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Perhaps the problem with dating a sinner was that, in most cases, they were inextricably linked with the time period of their life and their death and some of them refused to acknowledge that time had moved on. What was left was a “living” embodiment of history, a relic of the past. And Alastor was no different. He dressed in zoot suits, he spoke with a transatlantic accent, he refused to have anything to do with television and had personal beef with Vox solely due to their opposing views on technology. Though, it would seem he’d be willing to make an exception -which was the only reason he’d found her out in the first place- if he convinced himself it was the picture show and not simple television. Easy enough she supposed, the time he was from meant that you either got your news on the radio or at the movies. And considering he had a monopoly on the former, there it was.
Charlie could admit she understood, it was a personal thing for him. And hell, plenty of other sinners were enamored with the fact that they could talk with members of the gilded age, it had made a serious comeback in the popular culture every few decades, and Charlie had to agree that the aesthetic was killer. It was definitive. She looked at all the sinners coming in now and she honestly couldn’t tell Vaggie’s time period apart from Cherri’s. Still, she wondered if it got lonely for Al, but of course whenever she asked him he simply replied,
“Darling, I assure you I’m quite fine,” and he’d wave off her concern with a simple explanation that if he ever got homesick he could take a day trip down to Cannibal Colony to lift his spirits. She understood that his previous residence was in the area, though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been down that way herself.
Still, it felt… odd, to not be able to connect with him on that level. Sometimes, he’d take her out to Mimzy’s club for a date, a chance to dance and just have fun. Vaggie was more than happy to manage the hotel in their absence, especially since she was still single after the breakup. Charlie now understood why you didn’t date people you worked with, not that her current relationship acted as evidence she’d taken that lesson to heart. But Alastor had been so charming and sincere, she hadn't been able to stop herself. And so, now they were together, going on dates and she felt like the luckiest demon around. She’d always have fun, but it was obvious every time Mimzy stopped by that the woman would use their shared time period as a way to try and entice Alastor. It never worked, mostly because by his own admission Charlie was the only dame, only person really, to have ever caught his eye in the manner she did. But it certainly didn’t stop the shorter gal from trying, and while Alastor bantered in good humor Charlie couldn’t help but feel a little left out.
Hell had been the only home she’d ever known. Her father had forbade her from going topside for her own safety. But it meant that she’d missed out on so much of human history, despite how long she’d been around. She’d grown up with stories from Stolas, but it wasn’t quite the same as actually experiencing it. And now, all she had were the facsimiles of existence the demons had made for themselves. It was still culture that was vibrant and very much alive, but it just wasn’t the same. It was as she was pondering this in melancholy frustration Alastor stumbled on her.
“What’s wrong Charlie darling?” he asked, putting a hand at her shoulder as he came up behind her, “You know you’re never fully dressed-”
“Without a smile,” she tried to give him one, just because it made him happy but judging from the way that his eyes flickered in response she’d failed. With a sigh, she tried again, “Sorry Al, I guess I’m just not in a smiley mood right now.”
“Whatever for?” he tilted his head to the side, smile shrinking a bit to indicate his concern. She knew he never liked to be seen without one, that he took it as a sign of weakness to display anything but. But she also knew that when he did so, it meant that he was serious about properly conveying whatever emotion he was feeling, and that he was comfortable enough to allow that vulnerability. In this case, it meant that he was truly concerned with what was making her upset and he wanted to help. Too bad this wasn’t a problem he could magically fix, for all his powers.
“It’s nothing really,” she tried to downplay her problems in typical Charlie fashion, even though she knew it wouldn’t work with him, “It’s just… sometimes I think about how you and I are so different,”
“But aren’t we also very much the same?” he countered.
“You… you had a life, before this, before me. And it’s not that fact that bothers me, it’s that it’s from a time and place I can never experience again. And when I see you and Mimzy talking about this and that from your days on earth…” she shrugged, “I don’t know, I just feel like I can’t contribute.”
“My dear, you’ve got enough gumption and spark that were you to dress the part no one would ever mistake you as anything but a swell gal,” he took her chin in hand and turned it to face him, “You’re a real doll darlin’, you know that don’t you?”
“I just wish it was something we could have experienced… together,”
“My dear, as much fun as I had living on earth, I find this world, and its people,” he added pointedly in reference to her, “Much more entertaining. You’re a regular songbird, and we have similar taste. Sure, you wear trousers but I’ll take them over whatever ridiculous getup Angel likes to parade about in.”
Charlie giggled, “Thanks Al,” and this time she was able to smile genuinely, knowing that it really didn’t matter to him what time period they shared, so long as they shared time together. And thankfully, they now had all of eternity to do it if they chose.
His smile turned softer, for just a moment. It was the smile he saved for when they were alone. And then, he placed a kiss on the crown of her head and said, “Dinner at seven?”
“Sounds lovely,” Charlie smiled back. With a wave of his hand Alastor was out the door and she was alone once again. But even though the reassurance had been thoughtful and sorely needed, Charlie couldn’t get the idea out of her head of experiencing life as he’d once known it. And so she marked off in her calendar to pencil in a time to speak with Vaggie. She had a little trip she needed to make.
HH
A few weeks later, Charlie anxiously looked around. She’d cordoned off one of the ballrooms and with a little input from the ladies of Cannibal Colony she had something approximating an old speakeasy. She’d had to focus on her powers a lot more in order to conjure up a bookcase to cover it so that she could really replicate the experience. And then, she looked down at her dress, a little number she’d purchased from Rosie’s Emporium with help from the Madame herself. While also a Hellborn demon Rosie’s sensibilities lined up perfectly with Alastor's, as did her sense of fashion which explained their easy camaraderie that she knew Al didn't have with too many other sinners. So Charlie trusted her implicitly to help her purchase something that Alastor would have seen on his nights about town in the living world. Rosie had tutted at her and insisted on giving her a discount, despite the fact that both women knew Charlie had more than enough money to buy out the whole store ten times over,
“Darling,” she’d purred, “Consider it my thanks to you,”
“Why?” Charlie had asked, not quite understanding what the demoness would possibly be thanking her for.
“Why, Alastor of course,” Rosie had replied, “I’ve haven’t seen him this happy since he went on his broadcasted carnage sprees upon his first arrival.” she raised a brow at the princess, “Despite what he may claim, you do bring out the best in him my dear,” then her expression morphed into one of a stern matronly glare, “Don’t do anything to change that if you can.”
And with that ominous warning Charlie had left to go get things ready. She patted her hair, magically shortened into those wavy curls, one side of her new bob slightly longer than the other. The fabric of the dress Rosie had given her coupled with the tips on how to do her makeup for the occasion made her feel incredibly glamorous, and she definitely understood why Mimzy continued to dress this way. She fiddled with the gold bangles she’d chosen to bring out the gold of her hair and felt the folds of the red material whisper around her legs as she walked across the room. Immediately, she tugged at the golden garter high on her left thigh, though still very much visible under the hem of the skirt. Maybe this was a bit too risque -with its short hem and the backless construction- but she’d done her research, at least someone from Al’s time thought this look was a good one. Besides, this was similar to how Mimzy regularly dressed and this was hell, so it was doubtful she’d really catch any attention were she to go out and about.
The one big difference was that Rosie had given her one with her father’s symbol as a statement, the blood red apple flashing with the gems that made it up. Everything was of the highest quality, and she hoped her beau would realize just how much effort she’d put into this night for them. Her heels clacked against the floor echoing in the cavernous space. She knew Razzle and Dazzle were on standby, waiting for their cue to strike up some southern jazz for musical accompaniment. She sort of wished she could do it now, if only so the music could distract her from being alone with her thoughts. The problem was that when left to her own devices her usually sunny disposition turned a bit more cloudy, especially in regards to herself. What if he didn’t like it, what if he thought it was all silly? What if he couldn’t find the place and she waited here alone like an idiot all night?
She’d left a note on his desk asking him to meet her here for seven this evening. She’d even splurged on venison stew. Not traditional New Orleans soul food, but she wanted to make sure she was catering to him while also being able to eat it herself. It waited in the other room under a dish cover, Charlie hoped she’d get to eat it with him. The princess of hell took a spot at the bar, getting herself a martini for the novelty of it as she tried not to let her hopes and her heart sink. It wasn’t quite seven yet, but Alastor was always early if not punctual. Just as she left a lipstick imprint around the rim she heard the door open. Quickly she set her drink down and tried to calm her nerves. He was the only one who would have known about this, so there was no way it could be anyone else. Charlie heard his heels click against the floor, rhythm of his walking as steady as a heartbeat. Slowly, she turned, peeking at him from over her shoulder, making sure he got a good look at the outfit she’d chosen.
“Charlie?” she heard a slight screech of a lost signal and the pop of static as he really got an eyeful.
The princess batted her eyes at him, turning around slowly to give the full effect of her new outfit, and let the jewels of the garter catch the waning light, “Hi Al,”
Another pop of static, and he realized who she was playing at. The little dame from the picture shows, and boy could she pull it off better than old Betty had. The radio demon said nothing as he strode, closer and closer, until he swept her up in his arms and planted a kiss on her droll little mouth. He wasn’t often the one to initiate physical affection between them, and Charlie relished those rare moments where he did. She moaned lightly into the kiss, feeling the sharpened points of his smile prick her lips and tongue which she clutched desperately to him like he was the last gasp of air in the room. When they finally separate he purred in her ear,
“You do know how to set my blackened blood a-boiling, don’t you darling?” she shivered as the hot breath of words mingled with the sensation of those long claws fingers tickling at the base of her exposed spine. While she tried to give a coherent response, the relief of his arrival and the passion he’d ignited meant that words were for the moment unavailable. Then came his followup, “Now what’s brought all this on?”
Feeling safer than ever in his embrace, Charlie nuzzled closer a moment and answered, “I know you said that only the time we spend together now is what matters. But I still wanted to do something a little… special for you.”
“So you made us a private speakeasy?” he raised a brow and the other flattened, his smile diminished as though he was for once trying to hide his amusement, “My darling demon belle, you never cease to surprise me.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” Charlie chewed on a corner of her lip.
He pulled it between his teeth with a sharp nip before replying, “I’ve never been bored since I met you my dear. That’s more than I can say of anyone else in this cesspit.” then he paused, nose pointed in the air as he sniffed at it, clearly smelling something. His ears twitched a moment like they were listening for something, or someone, “Now what else do you have in store?”
Charlie stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. In an instant Razzle and Dazzle set to work; one bringing out the meal, and the other setting up shop at the piano. Soft sultry notes filled the air, and as the other goat retreated, soon they were accompanied by the sounds of a horn.
“Ah, jazz, how fitting,” Alastor murmured, picking up a spoon and dipping it into the broth, “And venison stew, my darling you really pulled out all the stops, didn’t you?”
“I know it’s not soul food,” Charlie offered, “But-”
But Alastor cut her off, “You got venison for me, that’s more than enough. Though,” he added, “I suppose I could show you a couple of mother’s old recipes and we could make some… changes,” he grinned darkly, and she knew he was enjoying himself, “If you wish,”
Charlie had never been much for cooking. Which was completely explained by the fact that she was the princess and had a ton of servants to cater to her every need. But if he was going to teach her,
“That sounds lovely,” she smiled as she took a bite of her own. The meat was so tender it dissolved on her tongue, and in combination with the vegetables and broth she hummed in delight as she dipped her spoon more and more frequently.
Conversation flowed like liquor, which was also provided to them. Alastor decided to help Charlie’s little goats out and substituted their musical talents for some from his shadow band. That left the butlers free to attend to their mistress and her lover, which meant they wanted for nothing. After they were finished eating, Charlie pulled out a golden case and offered it to him,
“Cigarette?”
“Can’t say I’ve had one in years, especially since you’d consider it a vice around here,” Alastor mused, but it didn't go unnoticed how his eyes continued to return to the case.
“Just don’t tell anyone,” she put a finger to her lips as she winked at him. With a chuckle he obliged and partook, offering one back to her in return
Charlie didn’t smoke, unfortunately, and so she declined, but she did offer to light up his stick instead. The radio demon took a long and hefty drag, letting the smoke smoothly unfurl on the exhale as he spoke. Charlie was mesmerized by the ease in which he fell back into the habit, how simple and elegant he made the action look. It was alluring, seductive without even trying, and Charlie was thankful her cheeks were stained with a permanent blush so it was a bit more difficult to tell when something made her flustered. When he’d had enough Alastor ashed out the cigarette in a conjured tray before disposing of the mess and standing from the table,
“Care to grace me with a dance, princess?” he asked her. Suddenly feeling bashful and shy, Charlie nodded.
Despite the fact that it was only the two of them, Charlie could practically feel them commanding attention from a sea of phantom onlookers. They always gathered a crowd when they put on a show, and it was nice to feel like she was both performing and yet abandoning herself to Alastor’s careful control. He lead, and was perhaps the best she’d ever seen at it. Despite not having any interest in physical carnality -at least before he met her he claimed- he could mold and move her body like it was soft clay, she never felt more wonderfully sore or flexible as she did after dancing with him.
When at last they ran out of breath he still held her tightly. Sometimes, it was hard to know if he was simply enjoying the moment or was plotting something. She would never doubt the latter, every scheme, every plan, every game of his was another element as to why he’d been able to rise to the rank of Overlord so quickly. It had caused quite a bit of problems, both before and after they’d admitted their feelings for one another. And everyone else had often tried to dissuade her, sometimes out of concern for her, and sometimes out of the fact that they were certain he was incapable of loving anyone other than himself. But when Alastor tilted her chin up to meet her gaze and placed a chaste kiss against her lips, she knew his gratitude was sincere. He would never say it aloud, solely because of his own aforementioned sense of pride, but that he allowed any type of vulnerability to be shown was a language in and of itself. And they both knew it.
“Did you like it?” she asked, rather than waiting for him to say anything. While he may not say the words ‘thank you’, how he described his thoughts on the matter would put enough behind it.
“My dear, you brought me home for a wonderful evening,” he sighed, sounding genuinely happy, “Admittedly, I wouldn’t have expected the venison stew on the menu for a true speakeasy. But I suppose some changes need to be made. It takes a skilled hand to recreate true southern soul food,” then he gave her a lopsided grin as he added, “And I suppose asking me would have given the game away, wouldn’t it?”
“I just wanted to surprise you,” Charlie offered, “This was as much a treat for me as it was for you. You,” she sighed, “You know I’ve never left Hell before. Everything I know about the world above comes from those Dad allows to go topside. And this… this was so much fun!”
Her eyes were shining, and Alastor felt the shriveled little husk he called a heart melt within his chest. He laughed, “My darling, if you want I can take you out for a day in Cannibal Colony. Perhaps…” he added with a small wink, “I can even show you my home.”
“Your home?” she gasped, “Really?”
Though an infamous public figure, Alastor was actually a notoriously private person. Despite the fact that they’d been dating for some time -she wasn’t quite sure how long, time in Hell was funny like that- he very rarely disclosed any personal information about himself. His mother, sure, stories about the women often filled conversations when she wanted to know about his past. Or his favorite kills, though he nicely turned down the graphic gorey descriptions of his torture and disposal methods. Or even the culture of his hometown at the time. It was all nice, and it provided a lot of outside context for the demon she saw before her. But it had never told her very much about him, from before. To see his home, it was an unspoken invitation to get to know him as he was now and as he had been before. Charlie had no doubt that he’d decorated it to resemble his home on earth as closely as was possible; and one could tell a lot about a person from how their space made them comfortable.
Alastor’s smile deepened, “Really,” he nodded, “But first,” he immediately changed the subject, tone bright and cheery as always, “I believe it’s time to have some dessert.”
Charlie tilted her head to the side in confusion, “Dessert?” she wasn’t opposed to the idea, but, “Wait, don’t you hate sweet things?”
His eyes glimmered with a hunger she recognized, “I have been known to have exceptions to rules,” he purred, staring at her in a way that clearly meant the dessert he was thinking of wasn’t food. Not for normal people anyways.
Charlie’s face heated as she realized exactly what he meant, “O-oh,” she felt her knees weaken under her own weight.
Ever the gentleman, Alastor scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing, and began striding off, cradling her like some precious treasure. He swept them through the hallways and eventually landed at their shared suite, far removed from the other residents after some pointed and very unnecessary comments from Angel Dust. With a snap of the demon’s fingers the doors opened before them, and he set her on the bed.
“Now my darling,” he began, kneeling while hands wandered down her body, “I believe I’ll start with that apple that’s been tempting me all night,”
Charlie felt her face flush deeper than ever before. Somehow, she knew it was going to be a long night, but more than worth all the trouble.