This isn't going to be as much of a slow burn as "I'm a Fool to Want You" was, but still longer than I initially planned it to be. Damn these two for making me wanna write more about them!
Title Song: "Stuck With You" by Voltaire.
Another song that is referenced in this chapter is "Smile" by Nat King Cole.
"Rise and shine, sweet wife of mine!"
The exuberant greeting and the sudden light shining through Tina's eyelids jolted her awake. Groggily, she sat up in her new bed and stretched.
"God, what time is it?" she groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Nine in the morning!" Alastor exclaimed.
Her eyes popped open. "Nine?!"
"I let you sleep in!"
She flopped back onto her pillow. "Fucking Christ! Why, why, why did ya wake me up so goddamn early?!"
She felt a dip in the mattress. "Since it's our first morning as newlyweds, I thought it appropriate to serve you breakfast in bed!"
As her vision adjusted, she found the face of her new demon husband looming over her. She was about to hit that grinning face with a pillow when the scent of bacon hit her nostrils.
"Breakfast?"
"Yes, indeedy!"
She wasn't allowed the chance to rise, as something lifted her from behind and propped her against the pillows. She turned in time to see Alastor's shadow give the pillows an extra fluff.
"Oh, how rude of me!" Alastor gestured to his shadow. "I neglected to introduce you to Chesterfield!"
She quirked an eyebrow. "Chesterfield?"
"That's what I call my shadow." Chesterfield slithered behind Alastor and purred atop his shoulder. "Helpful little thing, isn't he?"
Tina massaged her temple. After the last twenty-four hours, nothing surprised her anymore.
"Anyway," Alastor said, settling a tray onto her lap, "eat up before it gets cold!"
Her jaw dropped at the spread of bacon, sausage links, toast and some purple mush, taking up three plates. Somehow, he'd managed to fit a steaming mug of coffee and a thin vase holding a single lavender rose.
"You're expectin' me to eat all this?" She gestured to the tray with both hands. "Ya tryin' to fatten me up or something?"
"Nonsense!" Alastor waved a hand. "If I wanted to eat you, I would've done so already, fat or thin! Ha-ha-ha!"
If he was trying to make her laugh, it wasn't working.
"What even is this?" She picked up the fork, pointing to the purple mush.
"Those are eggs," he explained. "From Stymphalian birds, which have purple yolks. I'm sure you'll find them egg-cellent? Ha-ha!"
Ignoring his pun, she poked at the sausages. "And, uh, what kinda meat is this? You're not tryin' to turn me into a cannibal, are ya?"
Alastor got quiet, which for someone as talkative as him, was concerning.
"Are ya?"
He shook his head. "Sorry, dear, lost in thought. Rest assured, the meat you have here is hardly different from the pork and sausage you eat up top. They're merely from pigs and cows that were raised in the Ring of Wrath."
Although Tina had been joking about the cannibalism, Alastor had indeed debated if he should feed his preferred meat to his wife. After much thought, he'd decided it wouldn't be polite to impose his diet on someone he admired.
He was right about the eggs and meat not tasting too differently from what she was used to on Earth. She nibbled on the food slowly, as she was still tired after only a few hours of sleep. She was used to working night shifts, so she couldn't remember the last time she'd woken up so early in the morning. Although she supposed with no job, she had no reason to keep such a schedule.
A few bites in, Tina became aware that Alastor was still on the bed, positioned on his stomach with his legs kicking in the air. His cheek was rested on his palm as he watched her eat.
"Uh…" She put down her utensils. "Did you want some?"
"No, thank you." He snickered. "I already ate."
A rotting deer corpse, to be exact. As much as he wanted to share every meal with her, he didn't think she could handle seeing his more…exotic dishes.
"Okay." She recoiled. "Then…why ya just layin' there and starin' at me like a creep?"
"Oh, ha-ha!" He folded his arms. "Suppose I haven't yet gotten used to the fact that you can see me now."
"Right." She rolled her eyes. "Cuz you've been stalkin' me for…how long now?"
"Forty-three days. But who's counting?" He settled himself onto his knees. "You're just so fascinating to watch, chère."
She glanced down at her food. "While I'm eating?"
"Of course! For instance, your table manners! Even while half asleep, you still keep your elbows off the tray! I also love how you don't eat one dish at a time, but sample each dish so even if you don't finish everything, you taste everything that is offered to you! And the way your adorable cheeks stretch when you chew! And how you always blow on your coffee three times before taking a sip!"
"I…huh…what? I don't do that with my coffee every time!"
Wanting to avoid the awkwardness of this conversation, Tina picked up the mug and blew on the coffee. Once, twice, three times. She was about to sip but then paused. She glanced at Alastor, who smirked knowingly. Scowling, Tina blew a fourth time just to spite him before finally taking a sip.
She almost choked. Not because the coffee was bad. It had no sugar, no sweeteners, nothing added.
She lowered the mug with wide eyes. "H-How did ya know I—?"
"Take it black?" Alastor finished. "That's how you ordered it at the coffee shop, remember? When I made that customer spill their coffee on that lowlife harassing you?"
"Oh." He really has been stalking me.
"I was thrilled when I discovered you preferred pure, black coffee, because I'm the same way!" He summoned his own mug. "Yet another thing we have in common!"
She had to admit she was sort of…touched by this gesture. The last person to make her breakfast in bed had been her mother when she was sick. It amazed Tina how much Alastor had paid attention to her, despite the stalking. He might've guessed the bacon and eggs, though, as she didn't recall cooking any over the past forty-three days.
"Ya didn't have to wake me so early for this," she said.
Alastor chuckled. "You'll have to excuse me, darling. I'm used to early mornings. What with my radio broadcast and all."
"Well, I'm used to late nights, so naturally, I'm a night owl." She was about to sip her coffee again when she registered something else he'd said. "Radio broadcast?"
"Hmm? Ah, yes! I…" He paused. "You see, in life, I was a famous radio host. Long before you were born."
He'd almost mentioned he was still a radio host, but then she might ask questions about what he did on his current show. And he'd rather she not find out he tortured souls on the air for fun.
"That explains the mic ya carry around," she said. "So, when did ya live, err, die?"
"Born in 1896," he said, placing a proud fist to his chest," died in 1933."
She whistled. "Figures. I'm married to someone old enough to be my great-grandpappy."
His eye twitched at her calling him old. "I was thirty-seven when I died, which technically doesn't make me that much older than you."
"Whatever." She shrugged. "But it also explains…" She gestured to the room. "All this Gone With The Wind shit."
His voice grew quiet. "You…don't like my style?"
For some reason, seeing him so disappointed made her pity him. "No, no. It's nice, really. I just ain't used to so much…muchness."
"Well, get used to it, dear!" And his energy was back. "Because now that you're my wife, I'm going to spoil you silly!" He booped her nose. "Which reminds me! I've gathered all the items from your apartment and they're now waiting for you to sort through!"
"Oh. Good." She moved the tray off her lap. "Now, can ya leave so I can get dressed?"
Alastor raised an eyebrow at the half-eaten food. Even the coffee was only half empty.
"After you've finished breakfast, of course!" He set the tray back onto her lap.
"I am finished." Tina removed it.
He scoffed, putting it back. "Not when there's still food on your plate."
She frowned. "Thanks, but I'm full."
Before she could take the tray off, Alastor gripped the sides, keeping it in in place. "You can't let all this good food go to waste."
"What are ya, my ma? Just pack it up and I'll reheat it in the microwave later."
She might as well have slapped him. "Oh, no." He wagged a finger. "Ho, ho, no. There will be no," he cringed, "microwaving anything in this house."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, I don't own a microwave."
"Then magic one up."
"Ha! No."
Since he wasn't letting go of the tray, she leaned forward. "So, all that big talk 'bout me askin' and you providin' was just baloney? Or is this some Aladdin shit where I'm only limited to three wishes?"
His smile shrank. "Darling, microwaving is a highly inferior method of cooking. And you wouldn't need to reheat anything if you ate everything the moment it's prepared."
"Fine. If ya don't wanna waste the food, then you eat it!"
She gave the tray a mighty shove, sending the eggs flying at his shirt. Alastor stiffened, his smile the smallest Tina had seen so far as the eggs struck him in the chest and slid down, leaving a purple stain on his white shirt. He stood there for a moment, staring at the stain, his eye twitching. Static crackled from somewhere, which was weird to Tina as there was no radio or TV in sight, and his shadow stretched along the wall.
She hadn't known Alastor for very long, but the sudden change in the atmosphere suggested he was losing patience. Now, he'd definitely made a mountain out of a molehill over this breakfast thing but riling him up might end the somewhat doting front he'd put up. She had to placate him before the situation got out of hand.
"Look, sorry, but," she mulled over the correct words, "this is a lotta food. I just ain't that hungry right now, okay?"
Alastor could feel his antlers pressing against his skull, his claws at his fingertips. Those who ruined his clothing didn't normally survive to see the next day, but he couldn't lose his temper with Tina. He'd promised not to raise his hand towards her. More importantly, he couldn't risk showing his true form to her.
So, after clenching his fists and taking a deep breath, he reined in his shadow.
"No harm done, darling!" He plastered on a bright grin, back to his perky self. "I suppose I did get a bit carried away with the portion size. I was just so excited to be cooking for my lovely wife for the first time! I'll try not to make so much next time."
With a snap of his fingers, the tray and the mess on his shirt evaporated. Tina sighed in relief. It seemed as energetic as this guy was, he could be reasoned with. Still, she would have to tread carefully with disagreements in the future.
Unfortunately, barely an hour passed before another disagreement arose.
Once Tina was dressed, having chosen a modest yellow gown with a white collar from the new wardrobe, she followed Alastor to a door she swore hadn't been there last night. It opened to a room packed with all the furniture and miscellaneous items from her apartment, which he had apparently thrown together in piles without any thought of organization. Her old couch was on its side, her refrigerator upside down, her clothes scattered. She blushed at the bright blue bra hanging off the leg of her old kitchen table.
"Forgive the mess," Alastor said. "I wasn't certain where you wanted everything."
"Uh, yeah." Blushing, she snatched the bra and hid it behind her back. "Can I, uh, handle this part myself?"
She wondered how much he'd seen of her other intimates. The only underwear he'd provided had been modest white briefs and slips, leading her to believe he knew next to nothing about what women wore underneath.
"Very well, sweetheart!" He bowed before dipping out of the room. "Call if you need anything further!"
There wasn't much to sift through. The furniture was rundown compared to what lay in the rest of the house, so Tina shoved it all into a "throw out" pile. She saved whatever food remained in the fridge and transferred it to the kitchen, though she wasn't sure how she was supposed to cook her TV dinners without a microwave.
Speaking of which, the microwave was miraculously missing from the clutter. As were quite a few items.
When she was done sorting, she turned her wedding ring three times around her finger to summon Alastor.
"Oh, my!" He glanced between the two separate piles. "You got through this rather quickly!"
"Yeah." She crossed her arms. "But this ain't everything from my apartment."
"Oh?" He batted his eyes. "Are you sure?"
She narrowed her gaze, not buying his oblivious act. "The microwave, my laptop, my phone, my TV?"
Which was weird because he'd still brought her old DVDs and VHS tapes, just nothing to play them on. Perhaps he hadn't realized what they were, given when he'd died.
At the mention of the television, Alastor's eye twitched. "Yes, well, I didn't think any of those trinkets were necessary."
"Okay, okay." She rolled her eyes. "You don't like microwaves. But my laptop and phone—"
"Who are you going to call in Hell?" He spread out his arms in a dramatic shrug. "And the service you're looking for isn't accessible down here."
He didn't tell her Hell had its own internet and cell service, but they were also ridden with spyware the Vees might use to discover Tina's existence.
Tina, meanwhile, was stuck with the harsh reality that she, indeed, had no one to contact regardless of where she was. "Fair, but I still got a lotta songs, pictures and games on my laptop and phone. Downloaded already, so they won't require internet."
Alastor was most moved by the pictures. Humming in surrender, he snapped his fingers. The laptop and phone appeared in Tina's arms.
"Thanks." She tapped her foot. "Now as for the TV—"
"No."
"Come on. What am I supposed to do all day?"
"Read a book, listen to a record, both of which I have plenty—"
"See those?" She pointed to the pile of DVDs and tapes. "The DVDs I can play on the laptop, but the tapes need a VHS player and TV. Otherwise, they're just collectin' dust."
The Radio Demon didn't want to budge on the television matter. On top of Vox potentially spying on him, if Tina got access to Hell's network, she'd see what demons really looked like, and then she'd have questions.
"Tina. Sweetheart." Alastor bent down to ruffle her hair. "That noisy picture box will rot your brain. You're better off without—"
She smacked his hand away. "We made a deal, right? A deal in which ya promised to do anything I asked, right? But ya won't even let me have a fuckin' TV? What am I, your wife or your child?"
His brows knitted together as he resisted the urge to let his demon side loose and intimidate her into seeing his side. But she had a point. Taking away items of amusement was something a parent would do, not a husband.
He sighed. "You won't have cable."
Tina decided not to comment that hardly anyone used cable anymore. "That's fine. I just wanna be able to watch my movies. That's all."
Nodding, he snapped his fingers, and her television appeared, along with the DVD and VHS player.
"Just keep that technological eyesore," he said, stepping away from the television, "as far from me as possible."
Tina rolled her eyes as she moved her laptop and phone to the "keep" pile, muttering, "Fuckin' old geezer."
Alastor gritted his teeth. This marriage wasn't going to be as harmonious as he'd thought it would be.
The next few days were a difficult adjustment for Tina. For one thing, now that she didn't have to work, she had to find other ways to pass the time. She quickly got bored of the limited movies and games she had available and found solace in the library. The books provided were mostly classics, some she'd had to read in high school and others she'd heard of but never got around to reading herself.
She didn't touch the piano. As much as she wanted to, she didn't see much point playing without an audience. And her only possible audience member was getting on her nerves.
Now that Tina was certain Alastor had no intention of harming her, she wasn't as intimidated by his presence anymore. Rather, he'd become less something to fear and more of a nuisance. Although he allowed her plenty of time to herself while he was off doing whatever demons did, when he was around, he was practically hovering over her shoulder like a shadow. He kept insisting they spend time together. Eat together, read together, listen to music together. She quickly learned the best way to get rid of him was to retreat into the storage room she'd converted into a television room. He really didn't like that television.
She supposed the situation could've been worse. The man had the power and means to demand her attention. And yet, he kept a respectable distance from her, even while creepily watching her from across the room. Which, again, begged the question of why she was here. Didn't it bother him that she wasn't interested in him?
In reality, it did bother Alastor. While he was eager to get to know her and encourage her affections, she seemed to favor her time alone, determined to interact with him no more than necessary. She didn't even request much outside of having him magically heat the TV dinners she couldn't microwave. He understood she needed time to adjust to her new life, but also wished she wanted something from him, then he'd feel more like a husband and less like a barely involved benefactor.
Then, five days after their deal had been struck, Alastor felt the long-awaited pull on his matching ring. Finally, she wanted something from him. Immediately abandoning the demon he'd been tormenting, he threw on his glamor and materialized at Tina's side.
"What is it you require, dar—?"
He was cut off by a scream and a roll of toilet paper striking his face. Static spiked as he caught the roll in his hand.
"Well, that was rather rude! You were the one who summoned—"
Now it was Alastor's turn to shriek once he realized he was in Tina's bathroom. And there she sat on the toilet, her panties at her ankles, her lower half completely exposed.
"Sweet Mother of Heaven!" Shielding his eyes, Alastor whirled away from her.
Tina's cheeks were red. "Couldn't ya've fuckin' teleported outside the bathroom?!"
"I didn't know!" He felt as if he would shrink from embarrassment. "The summoning charm is designed to bring me to your exact location! I think the better question is why you didn't make yourself decent before summoning me!"
"Cuz I don't wanna get blood on my clothes! That's why!"
"Blood?" Alastor turned. "Are you injured, sweet—?"
"Don't look!"
He obliged. "But if you're hurt, I can—"
"It ain't that, dumbass! It's just my period!"
Alastor's concern melted into confusion. "Your…what?"
"Period?" She waved at the blood in her underwear. "Ya know. That thing that happens to women every month?"
"Oh. Oh!" He was sure the blush had spread all throughout his body. "Your monthlies. Right."
It'd been so long since he'd lived with a human woman that he'd completely forgotten about the reason his mother would wash bloodstains out of her sheets every month.
"Anyway," Tina said, calming down, "I'm outta pads and tampons. Could ya magic some up for me?"
He resisted the urge to turn and show her his blank expression. "Pads and what?"
"Tampons." After a moment of silence, she scoffed. "You're kidding. Ya don't know what tampons are?"
He shook his head. "My mother…never explained what she did to stop her bleedings."
"Great." She would've smacked her forehead if she hadn't been touching the toilet. "Fuckin' perfect. I'm married to a guy who died before they invented sex ed." She couldn't believe she was having this conversation with a grown man. "Okay, so…tampons are this, uh, sorta cotton thing women stick up their vagina to—"
"Stop!" He covered the top of his head, where his ears normally were. "I don't need to know the details!"
"Oh, grow the fuck up! I don't know if they had tampons back then, but I'm sure your ma did something similar!"
He spun to wag his finger. "Don't you dare talk about my mother so vulgarly!"
Tina covered her crotch with her hands. "Look away!"
"Sorry!" He stamped his foot as he turned back round. "But I don't know what you want from me!"
She sighed. "Look. Obviously, this is gettin' us nowhere. I'd pull up a pic on my phone, but I don't have internet. I'd run to the pharmacy myself, but ya won't let me leave. So, how we gonna deal with this?"
Alastor contemplated. He didn't know what this tampon she wanted looked like. He couldn't let her out on her own. That left only one solution.
"Is there a way for you to…stop the bleeding? Temporarily?"
She glanced at the roll he'd dropped. "Well, I could take some toilet paper and—"
"Don't tell me how." He raised his hand. "Just…clean yourself up and come find me."
Once she changed her underwear and pants, she met Alastor in the parlor. He tried not to glimpse at her lower area for any hints of what she'd done to stop the bleeding. Placing an arm around her, he thudded his staff on the floor. In a sudden whoosh, the parlor disappeared, replaced by an alley. Across the street was the pharmacy Tina had frequented while living in New York. She raised a questioning eyebrow at the demon.
"I don't know what you need," he admitted, gesturing to the pharmacy. "Will you show me?"
A few minutes later, they were in the feminine hygiene section. As Tina picked out her preferred products, Alastor couldn't figure out where to look. Staring at the pads and tampons seemed rude, and displayed nearby were condoms and pregnancy tests. He couldn't believe such things were on the shelves for everyone to see. If they were in Hell, of course, but it seemed the living world had lost all sense of discretion since the Great Depression.
"Got it," Tina said, her arms full of the largest packages she could find.
He glanced at the products once to note her preferred brand for the future. "Anything else you require while we're here?"
She opened her mouth, about to ask for antidepressants. Then she stopped herself. For one, she hadn't brought her ID to refill her prescription. For another, she wasn't sure she trusted herself with those pills after what she'd almost done.
"N-No. Oh, I didn't bring my credit card."
"No need."
Hugging her to his side, he tapped his staff on the floor, sending them back to the parlor of his home. Tina dropped her supplies.
"Did…did we just shoplift?"
Alastor shrugged. "They wouldn't have accepted Hell's currency."
She'd never stolen anything in her life. Well, except for a classmate's pencil back in second grade, but he had it coming after pulling on her pigtails when the teacher wasn't looking.
"Th-The cameras. They would've seen—"
"Oh." He waved a hand. "I don't show up on film, so they'll just assume it's a glitch in the system." He chuckled when he saw her trembling. "Darling, are you honestly afraid of getting caught over nicking a few toiletries? Even if we were caught on camera, what are the police going to do? Summon a portal to Hell and arrest us?"
He had a point there. Besides, stolen period products weren't something worth fighting over.
Scoffing, Tina picked up her supplies. "You're insane."
He smoothed back his hair. "You married me, sweetheart. Who's more insane here?"
She didn't answer, but as she went into her bedroom, Alastor spotted the slightest trace of a smile on her face.
It was New Year's Eve, which meant Tina had been living with Alastor for a whole week. Considering there were no windows for her to see fireworks, and she couldn't watch the ball drop on TV, she didn't see any reason to stay up until midnight. So, at eleven o'clock, she was about ready to change into her nightgown when Alastor materialized in front of her.
"Here." He tossed her a leather satchel. "Pack this with toiletries, snacks, books, anything to help you pass the time quietly for twenty-four hours. And I mean quietly."
Tina blinked. "Uh, we going somewhere?"
"Forty-five minutes." His tone was urgent as he gripped her shoulder. "I'll explain later."
Then he disappeared, leaving Tina with no choice but to comply. Clueless as to what this was all about, she packed as if she were going on a road trip. Pads, her toothbrush, toothpaste, a couple books from the library, her laptop, some DVDs, her phone and air pods. As an afterthought, she packed spare underwear, as she was still menstruating.
Exactly forty-five minutes later, Alastor reappeared and threw his arm around her, not even asking if she had everything she needed. He teleported them to a room of the house Tina hadn't seen before. The walls were dark gray, like what one would find in a basement. The furniture was simple compared to the rest of the house, consisting of only a couch, a coffee table and a stocked bookshelf. An open door led into a bathroom.
Setting a picnic basket onto the table, Alastor released Tina and stepped into the center of the room, where some kind of summoning circle was etched into the floor. She watched in bewilderment as he dug his nails into his palm, whispering something in another language as blood dripped from his palm to the floor. The symbols glowed green, and Tina scrambled onto the couch, tucking her feet in to avoid whatever spell he was casting.
When the light faded a minute later, Alastor switched back to English. "There! Nice and secure!"
"Good." Tina hopped off the couch. "Now that your little Voodoo show's over…" She crossed her arms. "Care to tell me what the fuck we're doing here?"
Alastor faced her. Despite the smile on his face, his eyes were the most serious she'd seen them.
"It's the end of the year," he spoke softly.
"So?"
"Up top, the New Year is celebrated." He pointed a finger upward, then downward. "Down here, it means death. For on this day, the angels come down from Heaven to exterminate as many sinners as possible."
"Exterminate?" She knew the meaning of the word, but not what it meant for their situation.
"Kill." He rolled his wrist. "Destroy. Erase."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Heaven's solution to Hell's overpopulation."
Tina sat down, drinking in this information. The angels she'd learned about in Sunday School had been portrayed as beings of light and goodness. It didn't sound right that they would come down and straight up murder demons, who were once human souls, just because there were too many of them. Then again, God in the Old Testament had been pretty vengeful and wrathful Himself.
"What about the angels?" she asked
Alastor tilted his head. "What about them?"
"What happens if Heaven gets overpopulated? Do they kill each other just to make room?"
He chuckled. "Very good question, but I doubt the angels will ever bother to answer it."
Apparently, even Heaven was full of hypocrites. Maybe Tina wasn't missing much by opting to go to Hell.
"So, uh," she asked, squirming in her seat, "demons can be killed?"
There was a long pause. "Yes."
He prayed she wouldn't inquire how demons could be killed. He'd ensured no angelic weapons were left on her floor, but with how frayed their relationship was, he couldn't risk her plotting his demise as a way out of their deal.
Luckily, that didn't seem to be the part Tina was focused on. "Do they…go anywhere? Is there like a sub-Hell or something?"
He gestured to their surroundings. "I'm afraid this is the only afterlife there is. If an angel kills a demon, that's it. No regeneration, no reincarnation, just gone for good."
Although he did a good job of hiding it, she could see a flicker of fear in his eyes. With all his power, it seemed even he was afraid of vanishing from reality forever.
"So, you see," he said, joining her on the couch, "that's why we must hide down here for the next twenty-four hours." He reached for her head. "I also cannot let Heaven know of your presence here."
She ducked before he could touch her hair. "You afraid I'll call for help?"
He pointed to the sigil on the floor. "I've soundproofed this bunker, but just in case a particularly clever angel comes along, I suggest you make as little noise as possible." He titled his head towards the bathroom. "That includes flushing."
She scrunched her nose in disgust. "Wait. Ya expect me to just sit here and be quiet for twenty-four hours? With you?"
"We have food, books," he said, indicating the picnic basket and bookshelf, "and I trust you brought your own forms of entertainment?" He snarled at the corner of her laptop poking out of her bag. "This isn't ideal, I realize, but when you've lived in Hell for ninety years, you grow accustomed to it."
Tina groaned as she slumped against the couch. This was going to be like the pandemic all over again, only instead of worrying about a virus, she'd have to worry about murderous angels. And she was stuck with a clingy lovesick demon who wouldn't stop making goo-goo eyes at her.
For a moment, she considered what might happen if the angels found them down here. She wasn't a demon, so they might not hurt her. But if they managed to kill Alastor, their deal would be null and void. The angels might take her back to Earth, and then…
What? Go back to a thankless job, a shitty apartment, stalkers around every corner? There was nothing for her in the living world.
Alastor kept checking his pocket watch, until the hands reached midnight. Locking gaze with Tina, he pressed a finger to her lips and one to his. Rolling her eyes, she scooted to the far end of the couch, got out her air pods and one of her books. Alastor got a book of his own from the shelf and sat beside her, giving her ample space.
It was like that for hours. The two of them, sitting in silence, Tina only occasionally getting up to use the bathroom. She wished she didn't have to sit on the same couch as him, but she didn't want to sit on the floor either. Alastor must've purposefully not included anything else to sit on, forcing them to be close.
The silver lining was that she didn't have to hear the guy speak for a whole twenty-four hours. The past week, he'd done nothing but talk her ear off whenever he got the chance. Asking about what book she was reading, complimenting her appearance, urging her to play piano, telling terrible jokes, going on and on about how modern technology was the root cause of the depletion in human intelligence. If they weren't meant to be quiet, she would be blasting her rock and roll tracks at full volume just to annoy him.
Meanwhile, the Radio Demon was barely paying attention to the book in his hands. In reality, he was watching Tina out of the corner of his eye. So far, his marriage to the woman of his dreams wasn't living up to his expectations. If his charms weren't enough to tear down her walls, he would've thought she'd at least be grateful for everything he'd given her. Comfortable living quarters, lavish gifts, he'd even risked returning to the living world with her so she could take care of her bleeding. Still, she was determined to remain no more than civil to him, if even that.
Should I change my appearance? Maybe I should start wearing a mustache again.
But deep down, Alastor knew that he could make himself as handsome as Adonis, and it still wouldn't change how Tina felt about him. Perhaps he should give up the charade and show his true form, but if she couldn't stand him while looking human, imagine how she would treat him then.
All the women in his life, from his mother, to Rosie, to Lilith, had told him time and time again that romance was a beautiful, wonderous experience. Neither of them had warned him of how much of a pain it could be. Although, he supposed those women weren't the best models for romance, considering one had been abused by her husband, one had killed at least two of hers, and one was on the brink of divorce.
There was so much Alastor wanted to do with Tina, so much he wanted to say. But since that first night, he learned that no matter what he did or said, she wouldn't believe his sincerity. He'd resolved to be patient, but it was becoming so agonizing, waiting for the day she didn't flinch at his touch or frown at his presence. Perhaps he'd been too hasty in declaring this woman his soulmate.
And yet, as frustrating as it was for his affections to be unreciprocated, Alastor was glad of her company. Every other Extermination, he'd spent alone, sometimes watching the slaughter from afar. Now he had someone he wanted to protect. Someone worth sticking around another year for.
The silence was broken by a low growl. Blushing, Tina covered her stomach. Alastor swallowed a chuckle as he set down his book. He gestured to the picnic basket, raising an eyebrow in question. Sighing in defeat, she closed her book and removed her air pods.
He opened the basket, and Tina's jaw dropped at how neatly arranged it was. The plates and silverware were strapped to the lid. A folded red blanket lay on the bottom, which Alastor promptly removed, revealing an array of cups and containers. And not plastic cups or Tupperware, but porcelain teacups and polished metal boxes.
Rising from the couch, Alastor draped the blanket on the floor, covering the protection sigil. He moved the basket to the blanket, got down on his knees, and began unpacking. Tina watched as he meticulously set two places. She found it strange for him to be doing something so mundane when he could easily snap his fingers and arrange it all in an instant.
After setting the cups, he glanced at Tina. Smirking, he motioned at the plate across from him with his hand. With nothing better to do, she got up to join him on the floor.
He drew a metal thermos from the basket, unscrewed it and poured a golden liquid into her cup. Ladies first, as was customary for his time. The sweet, smoky scent of whiskey made her heart swell with nostalgia. Whiskey used to be her favorite form of alcohol. She'd only indulged in beer recently because it was cheaper. Before he could move the thermos towards his cup, Tina stopped his hand, tipping the thermos so that it filled her cup to the rim. Alastor's expression was both puzzled and impressed.
Once again, the man had prepared enough food to feed an army. A fruit salad, lima beans, an entire roast chicken for which he must've used magic to fit in the basket. Although indulgent, Alastor was an excellent cook. Tina had yet to try a dish of his she didn't like. She hadn't told him as much, because the guy's ego was inflated enough.
However, his expectant gaze as she chewed her chicken leg inclined her to give, at minimum, a thumbs-up. His eyes lit up, literally, with excitement.
It was a blessing not being pressured to talk as they ate. Although, by now, Tina trusted that Alastor had no intention of assaulting her, she had no idea what he wanted from her. He'd claimed to be in love with her, but how could he when they'd never met prior to their deal? That and the fact he'd made no move to seduce her all week. And when a man claimed to love her but didn't try to get in her pants, she didn't know how to act. Especially when that man never stopped smiling. How could a man be genuine with his words but not in his expression?
Alastor seemed to have a heartier appetite than her. While Tina was satisfied with a chicken leg, a spoonful of lima beans and a bite of fruit salad, he'd gorged down half the chicken, the beans and fruit as an apparent afterthought. When it was clear she wasn't eating anymore, he revealed the dessert, an array of small, round grapefruit tarts topped with whipped cream. The choice of fruit was a bit unusual, but Tina had never had much of a sweet tooth in the first place.
As she bit into the bittersweet tart, she watched as Alastor did the same. Then she nearly choked as a dollop of whipped cream smeared on his nose. His eyebrow raised in concern, which only made her want to laugh harder. She covered her mouth, but it did very little to muffle her uncontrollable guffaws. He made it worse by putting a finger to his lips. That whipped cream on his nose just made every action of his so hilariously adorable.
Scowling, Alastor raised his palms to the side, asking what was so funny. Finally, Tina gave in and pointed to her own nose. He touched his nose, getting the whipped cream on his finger. It was then he realized the reason for her amusement. Quickly, he grabbed a napkin to wipe his nose and muffle his own oncoming chuckles.
That single, humorous moment was enough to break the ice. Although they still couldn't converse, Tina was much more motivated to engage with Alastor during their lockdown, and he was entranced by the laugh he'd finally managed to coax out of her.
Once they'd finished eating, he produced a set of playing cards. The easiest game to play silently was Go Fish, as they could hold up their fingers to ask for numbered cards. For jacks, queens and kings, they wrote the Js, Qs and Ks in the air. Alastor couldn't remember the last time he'd played cards purely for the fun of it, without someone's soul on the line.
After five games, Tina winning three and Alastor two, she went over to a lamp and started making shadow puppets on the wall. He watched as she morphed her hands into a dog, a bird, and a rabbit. She motioned to the lamp, urging him to try. Shrugging, Alastor stepped in front of the lamp. His hands were crossed and flat, and yet the shadow that appeared on the wall was in the shape of a deer. Without moving his hands, he reformed the shadow into a full moving Ferris wheel, then into the silhouettes of a man and woman dancing. Tina crossed her arms and pouted, as if to say, "That's cheating."
He lowered his hands from the lamp, the man and woman shadows still dancing. With a thoughtful expression, Alastor turned to Tina and held out his hand. She tilted her head in question, then understood once he gestured to the shadowy dancers.
It wasn't a terrible idea, except there was no music.
An idea struck her. She raised a finger, asking him to wait as she zipped back to the couch to grab her phone and air pods. It took her a minute to find a song from her predownloaded playlist that someone from the early twentieth century wouldn't complain about. Once she'd made her choice, she inserted one air pod in her ear and then offered the other to Alastor. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. No way was he engaging in her modern technological devices. Rolling her eyes, Tina turned her back on him.
The message was clear. If he wasn't going to try her music, she wasn't going to dance with him.
Sighing, Alastor stretched out his palm far enough for her to see. She smirked and placed the air pod in his hand. He held the tiny device between his fingers, turning it over and squinting. Tina swallowed a chuckle as she tapped her ear. Understanding, Alastor tried to put the pod in his own ear, but it hit the side of his head instead. Tina frowned, wondering why he was struggling so much.
After three more failed attempts, she caught his hand and guided it to his ear. Alastor blushed, remembering that this form had human ears, which sat much lower on his head than his deer ears. He hoped Tina would chalk it up to his unfamiliarity with technology and not with this human body.
Once the piece was snugly inserted into his ear, Tina pressed play on her phone and set it on the coffee table. She extended her hand as a slow, jazzy orchestra began to play. Alastor's eyes widened in surprise, as he'd thought she would surely select something more modern. It must've been recorded shortly after his passing, for he didn't recognize the tune.
A velvety male voice sang:
"Smile, though your heart is aching.
Smile, even though it's breaking."
Alastor released an inaudible scoff. The selection was a cheeky one, and he approved.
Bowing, he offered his hand again. This time, she accepted. He pulled her in, his other hand encircling her waist. Once her free hand was on his shoulder, he led her in a slow foxtrot. She stumbled at first, not having practiced dancing with a partner for such a long time. She focused on her feet, trying to get back into the slow, slow, quick, quick rhythm.
With a single finger, Alastor redirected her gaze to his. Once again, the intensity in those eyes sent a tingle down her spine that was both unsettling and thrilling. Soon, she wasn't thinking about what her feet were doing, trusting in his guidance and her muscle memory.
The Radio Demon had danced with women before, including Rosie and his old friend Mimzy. Most of the time, it had been out of obligation, or for the fun of it, never out of any attachment to his partner. But with Tina, it was different. He felt as if he were walking on air, never to come back down.
No words were necessary, as the dance was a conversation on its own. A dip said, "I will never let you fall." A lift said, "I set you above all others." A twirl said, "You are free to leave, but will never be far from me." And as he pulled her in, catching her in a sweetheart hold, he was saying, "You are safe here in my arms."
Strangely enough, Tina did feel safe in his arms. His touches were respectful, tender, not straying anywhere inappropriate. For her, words were empty. Actions were more meaningful. She still didn't know what to make of this weird, clingy demon, but maybe, if they could have more quiet moments like this, being married to him wouldn't be so bad.
Then the song ended, and they stopped. For a moment, they did nothing but stare at each other. Tina watched as Alastor's eyes flitted to her lips. The longing was obvious. And just like that, fear from her past returned to the surface.
Before he could act on his thoughts, she stepped out of his hold, sliding her hand to his in a firm shake. She might be able to tolerate him better after tonight, but that didn't mean she was ready for their relationship to go any further. She refused to give her heart so blindly again.
They went back to their books. This time, however, they sat closer together, only a few inches between them. Just as Alastor was getting engrossed in his story, he felt something soft against his shoulder. He looked down to find Tina asleep, her book open on her lap.
Her hair was so near, the lavender scent of her mousse soothing the beating of his heart. How lucky he was for the woman of his dreams to be comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to lay her on her side without waking her up, but after a week of suffering his beloved's icy demeanor, he wasn't going to pass up this chance.
He waved his hand, ordering Chesterfield to put the books away. Then Alastor levitated the quilt that hung over the back of the couch and draped it over him and Tina. Slowly, he slid his arm around her, pressing her to his side. The soft moan that came from her made him forget his doubts. Someday, that wall of hers would crumble. For now, her rejections and hesitations didn't make him love her any less. That made these moments of familiarity all the sweeter.
And so, Alastor rested his cheek atop Tina's head, closed his eyes, and remained like that until the Extermination ended.
This chapter is pretty much ideas I'd had for "I'm a Fool to Want You," which I couldn't find room to fit into that particular fic, so I repurposed them here. It's also a bit weird for me reimagining Tina, who in my other AU was born in 1960, but here was born in 1991, and as a result engages with a whole different range of technology. Though, I guess at the same time it was easier for me now that she's closer to me in age and birth year.