WARNING: Some suggestive content in this chapter.

Songs Featured:

"Hello! Ma Baby" by Arthur Collins

"Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered," Ella Fitzgerald version

When Tina came out of her room the next day, Alastor was sitting right outside in the parlor. He looked up from his book and the moment their gazes met, both sets of cheeks flushed from the memory of last night. Tina was embarrassed over propositioning him, and Alastor, over getting aroused in her presence.

They immediately broke eye contact, Tina focusing on her feet and Alastor on his book.

"So…" She bit her lip.

"Yes?" His response was clipped.

She smoothed out her plum-colored dress. "Lunch?"

"Of course!" He slammed the book closed and sprang to his feet. "Muffuletta?"

The last time she'd eaten one of those had been about fifteen years ago. "Sounds good."

The deli sandwich was nothing like she remembered. Either it'd been too long since she'd gone to the Cajun café in Birmingham, or Alastor's version was simply better. The juices of the olive salad, ham and salami purged the dryness from her mouth. The zesty spices awakened her hungover brain.

As they ate in the dining room, Alastor was uncharacteristically quiet. No attempt at small talk, no complimenting her outfit, nothing. Even his awestruck stare was missing. Every time she glanced his way, his attention was either on his muffuletta or somewhere on the wall.

It wasn't until Tina was halfway into her sandwich that she broke the silence. "Ya didn't wake me for breakfast."

Alastor stiffened, as if he hadn't expected her to speak. "I thought you might benefit from sleeping in."

"Oh." She lowered her sandwich. "Thanks."

She put it down so she could sip her coffee.

"How are you feeling?" he asked abruptly.

She swallowed. "Head still aches a little, but the room ain't spinning."

"Good, good."

He took a much larger bite out of his sandwich, taking longer to chew. This wasn't like the bunker when it'd been necessary for him and Tina to stay quiet. He was purposely avoiding conversation, leading her to assume the worst.

Alastor had promised her no judgment, but what if he really was disgusted with her behavior yesterday? If the drunken strip tease hadn't been wild enough to turn him off, her sobbing and pathetic proposition might've done it. He was just keeping his thoughts to himself because of their deal.

Great. Even my demon husband can't stand the real me.

Well, Tina wasn't going to endure this awkwardness.

"So, uh," she said, setting down her mug, "thanks for lunch."

As she rose from her seat, Alastor raised an eyebrow at her half-finished sandwich and half-empty coffee. "You should eat more."

She shook her head. "I ain't hungry."

But as she turned to leave, Chesterfield materialized in front of her. Before she could dodge it, the shadow swept her up and planted her back in her chair. Alastor, abandoning his own sandwich, folded his hands on the table.

"You missed dinner and breakfast. And whatever meager morsels you had yesterday ended up in the toilet." He reached over and nudged her plate towards her. "Eat."

Tina glared at her husband, then at his smug shadow. Not this shit again.

"Later." She pushed the plate away. "I'm still nauseated."

"You're hungover." The plate scraped against the table's finish as he pushed it back. "You should eat."

"Jesus Christ!" Tina slammed her fists on the table. "Why ya always tryin' to fatten me up like a Thanksgivin' turkey?"

"It's a sandwich," Alastor said through his teeth. "It's not like I made you a buffet. Frankly, Tina, your decreasing appetite concerns me."

"And who are you to tell me how much I should eat? My body, my choice!"

"It isn't healthy to be skipping meals, dear."

That did it. All the frustration that had pent up over the last several weeks was finally reaching its breaking point.

"What do you care about my health?" She stood up so fast, Chesterfield didn't have time to catch her chair. "I ain't been outside in weeks! I ain't even left this damn floor!" She circled the table. "Meanwhile, you get to go out all the time doing who knows what that for a while I started thinkin' ya were pullin' this shit with other girls out there, but now I know that's straight up baloney cuz I practically threw myself at ya last night and ya didn't take the chance!"

Alastor was frozen in his seat. Rather than offended, he was enthralled. Her passionate rants at people who infuriated her were one of the many reasons he fell for her. Even if he was the one on the receiving end this time, the beautiful, raging beast before him was a sight to behold.

Still, that last sentence was worth arguing against. "Would you rather I'd defiled you while you were drunk?"

"No!" Tina blushed, though her posture remained straight and determined. "But what about when I'm sober? What about last night?"

His own blush betrayed him, but he kept his eyes narrow. "Forgive me, sweetheart, if I don't find the idea of sullying a woman's honor after she just accused me of raping her appealing."

That shut her up.

"I don't know what kind of men you've encountered in your lifetime," Alastor said, crossing his arms, "but in my time, a gentleman treated a lady with respect."

The declaration made her heart race, but Tina would not get swept up in his charm. This issue needed to be addressed.

"We're married." She held up her hand, pointing to her ring. "Is your idea of marriage to dress your wife up like a doll and play house? Keep her like some bird in a gilded cage?"

He took a deep breath to calm his growing irritation. "I told you. For your safety—"

"Screw my safety, I'm suffocatin' in this place!" She threw up her arms. "I got no job, nowhere to be, I need to get out! It's a miracle it took me this long to get drunk!"

"Tina," he warned, "as much as I would love to take you out and show you off, we can't have other demons seeing you."

Tina understood that, but there was no way she could go on another couple of decades, or however long her lifespan was, locked up in this fancy house with no company other than her demonic husband and his shadow. She was sure to go mad. Even so, she wasn't keen on running into other demons either. Husk and Niffty seemed harmless, but she imagined with all the terrible people who existed in the world, not all demons were so tame.

Then she had an idea. "What if ya took me back to Earth? Like ya did when I needed pads?"

Surely, that would be allowed. There'd be no other demons to see them.

"That was an emergency." Alastor pressed his fingertips together. "I'm not supposed to be popping up there unless it's for business."

She scowled at the hypocrisy. "So, stalkin' me for months was business?"

"In a sense, yes." He smirked. "I made a deal with you, didn't I?"

"What's the harm in going up there for an hour?" She rested one hand on the table so she could lean towards him. "A minute?"

He tried to ignore how close her face was to his. "It's too much of a risk. If Lilith started noticing my unauthorized visits—"

"Please, Al!" Tina knelt before him. "Just enough for me to get some air! I won't run or try to get away from ya, I promise!"

He stiffened at her sudden change in position. "That's…not what I'm worried about."

Even if she did run, he'd quickly find her, thanks to the blood bond. But he wasn't the only demon who frequented Earth, case in point with all the hellborns who'd flocked to Tina because of her curse. They would certainly attract attention.

She frowned. "Ya said ya'd do anything I asked."

"Not at the risk of some demon discovering our relationship."

"Then take me somewhere that's unlikely to happen!" Her hands flew to his knees. "You got all those powers and shit. Surely, you can find a way. For me?"

The blush on Alastor's cheeks gave Tina pause. Suddenly, she became very aware of her position. Her hands were on his knees, her head close to a certain area. It was her turn to blush. She'd been in this position before when asking for a raise. Not her idea, of course. Still, the method had proven to be effective.

Shame churned in her stomach at what she was about to suggest, but what else could work? This man liked making deals, and he'd been trying to touch her since he brought her here. Perhaps, if she were the one to make the offer, it would be less undignified, and she could preserve her autonomy.

Besides, a part of her was curious about what lay inside those trousers. Was his anatomy the same as an ordinary human male, or was there something…unique under there?

"I-If ya want," Tina said, plastering on the sweetest smile and batting her eyes, "I can…return the favor."

She pulled his knees apart, leaning her head slightly forward. Alastor raised an eyebrow at the action, and the prospect.

"You wish to make another deal with me?"

She nodded. "Take me to the living world for one hour," she said, sliding one hand up his leg, "and I'll do…anything ya want."

"Anything?"

She scooted further between his legs and whispered, "Anything."

Who cared if she was letting another man use her body again? She was already in Hell. At the very least, she trusted Alastor to be gentle. There was no way he could turn down an offer like this. Not with how much he claimed to be enamored with her.

What she didn't count on, however, was Alastor not understanding the meaning behind her position. He'd begged on his knees before Rosie and later Lilith, but he wondered why Tina had slid herself between his legs. It was an odd place for anyone to be.

Then, recalling what Lilith usually had him do, he widened his grin.

Slowly, he raised his hand, resting it on Tina's head. She tensed as he pressed down on her head, her gaze fixated on his pelvis. He didn't look aroused, but maybe it wasn't as obvious with demons. She swallowed the saliva building up in her mouth. God, am I actually looking forward to this?

But instead of bringing her towards his crotch, he lay her head against his inner thigh. She looked up at him in confusion as he petted her like a kitten.

"If I take you to the living world for fresh air," Alastor said, curling his fingers to make a gentle scratch, "would you sing for me, darling?"

Tina straightened up, tearing away from his touch. "Sing?"

"One song." He raised a finger. "One hour up top."

"That…that's it?" She glanced at her proximity to his pelvis and then at him. "Ya want me to sing?"

"Of course." He tilted his head. "What did you think I was going to ask?"

This was more embarrassing than the time her corset had ripped onstage.

"Never mind." She hastened to her feet, stepping away from his open legs and holding out her hand. "We got a deal or not?"

"We do." Instead of shaking her hand, he kissed it. "After you finish your lunch."

Tina rolled her eyes. "You're not gonna let this go, are ya?"

"You'll need your energy if you wish to go outside."

"Fine." She begrudgingly sat back down. "Of all the things ya could ask, though."

"Consider yourself lucky, darling." He beamed. "Millions of beings have sold their souls for less."

"Yeah." She picked up her sandwich. "Fucking lucky."

"Whever you're ready, dear!" Alastor crossed his legs, his foot bouncing as he waited for Tina to start.

She stared down at the ivories, still pristine and untouched.

"Uh…" She balled her hands into fists. "Can I, uh, warm up first? It's been a while."

"Of course! Take your time!"

Again, her hands didn't move any closer to the piano. "Um, can ya play me some scales?"

"Certainly!" Alastor uncrossed his legs, straightening his back and cracking his knuckles. "What's your range?"

She shrugged. "Vocal coach labeled me a contralto, but I can stretch to a mezzo-soprano, if need be."

He played a scale on the third octave. "Is here alright?"

She nodded. He played the scale again and she sang along with a stretched out "ah." Together, they upped the scales, Tina's voice becoming richer and smoother with each one, until she couldn't go any higher.

"Everything sounds intact." Alastor folded his hands on his lap. "I leave it to you now, dear."

He waited, eager to hear her voice again. But still, she did not touch the piano. That's when it hit Alastor that she was stalling.

"Sweetheart, is something stopping you from performing?" his tone was soft, non-accusatory. "I noticed you haven't been in this room since you first arrived."

Admittedly, Alastor was a little hurt that his wife didn't appreciate the music room he'd made for her. He'd really thought this would be the place in which she'd be spending most of her time. Instead, it was the one room on her floor she actively avoided.

"I just," Tina said, hanging her head, "don't feel much like singing."

"Why?" He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're a wonderful singer."

She turned away. "It's dumb."

Catching her chin with his finger, he turned her head to face him. "Try me."

No judgment. That's what he'd promised. Tina sighed, deciding she might as well get this off her chest. Not like she could do this with anyone else.

"I…I sang every night up there, but…I can't remember the last time I actually enjoyed it." She traced the keys with one lone finger. "I mean I used to. While I worked on my comedy routines, I'd sprinkle in some singin' just for fun. But when things got tough and I started workin' at the burlesque… I don't know. At some point it became less fun and more like…more like…"

Alastor scooted closer. "A chore?"

"Yeah. So, I guess…when ya brought me here and I didn't have to sing anymore, I just…didn't find any reason to come here." She scoffed. "You must think I'm pathetic."

"On the contrary, chère, I know exactly how you feel." He glanced at the staff leaning on the side of the piano. "When I began in radio, I lived for the thrill of entertaining others, broadcasting my love for music over the airwaves." And also the suffering screams of his enemies. "But as the decades dragged on, and I played the same old, tired routine, I began losing interest, only performing for my audience rather than myself. And…even then, my audience was growing smaller, more of them drawing to," he paused to grit his teeth, "television."

Suddenly, his revulsion for television made a heap more sense.

"So, like you, I was once caught in a rut, starving for a new kind of entertainment, something to inspire me in a direction I never would've thought to take."

"Did ya ever find it?" she asked.

He gave her a gentle smile. "I found you."

Before she could look away again, Alastor cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"You, Tina, gave this old soul a new purpose." He leaned in so close that his blush was overtaking his vision. "I only hope that one day, I can do the same for you."

A pleasant shiver ran down her spine. Damn, why this guy gotta go and say things like that and confuse the hell outta me?

"I know!" He sprang to his feet. "Why don't I sing first? Will that make you a little less nervous?"

"Huh?" Tina blinked. "Y-You? Sing?"

Suddenly, the room was encased in darkness and a single spotlight shone on the small stage. Alastor stood there, leaning on his staff, his face hidden by a flat straw hat. Tina jumped as the piano started playing on its own. Then she made out Chesterfield's faint silhouette, its dark fingers pressing down on the keys.

Raising his head, Alastor sent her a smug grin. Then, as the melody slowly picked up, he took his staff in both hands and began tapdancing.

"I've got a little baby but she's outta sight," he sang. "I talk to her across the telephone."

Tina's jaw dropped at his singing voice. It was just as old-timey and charming as his speaking voice, but man did it resonate when put to song.

"I've never seen my honey," he continued as he twirled in a slow circle, "but she's mine, alright.
So, take my tip and leave this gal alone."

The spotlight followed him as he danced sideways, revealing a small table holding a red, rotary phone.

"Every single morning, you will hear me yell," he sang, picking up the handset, "'Hey, Central, fix me up along the line!'
He connects me with my honey, then I ring the bell."

Something rang beside Tina. She turned to find a matching telephone on the bench.

Alastor pointed to the new phone, gesturing for her to pick it up. "And this is what I say to baby mine."

Rolling her eyes, but smiling, Tina did as she was asked. His voice cut through the receiver.

"Hello, my baby."

She covered her mouth with a snort, that old cartoon with the singing frog coming to mind as Alastor danced her way.

"Hello, my honey.
Hello, my ragtime gal.
Send me a kiss by wire."

He blew a kiss at her.

"Baby, my heart's on fire!"

He emphasized the line by summoning a heart-shaped flame in his palm.

"If you refuse me," he sang, extinguishing the flame and placing a dramatic palm to his forehead, "honey, you'll lose me."

Crossing his arms, Alastor fell backwards like a dead man, his shadow catching him.

"Then you'll be left alone.
Oh, baby, telephone and tell me I'm your own."

On the last note, he slid forward on his knees with his hat and staff in hand. Tina burst out laughing, clapping at the corny yet adorable display. The lights came back on, and Alastor magicked the hat away as he stood.

"I take it you liked that?" he asked.

She nodded. "You've been holdin' out on me, Mr. Hartfelt. Were you on Broadway or something?"

"Me? Broadway?" Alastor scoffed. "I would've been lucky to be in a minstrel show."

Tina frowned. "Why would anyone wanna be in a minstrel show?"

"Doesn't matter." He shrugged as he resumed his seat at her side. "My time in radio was fame enough for me. Anyway!" He clasped his hands. "Your turn, dearest!"

She had to admit, his little skit had cheered her up a bit. It reminded her that Alastor was as much a fan of the performing arts as she was. Now came the question of what to sing. She mentally skimmed her repertoire of jazz numbers that she was confident enough to play without sheet music. Most of them were associated with Ella Fitzgerald, as they suited her range.

She glanced at Alastor, who had his elbow propped on the side of the piano, his cheek resting on his palm as he patiently waited for her to begin. The pose of childlike wonder was strangely endearing and made her want to smile even more. This man bothers and bewilders me.

Then the right song clicked into place.

Taking a deep breath, Tina settled her fingers on the keys and closed her eyes. Then she played the first few chords. Almost immediately, the familiar music drowned out her fears and worries.

"After one whole quart of brandy,
Like a daisy, I'm awake.
With no Bromo-seltzer handy,
I don't even shake."

She chuckled, remembering her recent drunken episode.

"Men are not a new sensation.
I've done very well, I think.
But this half-pint imitation
Put me on the blink."

Alastor's eyelids drooped and his mouth relaxed soft smile. Every time he heard this woman sing, a peaceful calm would wash over his heart. For her to sing at his request was even more satisfying, now that he was her only audience. Not counting his shadow, of course.

And she eased into it so comfortably. He watched with amazement as she lost herself in the song, her fingers not missing a beat.

"I'm wild again, beguiled again,
A simpering, whimpering child again.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered—am I."

The last time Tina had performed this song, she'd been thinking about Ethan. How that bastard had manipulated her with all his sweet talk and false promises. Especially during the last few verses, which referred to how over time, the spell of love can fizzle out.

But now, as the words reverberated off the walls, someone else's face came to mind. A man who was all sweet talk and promises. However, unlike Ethan, he hadn't pushed her into anything uncomfortable. Well, other than a weird marriage of supernatural convenience, of course.

"Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep
When love came and told me, I shouldn't sleep.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered—am I."

Her fingers trembled slightly against the keys at the memory of last night. The good part, where he'd held her to his chest, whispering words of reassurance. And though it puzzled her that he'd refused her invitation to do more, a part of her appreciated him for not taking advantage. She really had been a mess then. If she'd let anything happen, she might've regretted it later.

"Lost my heart, but what of it?
He is cold, I agree."

She opened her eyes, slowly turning to face Alastor.

"He can laugh, but I love it.
Although the laugh's on me."

There it was, that perpetual look of admiration. If her fingers weren't already set on finishing the song, that look might've frozen her stiff. This was probably the worst song she could've picked, as now he might start to think she was singing about him. But she was too far in to stop now. She needed fresh air.

"I'll sing to him, each spring to him,
And long for the day when I'll cling to him.
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered—am I."

Ella Fitzgerald's version had several more verses, but since this had been recorded after Alastor's death, it was unlikely he would notice. Besides, with his intense gaze on her, Tina didn't think she could go on any further.

Once the last few notes of the piano faded out, Alastor whispered, "Now I almost regret whisking you away to Hell."

She slumped at the ambiguous comment. "Was I that bad?"

He shook his head. "With the heavenly nature of your voice, you would've done well among the angels."

Crap. The racing of her heart and heat in her cheeks could not be denied. She really had been singing about him.

"Th-Thanks." She turned to the hands in her lap. "S-So, uh, can we go up top now?"

"Hmm?"

She furrowed her brow. "You said if I sang for ya, we'd go up top."

"Oh!" He straightened up, having been so wrapped up in Tina's ethereal song that he'd nearly forgotten their deal. "Of course! Where would you like to go, chère?"

"I…don't know." Her cheeks flushed deeper. "I hadn't really thought about it."

She could ask to go back to New York, but there were memories of that place she didn't want to dredge up. She considered Birmingham but was even less prepared to face the memories linked to her hometown.

"Honestly," she said, waving a hand, "we could go to Death Valley for all I care. I just need a change of scenery."

"Hmm." Alastor rubbed his chin. "Do you mind if I select our destination?"

Tina's eyes widened in alarm. "I was kiddin' 'bout Death Valley."

"Oh, darling, why take you to a scorching desert when you're already in Hell? Ha-ha! Now, let's see." A ticking clock emanated from his microphone, shortly followed by a ding as he raised his finger. "Yes! We have a winner!"

"Where?"

Smirking, he swung his legs over the bench. "You'll find out later."

She frowned as he stood and started walking towards the French doors.

"Hey!" She got up and raced after him. "We had a deal! You're supposed to take me to Earth!"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Alastor wagged a finger. "The deal was I take you up there for an hour! I didn't say when that hour would be!"

"What?" Tina dashed in front of him to block his path, her face twisted into a furious scowl. "Ya fuckin' tricked me?!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, sweetheart." He bent down to pinch her cheek. "You'll get your reward soon enough."

She smacked his hand, and he respectfully retracted it.

"The place I have in mind would simply be more ideal at a certain time of day," he explained. "If you wouldn't mind dining al fresco tonight."

Her expression softened. "You…want us to have dinner up there?"

"I think it'd be more romantic, don't you think?"

Fuck, he turned this into a date. Suppose I should've seen that coming.

"Now, if we go up there at 5:30 Hell time, we should be able to catch the sunset." He grinned innocently. "Or are you not willing to wait a few hours?"

Tina rolled her eyes. "Fine. But…don't expect anything to come out of this. I already did what ya wanted today."

"Understood, darling." He patted her head. "See you at 5:30. Be sure to dress for humid weather. Oh, and boots."

She scrunched her nose. "Boots?"

"Yes, boots! Trust me. You'll be needing them."

Before she could inquire further, he kissed her cheek and disappeared into the shadows. She threw back her head in an exasperated sigh.

"I can't with this man."