gesture completely at home in this environment but still filling her with envy. When Alastor straightened, she took to gripping his arm once again, earning nothing more than a curious glance before the radio host began their pleasantries.

"Mimzy, it's a pleasure as always."

"I was wonderin' if you were gonnuh' show up this time, ya' rascal!"

"I've been terribly busy."

"Oh, yeah? Busy with what, Al?"

The woman purposely turned to Clover, smiling brightly at her before holding out a gloved hand.

"The name's Mimzy, it's a pleasuh'. And you are?"

Clover took her hand, fumbling to answer as she shook it lightly. She blinked, quickly looking over the woman who was so bluntly addressing Alastor as she tried to catch up to the situation. Mimzy was only slightly shorter than she was, blonde hair curling around her cheeks and framing bright fuschia pupils that nearly glowed against the black of her eyes. The fringe of her dress swung as she turned when Alastor answered for Clover, and she breathed heavily in relief.

"This charming demon dame is Clover, a friend of mine."

"A friend, huh?"

Bright pink looked between them for a moment, her smile doubling as she lightly shoved at Alastor's free arm, giggling as the taller demon sputtered, static fizzling around him. Clover wasn't quite sure where to look, turning quickly between the twitching ears of Alastor and the swaying Mimzy as she continued their banter with new vigor.

"Atta' boy! Yer' full of surprises, Al, showin' up with this cute bunny after gettin' her all dolled up for ya' date! I neva' thought I'd see such a day."

"Mimzy, you've-"

"Ya' don't gotta' say anythin'! I know ya' don't usually get all goofy, it's alright! Listen, I gotta' dash, but I'll find ya' later! Have fun, doll!"

She was gone in a flash, weaving her way through the growing crowd with ease and reappearing on the stage moments later as the band returned in full swing. Alastor shifted next to her, bouncing his microphone off the floor and watching as it disappeared before turning to look down at her.

"Well, now that's resolved itself-"

They found a table that seemed satisfactory to Alastor, far enough away from the stage so that they wouldn't be bothered but near enough to the action to be entertained. It was no surprise to Clover when Alastor paused to pull out her chair, but the action made her heart do somersaults nonetheless. Soon after they were served drinks, the ram-horned demon glancing between them nervously as Alastor talked pleasantly about the bartender's specials, making a point to address the staff by name and seeming to find a thrill in the unease that settled across the ram's face. Clover watched it all with interest, curious about this new version of Alastor that she was being presented with. She was so used to the calm, collected, public version of Alastor that drank coffee behind a newspaper in the cafe. The silent terror that moved through society too casually for a man of his standing. Now, she had a glimpse of the daring Radio Demon that thrived in these small sections of society, flaunting his power and breathing in the fear that it bred. She felt like she should be more wary of him, this man that had wrapped her around his finger with little more than a smile, who she knew had done atrocious things in both life and death. The morality of it all made her head spin, so she did her best to ignore it completely.

Wanting to kiss a cannibal wasn't exactly something she would have been willing to admit in life, now was it?

"Something is occupying your mind."

Clover nearly bruised her knees on the underside of the table, Alastor's voice nearer than she'd expected it to be. The chair beside her had been pulled closer, the demon occupying it leaning forward on his elbows as he idly swirled his drink. How long she'd been contemplating the duality of Alastor, she wasn't sure, but the fast-paced piano that had taken the place of the slow soulful melody Mimzy had accompanied meant that it had been long enough to draw suspicion. Clover only smiled, feeling her hair tickle flushed cheeks as she shook her head and sipped her drink, buying time before she answered.

"I was just taking things in. I didn't really go out much in life, not like this at least."

"Is that a fact of choice or circumstance?"

Alastor seemed comfortable, genuinely interested as he shifted himself to face her further instead of watching the slowly building group of people that had taken to dancing to the upbeat tune. Clover stumbled, becoming aware of how close long legs were to bumping into hers underneath the table, a leap from their normal sitting position of keeping a barstool of space between each other, but she tried her best to continue the conversation casually.

"Circumstance, I think? I didn't really get asked out to things like this, not by friends or by...well-"

"I assume you're alluding to your suitors."

Clover couldn't help but laugh, doubling over at the shocked expression that crossed Alastor's face at her sudden outburst. He waited patiently for her to catch her breath before she continued.

"Yeah, those, sure. The couple I had just kind of had me hang around while they went about their business, when we went out it was usually just to get food or see a movie they wanted to see, if I had the money for it."

"You're pulling my leg, certainly."

"Huh?"

A short exhale of laughter pulled her embarrassed gaze from watching the ice of her drink slowly melt to meet his eye, feeling her heart stutter when she found them staring intently at her. Alastor sighed, smile pulled tight as yellowed teeth grit together. He paused, hissing a sigh before speaking.

"I was aware that chivalry had died, I just did not expect it to have been such a gruesome affair."

"Well, it's not like any of my prospects turned out well anyways."

Alastor hummed in contemplation, lip curled in obvious distaste as he averted his gaze back to the swirling crowd. Taking a long, slow sip of his drink, she could almost hear the gears whirring among the harsh radio static that had filled the air around them. He stood abruptly, straightening his vest with a sharp tug before stepping around the table and turning to her. For a moment she swore she saw the dark haired, tan man in glasses whose visage she had hidden in her bedside table, the grinning red demon seeming almost human as he held a hand out to her with a small smile.

"Shall we?"

The nervous shakes returned, Clover tightening her fingers around her glass as she broke contact to gaze out into the crowd. Everyone seemed far more comfortable than she, moving carelessly to the music with various vigor. She was sure she wasn't going to be able to keep up with Alastor, and the fear of letting him down seeped into her stomach and stuck her to her seat. He noticed the hesitation, stepping towards her and leaning down to take her hand from her lap. It felt warmer than usual, his hand on hers, the feeling sending goosebumps up her arms. She felt a hundred eyes watching them, but looking up at the charismatic crimson gaze that was currently leaning down to her level made all of them seem insignificant.

"What could possibly be stopping you?"

She didn't have to say anything, her glance towards the crowd behind him was enough. Alastor pulled her to her feet with a quick tug, Clover squeaking in surprise and nearly falling against him in the process. He led her to the middle of the dance floor, turning to her with a smile that only widened as those around them scurried out of his way obediently. The veil seemed to thicken around them, demons forming into faceless shadows that blurred in her peripherals. Leaning down into her ear, Alastor's voice was completely vacant of radio static as he spoke, rough compared to the melodic transatlantic tones she was used to in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Damn them all."

Where Clover found the stability to flirt was beyond her, but the glee that crossed Alastor's face fueled the fire that had been set beneath her.

"I believe it's a little too late for that."

She couldn't help the soft squeal that came from her as he twirled her with a laugh, pulling her towards him while she tried to regain balance. A look to her feet found swirling shadows gathering around them, twisting around her ankle in a dense fog that chilled her to the bone. Her hand met his chest to keep her from colliding with him completely, Alastor's radio squealing loud enough to startle the swirling shadowed crowd to gasp and recoil. Clover pulled her hand away quickly, fumbling through an apology and only getting halfway through before he took her shaking hand in his, filling the emptiness of her palm. She was thankful that the tempo had slowed down substantially, still lively enough to avoid bordering on romance but easier for her unskilled feet. Her preparations were cut short by the short shaking laughter from Alastor as he placed her hand against his shoulder, quickly tapping a claw under her chin before it fell against her waist.

"Eye's up, dear."

Obediently, she looked up at him, feeling her breath leave her completely as he took one step closer with a smile. The look in his eye took her breath away, something heavy behind them deepening the crimson that stood out against ashen skin and causing her head to spin. He pushed lightly against her hand as he stepped forward again, and she took the hint to follow his lead with only mild hesitation.

"We will have to be close tonight, is that alright? I believe our deal still stands in this situation."

Their closeness only added to her growing anxiety, and her nervous mouth did what it did best in these situations.

"Un, yeah. Sorry, I just sometimes forget that the whole "leave room for Jesus" thing really came back into full swing in like the 50's..."

Alastor smiled, looking down at her with a quirk of his brow as he patiently led her through their dance.

"Hah! I didn't take you for the religious type."

"Oh, I'm not, but it's not for the lack of my family trying. I went the opposite route, really."

"And what would that be?"

"I guess the word for it is pagan? Casually, I didn't practice consistently or align to any specific powers, I thought it was kind of arrogant for humans to assume anything about higher powers and their ways to use as justification for their actions, honestly. I guess it's a little late to argue that point now."

"I suppose that is a smart way of looking at it, your family was traditionally Christian, I take it?"

"Southern Baptist, but we went to a private catholic school until I was a teenager..."

"Wealthy then?"

"Oh no, comfortable when I was younger, but poorer with every passing year beyond then. My grandmother, who is who raised me, liked everyone to think we were better off than we were in most aspects, she was very focused on appearances."

"Now that, I can relate to."

He didn't make any movements to continue, turning her around sharply enough to throw her off balance. Her back met his chest as he twisted their arms around each other, her breath leaving her as the bare skin of her shoulders pressed against the fabric of his vest. The weight of him beneath the silk sent a burn down her spine, catching fire when he leant down into her ear to speak.

"It's all quite a bit more nuanced than any book could explain, I can assure you."

"Blasphemy, how could you?"

She couldn't help but smile as he laughed, their usual banter calming her nerves enough for her to stop anxiously glancing at their feet. Alastor was patient, ignoring her fumbles with a smile as he led her through their first song. After a while she found a rhythm between them, allowing the pressure of claws against her to push and pull her as he wished without a thought. Her confidence only grew as Alastor swung her away from him only to twirl her around, sharp grin glowing with genuine enjoyment. They stayed like that for a while, twisting around each other in a mess of feet and smiles for one song after another. After a while the shadows that hid the crowd from her didn't matter anymore, her mind entirely tunnel visioned on the dashing demon that was leading her through her new experiences. When the song faded into the next, he paused, seeming to gauge a reaction from her on whether she wanted to continue or not, but she wasn't thinking of anything but remaining with him in that moment. The decision wasn't up to them, it seemed.

"Care if I cut in?"

They both turned, looking down at the person that had seemingly suddenly appeared behind Alastor. Mimzy was swaying barely a foot away, hands planted on plump hips as she looked over their embrace. Clove dropped her hands before Alastor did by seconds, stepping backwards as she untangled her fingers from his. His claws drug against the beading of her dress, clinking quietly as he stepped backwards and straightened his vest with a sharp tug before turning to the flapper.

"Mimzy, while I am flattered, I do believe that st-"

"Oh no, I wanna dance with the bunny, not you, handsome. Ya' can cash ya' check lata'."

Alastor sputtered, feedback squealing as his ears twitched rapidly as he looked between the two women. Clover felt for him in that moment, even as she giggled behind her gloves at Mimzy's constant barrage of teasing. She finally calmed enough to speak, sparing the stuttering demon.

"I'm alright with it if you are, Al. I don't mind, really, and you shouldn't have to be stuck with me all night."

"That's entirely beside the point, you're-"

"See! Let the girl have some fun, why don'cha go get us all somethin' tuh' drink and we'll join ya' in a shake n' a shimmy, huh?"

The Radio Demon scowled, sighing before looking once again at Clover. She smiled, trying to be as reassuring as she could, as odd it felt to be assuring the Overlord. Their relationship, as much as it made her flutter to call it that, continued to become more confusing with every passing moment spent together, shifting from an odd push and pull of curiosity between demons to something seemingly more human. Finding any emotion in Alastor besides the toxic positivity and harsh temper that gained him notoriety felt oddly intimate to her, noticing the rolling radio stations flickering softly behind the swell of music and the tiny twitch of his smile and recognizing the signs of what she assumed was anxiety feeling almost to close for comfort. She ignored the twitch of her hands longing to reach out to him, instead allowing Mimzy to clasp them in her own.

Alastor seemed to come to terms with the situation, nodding sharply before turning on his heel and moving swiftly through the parting crowd. It was only when Mimzy tugged sharply on her hands that she realized she had been staring after him, watching the top of his ears move through the crowd before he reappeared at the bar above them. The softened voice below her drew her attention back to the woman in front of her.

"Golly, you're carryin' a torch high for that one, aren't ya'?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't worry 'bout it doll, I've been there, I know how it is."

"What do you mean?"

"You aren't the first Jane to have a lil' crush on that one, I mean, look at him! Ya've gotten farther than I ever did, but that's all ancient now."

Clover didn't know what to say, allowing Mimzy to dance circles around her while she barely tapped her toes. The flapper was far better at this than she was, obviously, but the unbridled joy that radiated from her kept Clover's self-judgment at bay for now. She was curious about the relationship between Mimzy and Alastor, the bubble of green icker still sitting in the back of her throat and growing the more she thought about it. Jealousy was a vice she had never been proud of, one of many, but it's existence only further solidified how far she had fallen. Mimzy finally slowed, turning towards Clover with a devious smile.

"So, how long ya' been here? Ya' fresh right?"

"I honestly don't know, a couple of months maybe? I don't even know how time works down here…"

"When'd ya die?"

"Valentines Day."

"Jesus doll, what happened? Someone break ya' heart or somethin'?"

She didn't answer, stepping back from their fun as her heart sank. Mimzy caught on quickly, reaching out and catching her wrists before she could sink into the crowd around them.

"Hey! I didn't mean it like that, ya' don't gotta say nothin'. We're not gonna judge ya' for it, we're all sinners down here. I was just wonderin' how long ya'd been courtin' with Al."

"I...what?"

"Oh, come on, ya' not a dumb bunny! I don't think I've eva' seen that man bring a date to anythin'."

Mimzy took her arm, slowly walking them in the direction Alastor had gone while Clover stuttered through an answer.

"He said, uh, he said that usually Rosie would be who he would ask to-"

"Hah! And ya' believed him? Oh honey, that man has neva' gone out on anyone's arm, and definitely not in the way he waltzed in 'ere with you. He's showin' you off like a shiny new penny. Alastor shows up to all'a these things solo, just long enough for a laugh' at the common folk' shakin' in their shoes and to check up on lil' ol' me before he locks himself up in that tower of his like some kinda' princess."

Clover couldn't help but laugh, thinking back on her conversation with Alastor the first night he walked her home at Mimzy's comment. When she calmed down enough to talk, she decided to fight her embarrassment by turning the conversation around.

"It sounds like you've known him for a while."

"Oh yeah! We go way back, he popped up down here a little while afta' I did. Once he was done goin' on his little spree and calmed down with the theatrics', he popped intuh' my lil' place lookin' like a million bucks, ordered a drink and sat himself centa' stage for my show. Nearly knocked my socks off, bein' all charmin' and smooth the way he is! We've been friendly eva' since."

"Spree?"

"Yea, he was an awful thing when he first got 'ere. He's a killa', ya know that, right?"

Clover nodded, heart softened by the genuine concern that crossed the blonde's soft features. She knew of Alastor's hobbies, of course, the night of his radio show had solidified that knowledge to concrete. The extent of what he did when not spending time at the hotel bar or walking with her across the streets of the city, that much she wasn't sure. Alastor's bloodstained reputation often escaped her mind in their moments together, even though Vaggie had made her aware of it shortly after their introduction.

"As twisted in life as he is in death"

Or something like that, she remembered. The mystery of Alastor continued to unfold, and Clover had to admit that she was content with being slowly twisted around those clawed fingers. Before the existential dread of pondering her own dying morality set in, Clover ushered the conversation forward towards more lighthearted topics.

"So you also, were, uh…"

"A little giggly ova' him? I'm dead, not blind, doll."

"Does he know?"

"He caught on, I'm not 'xactly subtle. What, ya' think he hasn't caught on ta' ya' little crush yet?"

Her face lit up like a firecracker, her flush surely showing through the painted rouge. Both irritated at her apparent obvious feelings and embarrassed that she was so easily found out by everyone around her. It was all backlit by the overwhelming dread that Alastor did know about her feelings, unsure of what the demon would do with the knowledge. Would he string her along for his own entertainment, or turn her down when her feelings didn't fade? Clover followed the question where it led, turning to Mimzy with a voice that was as small as she felt.

"What did he do about it?"

"Al? Well, he neva' really responded to my flirtin', so it wasn't like he led me on or anythin'. Eventually, we got a little too much giggle wata' one night and I just up and told 'em! He's a gentleman ya' know, so he just let me down easy and said he was flattered, but it wasn't gonna' happen. I moved on, figured out that we wouldn'tve worked togetha', and now we're here!"

"What the devil are you two talking about?"

Clover looked up, finding herself barely a breath away from Alastor's shoulder, their gaze finding each other's as her ears began to burn. Mimsy bounced beside her, quickly answering with a smile.

"It's all girl talk Al, don'tcha worry ya' fluffy lil' head about it! Now, whatcha' get me?"

Taking the drink that Alastor slid her way, Mimzy climbed into the one of the two remaining empty bar stools beside him, leaving the one at Alastor's hip to her. Clover swallowed her hesitation and slid onto the polished wooden stool, steadying herself against the bar as she found her balance. A tall glass was pushed towards her by clawed fingers, the liquor honeyed in color and topped with a small slice of honeycomb and a twisting flower. Sipping it slowly, she was met with a sweet taste of honey and lemon. Alastor had picked up on her tastes by this point, the thought causing a giddy swell in her chest that only grew as she turned to face his smile.

"I like it, what's it called?"

"Why, it's the Bee Knee's, my dear!"

"Ya got' that right, doll!"