"You tricky little witch!"

Elida smirked to herself as she saw Alastor let himself into her room, a polaroid in his hand. She'd been busy making a rather unique pot of coffee for him that she thought he would like; It had an extra special ingredient. She dropped the smirk before he could see it, instead looking at him with big innocent-looking eyes and pinning her ears back for maximum adorability.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, full of sugar-coated bullshit. She poured the fresh pot into a mug.

"Don't get cute with me, doll-face," he replied, holding the photo up, "You weren't frightened this whole time. You played me like a piano." The darkness in the room coalesced around him, creating a menacing visage that would have left anyone else shrinking in terror. It didn't bother Elida.

"You think I'm cute?" She deflected, holding out the coffee mug. "Here, try this. It's a new recipe. I made it just for you."

He took it, unable to resist one her masterful concoctions, but he was still irritated. He took a sip and wanted to throw it against the wall; it was spectacular; The best damn coffee he'd ever had. Why did she have to be so perfect all the time?

Elida was enjoying the subtle mixture of emotions flashing across his smiling face as the scene played out. She'd learned to understand him better than anyone had in decades. The coffee helped soothe his anger, which was impressive as she hadn't put any potions in it. Just her secret ingredient for a bit of flavor. She was slowly but surely getting him wrapped around her dainty little finger.

"Tell me, dear, what would you have done had I not intervened?" His eye was twitching.

"You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"I would have frozen that guy solid, walked away, and then never trusted you again. I wanted to see if you'd follow through on your promise, and Mr. Slimy Fingers over there presented the perfect opportunity. Why do you think I like you so much? You've kept your promises at every turn. And my divinations say I can trust you to continue doing so, even if other people can't."

He paused, looking at her for a long time and sipping the delectable beverage in his hand, considering the implications of that. She was clever. Too clever. She almost reminded him of his mother. She knew how to think ahead and play the long game better than most people. Eventually, he dismissed the shadows gathering around him and simply said, "Touché."

Alastor pocketed the photo. He liked how she looked all covered in blood and smiling. He was going to get a good frame for it and put it right next to the picture he had with Rosie in his sitting area.

As time went on, the deals started rolling in. Having control of the newspapers through Snider helped Alastor tailor public opinion to his advantage, which led to more people being willing to sell their souls for silly things like money and power. Meanwhile, Elida was hard at work building her own empire. Once her business with Ben Shakespie started to take off, her power and influence grew rapidly, which meant Alastor's association with her attracted even more desperate souls looking to get ahead through him. The Radio Demon was all too happy to oblige. Steadily, his army of souls grew.

Vox was benefiting, as well. Their regular meetings, which had developed into gaming sessions that he found himself thoroughly enjoying, were a nice reprieve from the stress of being who he was, even if he had to see Alastor's stupid face every time. Elida was good at keeping them both in check, and it was baffling how easily the Radio Demon listened to her when she told him to calm down. Vox's soup kitchen had earned him a fair amount of brownie points with the Ambassador, and it helped ease the PR problem from Valentino's outburst a while back. Win win.

Several months in, with the help of a newly overflowing supply of addiction treatment, a few dozen souls had achieved their redemption. Elida noticed that every single one of them either never sold their souls in the first place, or they were able to quit their contracts of employment, just like Angel Dust had. Husk, however, was still stuck. He'd been sober for months, working incredibly hard to better himself, and everyone agreed he was just as ready as all the others had been when they'd ascended. But something still held him back.

It was time for Elida to make her move. And she wanted witnesses. She'd prepared for this moment meticulously, making sure there were no loose ends and slowly earning her smiling antlered friend's trust and respect. She had him primed and ready, and she had found just the leverage she needed to seal the deal.

"Allie," she said sweetly, approaching him with big, pleading eyes. "I wonder if you might help me with something." She'd made sure to put a little extra effort into looking especially pretty today. No sense in ignoring her most effective assets.

Alastor looked up from his paper, sipping another mug of coffee that she'd made for him. Suspiciously, she wouldn't let anyone else drink it, but once he'd tasted her secret recipe, he refused to drink any other kind. "Yes, dear?"

She liked it when he called her that.

Elida gestured for him to follow her into the main parlor, where several people were starting their days, including Husk and Charlie. Other than the newest arrivals that were still getting used to the hotel scene, no one paid any mind to the overlord or the angel they'd grown so accustomed to seeing.

Husk wiped down the bar counter slowly. He looked so sad, it hurt Elida's heart. She hoped this would work.

"I have something I need to do that can only be done in Heaven," she began, "It will take several trips. I'll be going up there once a month or so for some time until I've succeeded in my goal. I want you to come with me."

That got his attention. As a matter of fact, it got everyone's attention. Eyes looked up from their phones, forks were set down, and conversations stopped. Everyone was watching. Just what she'd wanted.

"I beg your finest pardon?" He narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure where she was going with this, and he didn't like the idea. Lilith was up there. Running into her with other people around would not go well. She'd kept him well hidden from everyone else in the seven years he'd been missing. No one knew he'd been there.

"I need someone good with words," she explained, "with a strong association to the hotel, that has experience with soul contracts, that knows how to behave with decorum, and that I can trust not to do something stupid. You're the perfect candidate. You're smart, skilled, and you'd do a better job than anyone else I know." A little ego stroking never hurt. She batted her eyes at him for good measure.

Alastor loved being flattered, but Elida didn't know about Lilith, and he didn't want her to. "You sweet talker, ha ha," he flirted, pinching her soft cheek, "but we both know I don't belong among the angels, and that's just fine with me. What is this mysterious task, anyway?" He couldn't help but notice she was using the same negotiation tactic that he often liked to employ: Refusing to give all the details upfront and hoping the other party would agree without question. He was too smart for that to work.

Her smile grew a bit. There was something strange behind her eyes; some unidentifiable mischief that reminded him a bit too much of himself. She leaned in, her proximity making him feel very odd and tingly. "I'll make it worth your while." She still didn't answer his question.

"Oh?" He found himself mirroring her, leaning in without even intending to do so, "And how do you fancy you'd do a thing like that?"

She began to circle him like a shark, her own grin growing sultry and flirtatious. Her voice lowered a bit, and her tone shifted from the usual soft and sweet to a more seductive, almost predatory sound. He stood still where he was, his self-assured smile fixed firmly on his face, but something very unfamiliar was happening in places he didn't want to think about. He held his staff in front of himself, hands resting atop it to hide the evidence of the effect she was having on him. To everyone else, he looked exactly the same as he always did, chin in the hair and teeth sharp as knives. But Elida noticed. Elida always notices.

Her voice seeped into his head like a spell. She spoke slowly, "How would you like to see Van Gogh's newest paintings at a museum filled with the work of the most elite artists in history?" She brushed a hand over his shoulder, trailing her cold fingers across his chest as she circled around him. His eye twitched. Sweet mercy, what was this woman doing to him?

"How would you like to watch Shakespeare's Hamlet, performed by the original cast?" She placed her hands on his shoulders and pressed her body against his back. He could feel her breath on his neck. A shiver went down his spine. It must be from the cold… wasn't it? His smile never faltered.

"What would you do to taste the meal that inspired the Greek idea of ambrosia? I can make that happen." Her voice was almost a whisper now, but it managed to carry across the silent room. He couldn't react, everyone was looking.

"All lovely things, my dear, but you'll have to do better than that." He couldn't bring himself to push her off of him.

"Here are my terms," she stated, "If you sign the contract I've prepared, and let one soul of my choosing go free," she finally lowered her voice so quietly that their audience couldn't hear, "I'll take you to see your mother."

Fuck. He'd wondered when she'd use that. After trading a piece of her skin in exchange for knowing who he'd been writing to, he'd waited and waited for the other shoe to drop. But she hadn't done anything with the information until now. He'd almost hoped she'd forgotten about it. Still, she had him. She'd found out what he wanted and named his price.

"Show me the contract," he held out his hand. Whispers broke out among the hotel guests. No one quite understood what was happening. They all wondered what she could possibly have said to him.

She produced the document and graciously held out a pen for him. He didn't take it, instead adjusting his monocle and examining the paper carefully. He wouldn't be caught underestimating this woman again. Not after getting to know just how clever she could really be. Even he could never quite guess her next move, which admittedly, was extremely entertaining.

The contract was well-written, detailing that while his autonomy would be intact, and she wasn't trying to gain ownership of his soul, he would be unable to cause any harm to anyone other than in acts of self-defense while behind Heaven's gates. He would be required to stay within Elida's sight at all times, and she would act as a sort of parole officer, allowing him to move and explore so long as she was there to keep him under control. Signing the contract required him to relinquish a single soul as an act of good faith to ensure he understood the gravity of the task he'd be expected to assist with.

The document was already signed and approved by no less than two Seraphim.

Elida wanted his help finding loopholes. He'd have access to archives that no sinner had ever seen. Alastor was suddenly far more interested in her offer. She may have just handed him the key to his own freedom on a silver platter. Running into Lilith was just something he'd have to risk.

He took the pen. "You've got yourself a deal," he declared, green symbols appearing around him in his excitement. She was still draped over his shoulder. He signed his name and shook her hand, sealing the agreement.

"Hold on," Charlie spoke up, "What the fuck just happened? You're taking Alastor to Heaven?"

"As a sort of independent contractor, yes." She looked at her new legal consultant, "I believe I get to pick one soul for you to set free."

"Who's the lucky chap?"

"Husker."

"Why am I not surprised?" Alastor raised his hand, revealing the green chain of magic that forced the former gambler into submission.

"Wait, what?" Husk had only been half paying attention.

"Congratulations, old pal, you've got your soul back," Alastor snapped his fingers and the magic chain shattered. The leash around Husker's neck cracked and splintered, then disappeared into nothingness.

Husk stopped cleaning bottles, the magic compulsion that had been forcing him to work the bar disappearing all at once. He stood there in shock, a hand on his neck where the collar had been. He didn't know what to do or how to react. He never thought he'd get loose, let alone that Alastor would let him go willingly. And yet, in an instant he'd been entirely unprepared for, this perfect little angel just swooped in and convinced the Radio Demon himself to let him go. How the fuck did she do that?

He felt strange. The shape of his body was shifting. His claws retracted, turning back into more human-shaped hands. The fur on his face thinned from whiskers to a far more normal beard, and his wings got lighter. He felt better. More human. Without even realizing he was doing it, he found himself walking out the door. His feet lifted off the ground of their own volition.

Looking down, he saw his friends (and Alastor) staring up at him. Charlie was crying, Vaggie seemed confused, and manic little Nifty was waving a knife excitedly up at him. Elida, hands on her hips, looked incredibly satisfied with herself. She'd done it. That crazy little bitch had done it. So many times, she'd promised him that she would do everything in her power to ensure he saw Heaven's gates, and now she'd followed through.

His savior flew up to see him off with a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I'm proud of you. You've earned this," she told him, "Give my love to Anthony, won't you?"

He was still too shocked to speak, so he only nodded. His dearest friend was waiting for him. He couldn't wait to see him again. He watched as Pentagram City below grew smaller and smaller, and Heaven got ever closer. He briefly considered the people he was leaving behind; Charlie, Vaggie, and Nifty mostly. Elida would be moving back up to Heaven eventually, and Husk wouldn't miss Alastor in the slightest. He hoped they'd be alright.

Elida watched Husk rise into the sky toward paradise. She took her best friend's hand in hers as they stood there. Alastor didn't stop her; He let her get away with a lot of things that other people would be sliced in half for trying.

"Thank you, Allie." She kissed his cheek in that adorable way she always did. "I know souls are worth a lot to you. I'll make good on my end of the bargain."

She'd better, or he'd never forgive her for getting his hopes up. He'd trade a thousand souls in a heartbeat if it meant he could see his mom one more time.

"Well then," he asked in his typical cheerful tone, radio static distorting his words ever so slightly, "When do we leave?" He wouldn't let his voice betray his thoughts.

"Today, as soon as you're ready. Have your shoes freshly shined, and bring a spare set of clothes if you want them. We'll be up there for one night and come back tomorrow afternoon."

"Don't be silly darling, my shoes are always shined. So that's why you insisted on us pre-recording our evening segment."

"Exactly." She paused, looking at her friend's sharp face. She squeezed his hand. "I was right, apparently."

"About what now?"

"Contracts holding people back from redemption. This was the confirmation I needed. I feel better now that we know for sure. There's less uncertainty in it. It'll be easier to move forward now."

So that was why she'd added the cost of only one soul as a condition rather than asking for a new soul for each visit. He'd have agreed to more if she'd asked, but it was too late for her now. The contract was signed and settled. He forced himself to release her hand and walked back inside to finish his coffee.

Elida collected a few of her things, packing a small bag and hiding it in one of her magically-enlarged pockets. She'd prepared a full itinerary for their fist trip that allowed them enough time to orient themselves among the archives, while still having time to relax and show Alastor around. Marc was on standby with the redeemed, all waiting at the gates to say hello. He might be overeager where Elida was involved, but at least he was cooperative.

When Alastor had finished his coffee and chosen a new bow tie for the occasion, he met Elida back in the lobby, where she was sitting silently while several people begged her to tell them what she'd said to Alastor to get him to agree to this. She only sat, feet tucked beneath her chair and hands clasped on her knees, refusing to answer them. She smiled softly at the amusing spectacle of curious demons scattering when they saw him, all hoping they hadn't just pissed him off with their prying.

"Ready to go?" She asked.

"Let's get it over with, then," he wiped his monocle on his sleeve, removing a small smudge.

She stood up, wings draped behind her as she reached into her pocket and produced a strange metal device. "Put your thumb on this sensor here," she ordered, indicating a fingerprint scanner, and placing her own thumb on a second sensor right beside it.

He obeyed, allowing the device to read his biometrics. It beeped a few times, and Elida took it back, messing with some kind of app on her phone. When she was done, she had him press his thumb down a second time. A knob popped out in response, and she twisted it. The device flew out of their hands and flew through the air, moving faster and faster until it blurred into a golden circle. The inside of the circle shimmered, and the famous golden gates of Heaven appeared before them.

Alastor may have been more impressed if he hadn't been inside them before already. Still, Elida took his arm, and they stepped through the portal together. It closed behind them, not allowing any other soul to pass through. The device clattered to the ground, and Elida picked it back up to return it safely into her pocket.

For the sake of Alastor's amusement, and because Elida knew he loved seeing people's shocked and horrified faces, she hadn't told Saint Peter that he was coming. He greeted them with his typical welcoming smile, "Hello! Welcome to Heaven! Can I get your names, please?"

"Elida McCarthy and Alastor Hartfelt," she responded.

Alastor had never told her his last name.