As soon as he had her in his grasp, Alastor's game was afoot. His smile was dangerous as he turned to her, endearingly crooked as he took her in and dropped his chin down to speak to her.

"Tell me, did that song have a name?"

Resisting the urge to hide her face now that she'd been found out, Clover found herself mumbling the answer through a barely concealed smile.

"Axeman Jazz."

She might have tried to hide, but Alastor didn't give her the chance; He twisted her with a loud, barking laugh that turned the heads of the demons around them before pulling her to him with a sharp tug of her wrist. Her back met his chest as he crossed her arms in front of them, entangling them together as his fingers gripped into the spaces between hers and pulled her close enough to mutter into her ear the words that would be her undoing alongside that damned growling quality that melted her.

"Clever girl."

Her knees nearly buckled, but luckily, he was there to catch her as she fell. He moved her unburdened, Alastor's arm winding around her waist and lifting her from the ground as she clung to him. Her toes barely brushed the floor as they glided together, Clover reluctantly tapping his arm once she was ready to signal that she'd be alright back on her own two feet, content to let him hold her for however long eternity allowed them; But it took two to tango, and Clover had long vowed that she was a puppet to no man.

They swung around each other for the remainder of the second song she'd secretly dedicated to him, Clover only fumbling a handful more times before the end of the song, but she gained confidence as she grew used to him all over again. Attention began to turn their way as scattered applause rose up around them, both from the crowd that had begun to filter onto the dancefloor and from the friends that had joined them in giving a show worthy of such attention. Clover could feel the burn of beholding dragging over the backs of her thighs, lingering on where Alastor had neglected to depart from her as his radio rang out with applause. They fell together, giggling as Angel placed his fingers between his teeth and whistled, the world once again closing off to allow the two of them to simply exist.

A camera flash turned her head, pulling a soft squeak of surprise from her, and Clover felt Alastor stiffen beside her. It was impossible to tell where it had come from, and as the song shifted to what she'd imagined to be the highlight of the night, she decided that it was her turn to dictate what direction things went.

There was no way, not even in hell, that she would let the lacking social graces of a few lowly demons ruin this moment for them.

When Alastor went to step away, she resisted, catching his sleeve with nimble fingers before he could go too far. His radio static spiked and sent sinners scattering as he stopped dead, leaving them standing alone in their metaphorical center stage waiting for their next cue. Clover could feel her hands begin to shake at the thought of so many eyes watching her, judging her every move, but she couldn't be bothered to care as Alastor's attention returned to her. There was that confusing, warbled smile on his face once again, his ears flicking back and forth as the muttering of the masses began to fall upon them, but his eyes never left hers. Vaguely, he regarded the shapes shifting around them with a flicking of ears, but otherwise he waited, unbreathing for what she might do next.

He didn't resist the soft tug she gave to his sleeve, nor the determined sliding of her fingers across his wrist to tangle with his own again. The instantaneous brightening of his smile emboldened her further, and a more solid tug of his arm pulled him back into their shared spotlight as his radio picked up the music once again. The rolling drums vibrated against her skin as he took her hands in his, one dropping onto his shoulder to curl into the stained fabric as the other was clasped in warm leather.

"You know, our recent publicity has done well for my radio hour, the ratings are higher than ever!" Alastor's playful grin went lopsided as he began to lead them back into their dance, his radio frequency altered by that hum of warming radio tubing that Clover knew well enough to take as a warning of what was to come. "Perhaps we should give them something to talk about in the morning."

If it was a show someone was looking for, you could always count on the Radio Demon, and if they were truly going to make a spectacle of themselves, Clover knew she had to commit to the bit wholeheartedly if she wanted to pull it off.

The laugh she pulls out of him as she momentarily takes the lead is nearly manic, Clover twisting under their joined hands with a flourish that matches the swell of trumpets. Their arms reach the limits of their extension for just a moment before Alastor is pulling her back to him, taking ownership of their steps as his fingers intertwine with hers. While this rhythm is far faster than the last they'd dared to dance to, Clover finds herself following after him with a confidence she'd lacked before. There is no room between them for her insecurities to linger, and any mistake she makes is quickly swept up by him, Alastor effortlessly turning missteps into a masterpiece.

"I must say," Alastor hums as he takes a moment to lean down into her ear. "I quite like this song."

"I thought you would."

The rest of the party's attendants cleared the way for the Radio Demon as he led her, and Clover couldn't care any less about their staring as they took in their togetherness. It was striking how much they'd grown since they'd last found themselves like this; She glanced to their feet less and less as they settled into the pace of the music that consumed them all, unhindered by static or spikes in radio frequency. Clover's trust for him had blossomed alongside their relationship, pressed into something truly beautiful under the pressure of adversity. That thought itself lifts the weight from her shoulders, giving a skip to her step as she blindly follows after his every move. With a giggle she allows him to lift her from the ground, leaving no space between them as he pulls her against his hip and dips her all but to the floor, her ears brushing against the hardwood briefly before her blood was rushing back down to her toes as she was pulled upright. She felt herself bounce at the pure momentum of their movements, but there was no time to dwell any more than whatever short glances she could take to make sure she was still decent. Her skirt swung against her thighs with each kick of heels, swirling and bumping against Alastor's legs as they moved against each other. Leather-clad claws drug against her through the thin satin of her costume, pressing into the wires of her bodice that tucked in her stomach and dragging up to the dipping back of her dress. Each touch was met with one of her own, pressing her bare skin into the heat of his palm, taking the support and trust he offered to her at every turn.

It was becoming impossible to tell where he began, and she ended as they gave in to the tether that tied them together. His hands were like fire against her skin, warmer than they'd ever been and pulling her with such precision that their burn sank into her spine, twisting around the vertebrae until it all gathered in the hollow of her pelvis to smolder. The next touch robbed her lungs of air, and she had no choice but to dip beneath his arm and break herself from him to catch her breath. She knew this song well, better than he did due to its more modern release, and had expected the small breakdown to come as a reprieve to them both. Clover clapped to distract both Alastor and those who watched their performance from the heaving of her chest, though she was unsure if the rhythm she kept was that of the drums, or the pounding of her own heartbeat.

Walking around the perimeter of the dancefloor, Clover watched from between the twisting bodies of their friends as Alastor stalked after her. There was nothing comforting about the keen twitch to his brow or the delighted flash of teeth that he sent her before he disappeared behind the towering form of Angel Dust; But he did not reappear from the other side of the swaying spider demon. Instantly her ears stood up to search him out by sound as her muscles tensed, her stomach twisting with a strange anticipation she couldn't quite place. Her steps quickened, hidden with the small rhythmic skip as she paced.

The fizzing pop of static and jumble of radio voices came too late to warn her of the shadowed hands that reached out for her, sending shivers up her arm as fingers slid against the thing skin of her wrist before taking the hand that had dropped to her side. Her shriek quickly shifted into laughter as the Radio Demon twirled her back into his arms, her shoulder bumping against his chest as she collapsed into him with a huff.

"Done with me already?" His voice, light with laughter despite its rough, lowered tone as he spoke into her ear, turned her head to look up at him as they leaned together. Their swaying quickly shifted back into the whirlwind of ankles and knees as the jumping-jazz melody began to climb to its climax, Clover counting the seconds before her next trick turned its tune.

"Not yet." Clover's whisper nearly gave her away with its trembling, but she pressed on. "I hope that we've just begun."

With a chuckle that echoed through speakers, Alastor swung her off again into the mass of movement that had become the dancefloor, the heat of his hands disappearing from her skin momentarily before she was swept up again by a swirl of shadows. Demon scattered in their wake as the Radio Demon reclaimed their spotlight and placed her firmly in its center. Her head is dizzy with him, the flash of a smile and shaking timbre of his laughter as he moves to his pleasure just another instrument adding its call to the overwhelming music that moves them. He presses into her waist and hands as they dance, bewitching her with the air of him as he leads her down yet another rabbit hole of desire with each twisting step.

Clover's breath came heavily, stinging her lungs as she attempted to breathe evenly so as not to lose the wind that carried them along. If she'd not known better of her demonic being, she'd curse the ailment of asthma for rearing its head once again, but this was something different, it seemed. Instead of the constricting thickness that threatened to close her throat, it was as if the air itself bit at her lungs. As she ducked beneath his arms she found herself struggling through that familiar scent of spice and musk, but it was washed away by the breeze of their reckless spinning before it could go entirely to her head.

"Look alive dear, I believe it's about time for the big finish!" Alastor's grin is nothing more than a flash of off-white as he whips her in circles, Clover trying her best to keep her head turning to catch the rest of his gleeful expression.

It's all she can do to quip back as his hands find her waist to steady her once again, her voice breathless against his neck as she nearly stumbles into him.

"That's quite a challenge for a dead girl."

Alastor statics, but does not falter as he lifts her from the floor, guiding her wobbling knees to cling high to the curve of his waist. Her hands instinctively cling to his neck, peeled away by gentle fingers that link with hers as he shifts her weight backward and flashes her one final, crooked smile before her world turns upside down. Clover squeals a laugh as he drops her, her legs desperately clinging to his hips as Alastor lets go of her waist to flourish an arm above them. The firm pressure of his hand gripping her wrist is the only reassurance that her head would not become close acquaintances with the floor tonight, Alastor's grasp tightening slightly as her claws clip his skin in her fright.

Applause explodes from his speakers to echo that of the crowd around them, and the Radio Demon swells under the attention. Clover can't help but laugh at the dopey-upside-down grin that crosses his face, his expression a vision of self-satisfaction even from her place below him. A snort drops her free hand to her face to hide her bubbling giggles as he swings her upward again, catching her around the waist as her feet hit the floor and her balance wavers. He dips slightly at the waist to bow, earning a roll of Vaggie's eyes that she catches as she scans the crowd, and Clover follows suit with a slightly more humble lowering of her head; She saves the confidence she would have needed to curtsy to ensure that when she turns to him now, she doesn't hesitate.

Her step toward him does the trick, and Clover's hands return to their places resting in his palm or smoothing against his shoulder as they begin to sway to the next song of the night's soundtrack. Its tempo is energetic, but less chaotic than the one before, and in this new rhythm, they find some space to breathe.

"My dear little girl, what's the rush? How about supper, just the two of us?

Oh, Mr. Wolf, you want me to stay? But I fear we'll regret it one day… "

Now, in the afterglow of a grand performance only Alastor could have created for her, Clover finds herself unable to meet his eye. The state of him had been nearly invisible to her until now, hidden by daring smiles and the weight of his hands on her hips, but now she saw him for how he was. Muted skin is warm beneath the glasses that slip down the straight bridge of his nose, shimmering slightly with the faint dew of perspiration, and his breath is rough as it blows across her. Her lips part as she mouths the words, her voice hushed in its breathless attempt to softly sing along to the lyrics that felt unbearably apt to the mood of this moment; The weight of his gaze steadily following the movement of her soft singing nearly catches the shaking notes in her throat, but it's chased away as Clover turns to look up at him.

"I have the thing you love, but the need in me is way too much…

If I open wide, one of us may get lost inside,

Me or you, one of us is going to need to… "

"Clover," Alastor clears his throat with a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, turning her away from the edge of the crowd to lose themselves in the artificial anonymity of dancing figures, just two more unmasked by the masquerade. "I have to apologize for my recent behavior. You were right, I've dilly-dallied with conversation concerning- Us, for too long."

Their feet bump, Clover's concentration broken by that sincerity smoothing over the sharp shine of his smile. She blinks up at him, eyes wide as she takes in his expression in its entirety; For once she wishes her little quirk would rear its head and show her if that warm glow to his eyes was honesty or intoxication, but a small furrow of his brow as he waits for her response is telling enough.

"Really?"

She's too hopeful, too loud as his ears twitch back and his smile softens at her excitement.

"After tonight, tomorrow perhaps, I was wondering if you would accept an invitation for dinner, where we can…talk about things."

"I'd like that."

Her heels cease to touch the floor as she floats full of joy, finding herself clinging closer to him, laying her chin on his shoulder when he's not set on spinning her or swinging her with wild abandon. It's at another one of those close moments that she loses sight of her sanity, her fingers sliding against his palm until they intertwine as her cheek settles against his shirt front. Alastor shudders beneath her as she whispered against his neck, claws tightening in the dip of her waist and pinching into the pale skin of her knuckles as his radio warps the pleasant swing that guides them through this treacherous tango of temptation.

"Oh my love, I want you too,

But my desire may prove your doom… "

"I want to kiss you."

His forehead bumps against her temple as he falls victim to her, for just a second, before the weight of their situation bears down on his shoulders once again. With their fingers intertwined, he twirls her, watching as her skirts swish around her thighs and catch against his hips. It's all he can do to turn her away from him again, replacing that thin barrier of propriety between them as he tugs her to lean against him, ignoring the way her weight settles into him and refusing to look down at the bare expanse of her neck that's offered to him as her head turns to follow the sound of his voice.

"Perhaps another time."

Something shifts beneath his words, the rough edge of them eroding away the light-hearted air they'd upheld so far. There's a sharpness, a finality to how Alastor holds her now; The hand that holds the back of her neck as he lowers her towards the floor is firm, sliding its fingers across her skin as he raises her upright and releases her. There's a confusing, chaotic color to how he pushes and pulls against her, as if he's not quite sure how close he can stand. If she would describe his touch as fire before, now it sticks to her skin like tar and eats away at her resolve like acid, all the while chasing her blood and setting the slickness in the pit of her stomach aflame. Every breath she takes from him falls across her tongue, coating it with that addictive bitter burn that she can't help but crave more of. They collide again, her softness molding to the strength of him as he wraps an arm around her waist and drags her up his chest, lifting her toes from the floor as they turn together, and she finally catches a proper look at her partner from her place above him.

Alastor's skin is warm, almost healthy in its flushed appearance, but the sweat that's gathered on his brow gives him a feverish glow. When she unwinds an arm from around his shoulders to push his glasses back to their proper place, he flinches from her touch, yet chases after as she steps away from him once her feet find the ground again. His chest heaves beneath her palms as she holds him away from her, Alastor's breathing too fast, too heavy between gritted teeth.

"Alastor?" Clover's hands shake against him as she brushes back his hair from where it sticks to his skin, her thumb brushing the edge of his wavering smile. "Is something wrong? You look- Unwell."

A radio screech responds to her touch, Alastor's claws covering hers as those eyes lock her in place. Impossibly dark against the flickering glow his gaze casts between them, Alastor's eyes are blown black, his pupils wide as they dart across her worried expression and turn to analyze the crowd around them. It's all Clover can do to keep her own breathing calm as her mind races to realize what was wrong with him, her fingers curling beneath the curve of his jaw as she leans into where his line of sight had lingered on the open door.

"Al? Honey- How can I help?"

Those blackened pits that take the place of strawberry syrup and warm chocolate snap back to her with a predator's focus at the sweet sound of her pet name, the soft twang that had softened the consonants pulling him back from his frantic search for salvation in this sick situation. The radio carries its sigh into the high ceiling, echoing its hissing reverberation across the crowd and back onto overstimulated senses as the two of them stand against each other in the room's center. The music and its lyrics are nothing but an afterthought now as they grapple for a sense of understanding that he cannot offer her in his current state, but they punctuate the growing tension stirring in the Radio Demon's spine.

"If I taste you will we know

If love kills or makes you whole

Tears you open takes you home…"

Alastor's laugh is humorless as his ears twitch to catch the words, his lip curling in annoyance as he finally breaks himself from the heaviness of their gaze. His eyes drop to the floor, his fingers curling into his palm as he pulls her hand from his face and drops it between them with all the gentleness he can muster. Clover's skin screams at the lack of contact, but her drive to walk the line between them has long died in the wake of whatever had possessed Alastor's good mood.

"Awful timing…" Is what comes hissing from between his teeth as Alastor presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and nearly stumbles as he steps away from her, the whisper bouncing across her busy thoughts as it echos inside her skull; Clover isn't entirely sure if it was, in fact, Alastor who said it.

"I'm sorry- I am truly sorry Clover, but I-" Another look is chanced towards her, and Alastor breaks eye contact before she truly has the chance to see him. "I have to go."

"What? Why-"

The heat he'd surrounded her with crashes down her cheeks as she watches Alastor disappear, sinking into the shadows with a longing look that she can't bring herself to deconstruct at this moment. Tears roll over her powdered skin, threatening to steam against the warm flush of her cheeks before they curl into the hollows of her throat, staining her skin black as she truly begins to cry. The feeling of eyes watching pull her from her frozen, feeble state, not willing to endure embarrassment and heartbreak all at once. Clover's mind is empty as she drags her feet towards the safe haven of the bar, empty except for one, single thought;

What the fuck just happened?