Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Charlie was proud to say she was not afraid of the dark. It certainly impressed the other seven-year-olds in her class, and her parents always told her how proud they were that she had conquered that fear so young. That she was so brave for sleeping without a night light. 

It was even mostly true. She could sleep in her own room, and could sneak about the manor in the middle of the night without her heart in her throat, but sometimes it still quickened, and if she looked out the windows her breath caught. She was still only seven, after all, and it was a big, scary world beyond the safety of the manor walls. 

It took her time to settle into their New Orleans holiday home. She learned the creaking of the walls and the whispering of the wind, grew accustomed to the way shadows cloaked her temporary bedroom. She kept the curtains open for just that small glimmer of moonlight and buried her head under her blankets to keep from looking outside. 

She didn't say anything to her parents, though, not even when her mom woke her before sunrise to take her on an early-morning walk. They drove for ages with Charlie napping in the backseat, until her mom pulled over and told her they'd arrived. Charlie hugged close to her, but put on a brave face when Lilith led her into the bayou. She protested only a little when directed to stay put for a moment, her plea cut off with a firm, "You're mommy's brave little girl, aren't you?" 

Charlie wanted so badly to be so she nodded and did as asked. She watched her mother disappear into the darkness and waited. 

And waited.

And kept waiting. 

The song of the bayou played around Charlie and her trembling fingers clutched the hem of her shirt tightly as she tried not to imagine glowing eyes creeping closer around her, silent tears streaking her cheeks. 

Finally she could take it no more and with a sob she raced back the way they'd come. 

"Mommy!"

—---------------------

Alastor loved nights like this, when the shadows clung to him like cobwebs and the crescent moon offered just enough light to avoid stepping into the alligator-infested waters. He could see the glint of their eyes watching as he dumped the duffle bag and opened it. They moved closer but didn't creep onto the small finger of land he stood on. They simply waited, and when he threw the first limb into the water they struck, the still bayou turning into churning bodies fighting for meat. 

Alastor threw the next piece, quietly humming as he watched them feed. This was almost the best part, second only to the moment blood welled under his fingers and his victim realized they were about to die. He kept the best cuts to himself, of course, but the gators seemed to appreciate his treats all the same. 

When he finished he loaded the bag with soil before tossing it in, tucked his gloves back into his pocket, and set off with a spring in his step. 

That was when he heard the sob.

Alastor froze, listening carefully. The bayou was full of strange sounds but he had learned them all, knew each creak of wood, the splash of an alligator sliding into the water, the hum of every insect. He slipped into the shadow between the trees and waited, his knife at the ready. They weren't truly deep within the bayou itself; he couldn't risk the noise of a boat. It was plausible someone had followed him. 

What came next was a greater shock: a child, a little girl, stumbling into view. 

No, they weren't deep, but dawn had yet to crack the sky and they weren't near any roads. 

Alastor resisted a sigh and tucked his knife back into its sheath against his thigh and stepped out. 

The girl let out a short scream and fled.

“Wait-” Alastor called, then took off after her. He couldn't see her anymore but he heard her footsteps, another short scream, and the expected splash as she fell into the water. 

And then a more familiar kind of splash.

He ran faster, sliding to a stop at the edge and reaching down to the spluttering child flailing in the murky water. She shied away from him. Alastor could see several pairs of gleaming eyes coming quickly and with a growl he bent further, grasped her by the arm, and hauled her out.

She struggled against his grip but Alastor held fast. He dragged her back from the edge and the reaching jaws of the gators. His feet slid in the mud. By the time he felt they were a reasonable distance he too was covered in muck. 

Annoyed, Alastor stood and, still holding her upper arm, shook the girl. “Be quiet!” he snapped. 

Surprisingly, she obeyed, freezing in place and staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes. She trembled. 

Alastor sighed and pinched between his eyes with his free hand, smearing the corner of his glasses with mud. He took a deep breath before looking at her. “If I let go, do you promise not to run? I'll just let them eat you next time.”

She nodded. 

He released her and she took a step back but didn't bolt. She rubbed where he'd grabbed her and Alastor internally winced. 

He needed to know what she'd seen; he probably should have let her get eaten really, but she was still just a kid. The problem was even if she hadn't seen anything untoward she had seen him. Despite the darkness they were now close enough she could probably give a decent description if asked. 

Not that she would be. He was always careful to cover his tracks and thus far there was no indication anybody suspected his dumping ground. 

“Alright,” he said, crouching down to be closer to her height. “What are you doing all the way out here this time of night?” His voice wasn't unkind, but it was firm.

She sniffed. “My mommy took me for a walk.”

His brow wrinkled. “Out here? Why? Where is she?” 

“I don't know!” She wailed. “We always go on walks early but this time she told me to stay and then she didn't come back!” 

Alastor’s stomach sank and he felt his lip curl in disgust. What sort of woman abandoned her child in an alligator-infested bayou in the middle of the night? 

The kind of woman who had best hope she didn't run into him in the shadows. 

He looked her over. Although soaked through and slick with mud he could tell her clothes were high-end, and she certainly looked well cared-for, which meant she would probably be missed. Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky and Alastor couldn't afford to be seen with a missing child - but then, he couldn't just leave her here. 

“What's your name?”

“Ch-Charlie,” she said, and only now did Alastor realize she was shivering. 

He vacillated another moment before sighing and removing his jacket to wrap around her shoulders. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded, holding the jacket tightly around her. 

“Come on then, let's get you fed and warm, and then we can try to find your mother.” He stood and offered her his hand. Even though he was expecting it, her fingers wrapping around his still sent an unpleasant jolt up his arm. He suppressed a grimace.

They barely made it a hundred yards before she stumbled. Alastor glanced down at her and found fresh tears on her face. 

“My feet hurt and I'm tired,” she said quietly. 

Alastor inhaled deeply, held it for the count of ten, and slowly released it. “Okay,” he said evenly, maintaining a calm smile, because the alternative was a glower. He knelt down again and gestured for her to stand behind him. 

She obediently did so, wrapping her arms around his neck as he scooped her into a piggy-back. His teeth ground together. 

She was asleep before he reached the car. 

—-----------------

Miles away in a suspiciously quiet manor Lucifer woke alone. He sat up and blinked at the empty space beside him. He was accustomed to Lilith’s early morning walks, but the sky was pink with dawn and she was usually back by now with Charlie tucked in to sleep another few hours. 

Maybe that’s where she was; tucking Charlie in. Unconcerned, Lucifer stretched and slid out from under the blankets. He swung his robe around his shoulders and padded down the hallway in bare feet. Even the staff weren’t about yet, at least on their floor; he was sure the kitchen was hard at work making breakfast. He’d asked them to do chocolate chip pancakes for Charlie.

Charlie’s door was cracked when he arrived. Lucifer slowly pushed it open, not wanting to disturb the little ritual his girls performed on walk mornings. To his surprise the room was empty. Charlie’s blankets were still messy, but her pajamas were hanging over the footboard. Lucifer frowned and was turning to check with the staff when a paper caught his eye. Suddenly apprehensive, he approached the bed. 

The letter sat propped up in Charlie’s rubber ducky blanket, his name on it in Lilith’s looping handwriting. Lucifer’s hands shook as he unfolded it and read its contents, and then it slipped from them and drifted to the floor. 

Without stopping to dress Lucifer dashed from the house, screaming his daughter’s name.

Chapter Text

Rosie had never particularly wanted children. It wasn't that she didn't like them per se, just that she knew the world was a dangerous place - she helped make it a dangerous place - and she didn't want to have something so helpless to look after. 

When Alastor showed up with a child in tow she’d been furious. Of course her first thought had been that he'd kidnapped her, and then that he'd broken one of his own rules: no trophies. Especially not living trophies. 

She'd helped him, of course. Rosie could no more have turned the girl out than could Alastor have left her to the alligators. Once Charlie had a bath and some food and was tucked into their spare bed for a nap, the inevitable argument broke out in the kitchen. 

The pair came to several conclusions which led to two solutions. Neither was willing to kill her, which left them with one option: take her in. She was young enough to reshape, and trauma did wonders for bonding. Neither of them were particularly happy with the situation, and neither appreciated having to take an extended holiday, but needs must. 

Now, sitting beside Charlie in the kitchen prepping dinner, Rosie found herself grateful for her friend’s impulsive act of heroism.

 Both women looked up as the front door opened and shut. A grin split Charlie’s face. She dropped her half-peeled potato and ran for the door, meeting the new arrival in the doorway.

 “Alastor!” She exclaimed as she hit him with a hug. He stumbled. “I missed you!”

He dropped his bag and returned the embrace, a soft smile on his face. “I missed you too.”

Rosie stood but did not move across the room. Charlie was the only person who got away with touching Alastor uninvited. Even Rosie was rarely granted a hug, and this was not the sort of occasion to warrant it.

 “How’d it go?” Charlie said, stepping back.

 Alastor’s grin sharpened. “Smoothly.”

 “Did you bring us anything good?” Rosie asked.

 He gestured to the bag. “We’ll be set for a while, and the world is rid of another entitled prick.”

 Charlie frowned.

 “I got you a birthday present,” Alastor said in a singsong voice.

 She immediately lit up. Fifteen years old and she still got as excited for gifts as when she was ten.

 “What is it?” She bounced on her toes.

 Alastor hummed. “I should make you wait for your birthday…”

 “Oh c’mon, Dad, please?”

 Alastor’s gaze met Rosie’s with the same startled pleasure he always wore when she called him that. It wasn’t often, but it softened him up every time.

“Oh, alright,” he said, pulling a small velvet bag from his pocket and placing it in her waiting palms.

 She dumped out a small locket on a thin gold chain.

 “Open it.”

 She did and let out a squeal before throwing her arms around Alastor again. “Thank you thank you thank you! I love it!”

 “Yes, yes,” Alastor said, patiently enduring the embrace. He gave Rosie an exasperated look.

 “Are you going to put it on, dear?” Rosie said.

 Charlie jumped back and held the necklace out to Alastor before turning around and pulling her hair out of the way. Amused, he looped it around and fastened it.

 “Beautiful,” Rosie said warmly. “What’s in it?”

 Charlie held it up. Rosie smiled at the image of the three of them, a photo they’d had taken several years prior when Charlie was still little.

 “Very lovely.”

 “Can I go over to Vaggie’s? I want to show her!”

 Alastor raised an eyebrow and pointedly looked at the abandoned potatoes on the counter. “It’s almost dinner.”

The teenager would not be deterred. “I can be back before it’s ready.”

 “Now Charlie,” Rosie said, “I thought you wanted to cook dinner to welcome Alastor home?”

 She bit her lip. “Alright,” she relented.

 “She’s coming over for your birthday tomorrow anyway, remember?”

 “Yeah…” Charlie said.

 “Come, let’s finish dinner while Alastor gets settled in.”

 ————————

 Once Charlie was in bed Rosie gently knocked on Alastor’s door.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her before leaning one shoulder against the wall. “Our girl is sixteen tomorrow.”

Alastor didn’t glance up from the shirt he was folding. “I’m aware.” 

“Did you think it would be like this?”

“Like what?”

“Loving someone like this.”

He paused. “I didn’t expect to get attached,” he admitted.

“ ‘Attached.’ ”

“You know me,” he hummed, returning to folding.

Rosie remembered his soft smile as he hugged Charlie, the joy in his eyes when she called him ‘dad.’ She snorted. ‘Attached’ indeed.

“Are Husk and Nifty coming?” she asked.

Alastor set aside the shirt and reached for the next. “Nifty yes, Husker might after closing.”

“She’ll be devastated if he doesn’t.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “How she got so attached to that man I’ll never understand.”

Rosie resisted the urge to inform him that he had also grown fond of the bartender, whether he wanted to admit it or not. “It’s not like she has a lot of friends her age.”

“I’m sure she’ll insist on visiting him while we’re out tomorrow.”

“The prohibition may be over but are you sure you should be taking her into bars?”

Alastor waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be with her, she’s fine. Husker won’t serve her anything anyway.”

She hummed in acknowledgment.

They sat in companionable quiet, listening to the soft jazz on Alastor’s radio while he finished unpacking.

Finally she pushed away from the wall. “It’s good to have you home,” she murmured. 

He finally looked up at her and smiled. “It’s good to be home.”

—---------------

Lucifer hated today. 

Each year he hoped it would be different, and each year it hurt a little more. This year even more so: Charlie would be sixteen. It also marked the day Lilith had taken her and vanished. Nine years. Nine years ago today Charlie turned seven and she was stolen from him. Nine years - almost an entire decade - since the woman he loved left a letter saying they would never find their daughter.

Everyone else believed she was dead.

Lilith’s letter had made it clear she didn’t want Charlie, but she didn’t want Lucifer to have her either. She wanted him to hurt, for a slight she hadn’t deigned to clarify. She had taken Charlie and left her somewhere and promised they would never find her. So far, she was right.

Nine years.

Lucifer slumped in his seat and waved at the bartender. The man wordlessly topped off his glass. 

He liked this bar. It wasn’t in the nicest neighborhood, but that’s part of what made it so ideal. As long as he didn’t wear anything too nice, he could drink himself stupid without being bothered. He’d only been mugged twice in the last year and neither incident had been particularly terrible. He was so wasted he barely remembered either encounter anyway. That, and this bar had a reputation for being friendly to all types. It was the only mixed establishment he knew of, and the alcohol was cheap. 

Not that he couldn’t afford it. He could afford it better than anyone here; the so-called Great Depression hadn’t affected him as much as it had others. Cheap booze meant more people and more people meant he went unnoticed, even here where patrons of his own skin color were the minority. 

Lucifer sighed heavily and rested his head on his arm, staring moodily into his glass. The night was just beginning.

“Uncle Husk!”

Such a young voice drew attention and like the rest of the bar’s patrons Lucifer looked up in time to see a young woman jump up on the footrest to lean over the bar. 

He looked again. She looked so much like Charlie would at her age, her light hair pulled back, bright eyes sparkling… Lucifer propped his chin in his hand and watched her talk animatedly with the bartender. The man standing behind her smiling with amusement had darker skin than her and could hardly be her father… but then, she’d called the bartender ‘uncle’ and he was black. Not that it mattered. He’d seen similar adoptions before. As long as a child was in a loving home…

Lucifer downed the rest of his glass and set it down hard. When he glanced back over he found the girl staring at him. He froze. 

Her head tilted slightly, brow creasing in puzzlement as they looked at each other. Then she turned and tugged on the smiling man’s sleeve. He broke off his conversation and glanced down at her, then followed her point to him. 

Lucifer quickly turned back to his empty glass, but not before he saw the Creole man’s smile falter. He said something to the bartender, then ushered the girl toward the door. 

“See you tonight, Husker!” she called over her shoulder. 

The bartender grunted and sidled back toward Lucifer with the bottle. 

“Friends of yours?” Lucifer asked.

“My employer, of sorts, and his daughter,” Husker grunted as he topped off the glass.

Lucifer hummed as he took another sip. “Does he bring her here often?”

Husker chuckled. “Oh no. But it’s her birthday and Charlie is a force to be reckoned with. I’ll leave the bottle.” 

Lucifer barely registered what he said. He yanked a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it on the counter, scrambling toward the door. He wasn’t drunk yet, but he was heavily tipsy and getting up the stairs was more difficult than it should have been. The sun was just beginning to set and in the dying light he saw two figures swiftly walking away from him. 

He stumbled after them. “Wait!”

The man glanced over his shoulder, then picked up his pace. 

“Charlie!”

The girl stopped and turned. The man’s smile tightened. “We can’t leave your guests waiting,” Lucifer heard him say. 

“But-”

Lucifer tripped and went down, hard, and saw stars. He heard the girl - Charlie, it had to be Charlie! - shout, and then everything went dark.

Chapter Text

Alastor stood at the counter, dicing a large cut of muscle while Charlie paced behind him. 

“I should go back and check on him,” she said for the tenth time. “He hit his head, what if he’s hurt-”

Their guests had long since left and Alastor was quickly losing patience. “Stumblebums fall and get back up all the time,” Alastor said. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

“But he didn’t get back up-”

Alastor set down the knife and turned around. “Charlie,” he said firmly, “You’re not going back tonight.”

“But-”

“No, Charlie,” he said, and she stood till, staring at him in surprise. He rarely took such a tone with her. “I don’t like that he chased you. People like that are unpredictable, probably unhinged. Delusional.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, almost offended, as if he could forget that he was the one who taught her. Well, he and Rosie, who sat quietly at the table.

Alastor smiled tightly.

“I think you should avoid the club for a while,” Rosie said.

Charlie looked torn and opened her mouth as though to continue arguing. 

“I can look into his background and see if he fits our criteria,” Alastor offered. 

“No, no! That’s okay!” She raised her hands in surrender. “I just won’t go visit Husk for a bit.”

Alastor’s smile became a little more genuine. “Lovely,” he said, patting her shoulder. “We’re only concerned for your safety.”

She hugged herself. “He looked so familiar.”

Rosie caught Alastor’s eye and raised a brow. 

He turned back to the counter, dismissively flipping one hand in the iar. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve just seen him around the club before. Just another nobody.”

Nobodies and victims, anyway, and this man would be a nobody - or he would become a victim. 

“You're tired, sweetheart,” Rosie said. “You’ve had a long, exciting day! Why don’t you go to bed? We can finish cleaning up.”

Charlie sighed. “Yeah, okay. I just felt like I know him.”

Alastor chopped a little more forcefully than necessary. 

“Charlie, dear,” Rosie said reproachfully. 

“Sorry, Dad,” the girl said.

Alastor’s voice softened, even though he didn’t turn around. “Sleep well, my dear.”

After her door closed Alastor stabbed the knife deep into the cutting block. 

“That’s a good way to blunt it,” Rosie said.

“He’s supposed to be gone,” Alastor growled. 

Rosie hummed. “He lost his daughter, did you really expect him to give up? Would you?”

“I’m different,” he said, hands balling into fists on the counter. “I’m me. I would find her.”

She laughed. “Alastor, he’s her father.”

“I’m her father, and he won’t take her away from me.” He spun around, eyes glinting and a feral smile on his face. “If he knows what’s good for him he’ll fuck. Off.”

“She’d never forgive you.”

“She wouldn’t have to know.”

Rosie sighed and stood, stopping right in front of him with a sympathetic smile. “I don’t want to lose her either, but remember, these things have a way of coming out. Find a way to control the narrative.” She patted his shoulder, much as he’d done with Charlie, and ignored his eye-twitch. “Goodnight.”

Alastor watched her go, then returned to his food prep with a snarl. 

—-------

Lucifer’s head throbbed.

He’d been woken in the early hours by a bucket of cold water and an officer frowning down at him. “Get up an’ go home before I arrest ya,” he said before lumbering away without giving him the chance to move. Lucifer had somehow managed to drag himself home and into bed, and woken with the headache from hell. 

He wondered if he should see a doctor, but then he’d have to explain-

He should call the police. He still had that detective’s number somewhere - they could investigate, find out if it really was her. He hesitated, though; what if he was wrong? While he might not care what color someone’s skin was, he wasn’t naive. He knew what could happen if the police marched in on a  mixed family. Given his affluence and the fact when was a white girl, there was even the possibility they would go in guns blazing and what then? Somebody might get hurt only to find out she wasn’t his Charlie and then he’d have an orphan on his hands. 

No, better to be absolutely certain before he involved law enforcement. Maybe he wouldn’t need to call them at all - maybe she could just come home. 

But where to start? He’d only caught a glimpse of her in a dim club after a couple drinks. She was still a minor and unlikely to frequent such an establishment. Her guardian, on the other hand… or maybe the bartender could help. He knew them, and he’d said the man was his boss. 

It was a start. 

…A start that had him standing outside the Hellfire club right at opening. 

The familiar bartender paused upon seeing him standing there, looking for a moment like he wanted to flee. Instead he grit his teeth and walked past Lucifer to unlock the door. “We don’t open for another hour,” he said gruffly without looking at him. 

“I can wait.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Lucifer shrugged and leaned on his cane. 

The man sighed, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “You’re not gonna leave, are you.”

Lucifer just smiled. 

Broad shoulders slumped and he pushed the door open, beckoning his guest inside. “I ain’t servin’ ya until open,” he warned.

“Much obliged,” he said as he passed him, then offered his hand. “Lucifer Magne.”

“I know who ya are,” the man growled, then muttered something that sounded like ‘ya butter an’ egg man,’ which Lucifer politely ignored. The man accepted the handshake. “Husker.”

“Pleasure,” Lucifer said as he sat at the end of the club and pulled out a newspaper to wait.

—------------

The unique scent of blood always soothed Alastor when he was most vexed. Its silky texture between his fingers, the iron taste of it on his tongue, the way his victims struggled in their last moments… Sometimes he liked to lean down and lick the blood straight from the wound, just to see how they’d react. Often it resulted in a futile renewed struggle. Funny, how the idea of being eaten was so much more terrible than simply dying. Alastor didn’t understand it; one was dead either way. Why let the meat go to waste?

The man currently gurgling under him was one of those. The moment Alastor had dipped his fingers into the man’s abdomen and brought the blood to his mouth his eyes had gone wide and he’d started thrashing. Pathetically, Alastor might add, but it was no less entertaining to watch him try. Alastor was taking his time with this one, letting the blood loss to most of the work for him. 

“What’d this one do?” 

Alastor glanced at his companion with a raised brow. “Does it matter?”

Husker shrugged. “Not really. Just can’t help but notice he looks like-”

Alastor fixed Husker with a sharp smile and the man faltered. “Looks like what, Husker?”

He looked away. “Nothin’,” he mumbled, bending down to retrieve the butchering tools from their bag.

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed, licking his fingers again. The man was still breathing, chest rising in short, staccato gasps, though his eyes had glazed over. Alastor gently brushed golden hair back; he wanted to watch what little life remained go out of his eyes. Husker’s observation squirmed in his gut. It interrupted the catharsis, put a stain on an otherwise pleasant kill. Their ‘victim’ had been a typical upper-class bad egg, taking advantage of his employees’ desperation and refusing to pay them fairly - fully knowing they couldn’t afford to quit. Most of them were still starving.

If he looked shockingly similar to the current source of Alastor’s vexation, that was his own business and Husker would keep his mouth shut if he knew what was good for him. 

They worked in silence. It wasn’t until they’d loaded both carpet bags into the back of the car and prepared to go their separate ways that Husker spoke again. “He’s at the Hellfire every night.”

Alastor froze. “Who is?” he said, feigning nonchalance that Husker saw through immediately.

“Lord Magne. He’s come every night for the last month.” 

“Sounds like the man needs a hospital,” Alastor hummed. 

“He doesn’t drink much anymore,” Husker said without looking directly at him. “He’s just waiting.”

“Whatever for?” He knew the answer. 

“You.”

Alastor took a deep, measured breath, and slowly let it out. He smiled. “Well,” he said, “it would be rude to keep him in suspense.”

Chapter Text

“Charlie, dollface, sit down,” Angel said.

“I can’t,” she said, pacing in front of her friend, who currently lounged on the grassy hillside like it was the world’s most opulent sofa. “Something’s changed and I don’t know what it is!”

“Lotsa things are changin’, toots, and none of ‘em for the better. It’s the great depression, and I hear a war’s brewin’. Maybe it’s finally catchin’ up to ya ol’ man.” Angel took a swig of the iced tea he’d splurged on.

“The radio show’s fine, I think. He would have said,” she waved a hand, “and Mimsey’s been by to pay Rosie so it’s not like we’re behind.” She chewed on her lip and finally dropped down next to her friend. “I don’t know, it feels like it all started on my birthday.”

Angel raised a brow. “Your birthday?”

“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed, frustration clear in her voice. “When that man chased us out of Husker’s club!”

“A man did what now?” Angel sat up, giving Charlie his full attention.

“There was this guy inside, sitting at the bar, when we went in. He was staring at me and I… well, he was familiar, so I pointed him out to Alastor, and Alastor freaked. Rushed us out, didn’t even let Husker get me my black cow - which was half the reason we went in! - and then the guy followed us out and he called me by name.”

Angel stared at her. “And Alastor didn’t clock him?”

“He probably would have, but the guy fell and hit his head. Didn’t get back up,” she said miserably. “Al wouldn’t let me go help him. I asked Husk later and he said the street was clear when the club closed so… he must be okay, right?”

“And Al has been weird since then?” Angel sipped his drink.

“Yes! Him and Rosie, and neither of them will tell me what’s wrong! Rosie at least usually keeps me in the loop.”

They were quiet for a moment, simply watching the other park-goers while Angel processed this. “What’s Smiles done that’s so weird?”

“Well he-” Charlie paused. “He got home from a hunting trip the day before my birthday, right? And he usually only goes every couple months. But he went again yesterday. He didn’t even need to.”

Angel snorted. “What, killin’ make him feel better?”

Charlie shrugged. She couldn’t exactly say that yes, it did, especially when it was extra bloody and his prey fought back. “He’s extra protective of me too. Like, overbearing. I’m not even allowed to visit Husker at the Hellfire anymore.”

“That serious, huh?” Angel leaned back on one hand. “Maybe he knows more about this guy than he’s lettin’ on, cuz he doesn’t want to scare ya.”

Charlie blinked at him. “He knows I can take care of myself.”

Angel shrugged. “He’s your dad. Sometimes he’s gotta do what he can even if he knows you’ll be okay.”

“I guess.” Charlie sighed and picked at the grass. “I just wish he’d tell me why.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Yes, and he almost broke the cutting board.”

Angel laughed. “Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Alastor’s a weird guy. It’ll blow over.”

“I hope so,” Charlie murmured. “I just want things to go back to normal.”

“I can’t help ya with that,” Angel said, sitting up again, “but we can go get Vaggie and the three of us can pop down to the diner for a hound on an island and share a milkshake.”

Charlie smiled, mood immediately lifted by the offer. “That sounds great.”

Her friend pushed himself up, brushed the grass from his pants, and stuck out a hand to help her up. “C’mon then, I got work at 8.”

—----------

Somehow Lucifer had managed to arrange his schedule to make it to the club every night. He didn’t make a habit of scheduling late night meetings and for the most part he didn’t have to do much to participate in the running of the business - he paid people for that - but he still liked to oversee certain things and make sure none of his people were abusing the positions he gave them. He would be making a trip to Baton Rouge to oversee a factory takeover; he wanted to adjust some working conditions and assure the current employees there they would not be losing their jobs.

He was not looking forward to being absent from New Orleans, but he still had a business to run and if he hadn’t run into the man again by then he was unlikely to do so. No reason to despair yet; he still had some time.

And yet, as the door opened and Lucifer glanced up, it seemed fate chose that moment to take his side.

A tall form moved across the club, confident and imposing. Nobody looked directly at him, but it was clear everybody was acutely aware of him. Maybe because he was freakishly tall, which Lucifer hadn’t really noticed the last time he saw him.

He quickly turned his face to his drink, but watched him approach Husker from the corner of his eye. The men spoke too quietly for him to hear over the general din of the club, and the tall man leaned against a clubstool, someplace halfway between sitting and standing. One leg was propped up on the footrest.

Lucifer’s heart raced. He’d been waiting for this moment, coming here day after day for over a month now, just to talk to this man. He’d planned out what he wanted to say, how the conversation would go, but now that it was time his mind had gone blank. This had to be perfect. He couldn’t risk the man taking Charlie and leaving - or reporting him as some sort of stalker to the police. Husker would probably testify against him, and any patron of the club could vouch that he’d been here every day.

The man was more imposing than Lucifer remembered. He’d been more focused on Charlie last time, but now that he looked closer… he carried himself with complete confidence, looked around himself with casual disinterest - and yet Lucifer suspected he noticed everything and logged it away.

He swallowed nervously as the man took a sip of whatever whisky Husker had poured him and murmured something to the bartender, who grumbled a short response.

Steeling himself, Lucifer threw back the rest of his glass and determinedly approached. “Let me buy you a drink?” he asked, trying to lead with manners and not accusation.

The man slowly turned and looked him up and down, and good god he had to be nearly seven feet. The man raised an eyebrow, apparently completely unimpressed by what he saw, and Lucifer flushed. “Hmm, I think not,” he hummed with a condescending smile. He finished his drink and stood to leave.

Lucifer flushed. The man made it a couple steps toward the door before he managed to find his voice again. “I want to see Charlie.”

The man froze. “What did you say?” His voice was low enough Lucifer almost didn’t catch it.

“Charlie,” he said, “my daughter.”

Next to him Husker slowly inched away, but the man turned and pinned him in place with a cold stare. Then his eyes flicked to Lucifer. He returned to the bar but did not sit, instead looming over him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Pray tell, how do you know my daughter?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. “I can recognize my own child, even if it’s been nearly a decade since you kidnapped her.”

“I did no such thing,” the man said smoothly, “though I wonder what your intentions are, if you’ve been staking out a club to see her again.”

He knew Lucifer had been here regularly, then.

“I was waiting for you, actually,” Lucifer sniffed.

“What led you to believe I would come back?”

Lucifer nodded to Husker, who was trying and failing to casually scrub a glass. “He said you’re his boss. Of course you’d come back eventually.”

The tall man’s smile sharpened as he looked at the bartender. “Did he now,” he said, almost sweetly, and a chill went down Lucifer’s spine. There was something in the man’s face, in the set of his shoulders, in the gleam of his eyes, that made Lucifer suddenly question the wisdom of being here. Husker had warned him away multiple times, had seemed almost nervous. Now, watching this interaction, and the sweat beading on the bartender's forehead even though he deliberately didn’t look up, Lucifer felt like he might be in genuine danger. This man was a predator.

He’d come too far to be cowed now. He lifted his chin. “I want to know how you came to have her, and I want her back.”

The man’s gaze shifted back to him. “She’s mine,” he purred, that dangerous glint now pinning Lucifer in place as he leaned down to murmur directly in his ear, “and if I catch you anywhere near my daughter, Lucifer, I will cut out your liver and make you eat it.” When he stood upright he once again wore an easy smile. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but I’d be lying. Husker, I expect you at the house tonight.”

“Yes sir,” Husker grunted.

The man strode from the club, leaving Lucifer pale and trembling at the bar.

“I warned you,” Husker said.

Lucifer swallowed. Know thine enemy. “He never introduced himself.”

“That is Alastor Hartfelt.”

Chapter Text

It had been a long night and Alastor had been exhausted when he finally went to bed. It felt good to be home, in his own bed, another successful hunt over. He always slept best on nights like tonight, where he was so tired a hurricane wouldn’t wake him. 

Except this particular night, apparently, because something moving in the hallway dragged Alastor from his dreams into semi-consciousness. His bedroom door creaked open and he tensed, his hand curling around the knife under his pillow. He cracked one eye open. A small figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. He relaxed, releasing the knife and sitting up. 

“Dad…?” Charlie whispered. 

Alastor blinked, still trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. “Charlie? What time is it?”

She took this as an invitation and crept further into the room. “I had a nightmare.”

Alastor squinted at her. “And?”

She sniffled. “Can I come sleep with you?”

He opened his mouth to say hell no but paused, finally awake enough to catch up with the conversation. 

She'd called him dad.

“Okay,” he found himself saying, scooting back on the mattress and holding open the blanket. She quickly crawled in and snuggled against his side. Alastor tensed, lip curling in a slight grimace, but once she settled, it… wasn't as unpleasant as he'd have expected. 

“Thanks Alastor,” she mumbled sleepily.

He rested a hand on her back and said nothing. 

“Alastor,” Rosie said, tapping the table next to him. “Alastor!”

He blinked and looked at her. “What?”

She laughed. “You’ve been spaced out with this silly little smile. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

He considered brushing her off, but as she leaned her elbows on the table, chin resting on folded hands, he said, “I was recalling the first time Charlie called me dad.”

She hummed, her eyes sparkling. “I remember that morning.”

Alastor laughed. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you as panicked as you were when you burst into my room, and that includes when that hunter almost shot me.”

“Well her window was open and she was gone! I thought someone took her. I never imagined she’d have crawled into bed with you,” she chuckled, “or that you’d let her. You were so embarrassed.”

He rolled his eyes, but the soft smile still played at his mouth. “Yes, well. You would have been too if your housemate burst in on you first thing in the morning and you nearly fell out of bed.” The only reason he hadn’t was because Charlie had been on one of his arms and she was just enough weight he was able to catch himself before dragging her to the floor with him. It had been a rude awakening for both of them.

“You were ever so pleased, though,” Rosie said, gazing at him with a sort of affection that always prickled along his skin. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he always felt as if he didn’t deserve it. “Not that you would admit it.”

He let out an amused snort but didn’t argue. 

“What brought on the nostalgia?” 

He sighed and sat back. “Husker didn’t lie; he was at the club.”

Immediately Rosie grew serious. “What happened?”

“He asked to buy me a drink.”

An eyebrow went up. “And?”

“And I said no, of course,” Alastor said, “but then he said he wanted to see Charlie. He accused me of kidnapping her.”

“Well, my dear, we kind of did.”

“No,” he growled, “I found her after her sorry excuse of a mother abandoned her.”

“And then we hid her until the press died down,” she reminded him. “There was a manhunt, if you recall. We could have given her back.”

“She was a witness, Rosie. People would have asked questions, things would have been found.”

She shrugged. “Do you regret it?”

Alastor leveled her with a flat smile. “Of course not! I’m insulted you would even ask.”

“Good. I don’t regret keeping her either. Now, what did you say to Mr. Lucifer Magne?”

He scowled. “I told him not to come near her.”

“And that’s why you’re up this late? Doesn’t sound like a particularly excitable conversation, since I assume you didn’t kill him.”

“Husker will be here soon,” he said, waving a hand in annoyance. He didn’t mention that the poor fool butchered and neatly packaged in their cellar freezer had been nearly identical to ‘Mr. Lucifer Magne’.

Freezers… What a wonderful invention.

“Husker? Why?”

“Because he told Magne I’m his boss,” Alastor snarled. “He told him, and then Magne waited every day for a month for me to come back.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastor smiled, sharp and dangerous, deadly calm. “Husker’s going to have to learn not to mess with me.”

Rosie sighed. “Don’t hurt the man.” 

“We’ll see.” 

Someone knocked on the front door and they fell silent, turning toward the hallway. Rosie stood.

“Charlie would be devastated,” she said, then went to let Husker in.

He entered timidly, eyes flicking around the room like a caged animal. His gaze landed on the pair of knives neatly laid on the table and he froze.

“Sit,” Alastor said, indicating the seat opposite him.

“Look, Alastor, I-”

“Sit.”

He did. 

Alastor leaned over the table, a full head taller than the man even sitting down. He still smiled, eyes narrowed. “You are very lucky he has yet to contact the police,” he said in a low voice, “and that you haven’t told Charlie he keeps coming to the club.”

“I haven’t-”

“The only reason I am not skinning you and feeding you to the gators is because my daughter cares too much about you, and the situation is still salvageable. If you ever interfere again, if you put her at risk, I’ll make sure you’re still breathing when you go into the water.”

Husker nodded, eyes wide. “Understood,” he said. 

Alastor sat back, still smiling. “Lovely. Now, if Magne continues to stake out the club, you will let me know and I will deal with it.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Now go home before I change my mind.”

Husker didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled for the door, slamming it behind him without another word. Alastor leaned back in his chair, musing. Somehow, he didn’t think Lucifer would give up, and he would need to be handled. 

The question was how.

—--------------

Alastor had a ritual. Every Friday morning he would go to breakfast at a little cafe a block from the house. He ordered one coffee, black, and two fried eggs with a side of bacon and read the day’s paper as he ate. He worked on his segments for the upcoming week, took note of who he should interview, and kept an eye out for any potential victims.

It was one of his favorite activities. A little peace and quiet to unwind from the week. Was that too much to ask for?

Apparently so.

A shadow passed over him as a man slid into the booth opposite him. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Alastor stiffened but otherwise ignored his unwelcome guest.

“Ignoring me, are we?” Lucifer waved his hand between Alastor’s face and his paper. “Hellooo, are your ears working?”

“My ears work perfectly well, thank you,” Alastor said coldly, turning the page. “What are you doing.”

From his periphery Alastor saw Lucifer lean back and stretch his arms above his head. “I was on a morning stroll when I found myself hungry.”

Alastor hummed skeptically.

“What? I am!”

“Then go find a table and eat.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like eating alone.”

Eye twitching, Alastor finally lowered his paper to level the man opposite with a flat look. “What do you want?”

Lucifer huffed and sat back. “I want my daughter back.”

“I haven’t the foggiest who you mean.” Alastor sipped his coffee without breaking eye contact.

Before Lucifer could respond, the waitress arrived. 

“How is everything?” she asked Alastor as she set down a glass of water and topped off his coffee.

“Excellent as usual, my dear,” he said with an easy smile.

She turned to Lucifer. “Can I get you anything?”

He beamed up at her. “Yes, please! I’ll have a hot chocolate and some pancakes.”

She promised it would be out soon, cleared Alastor’s empty plate, and vanished into the kitchen. 

As soon as she was out of earshot Lucifer leaned over the table and furiously hissed, “Don’t play dumb. It’s insulting, and you wouldn’t be so threatened by me if she truly was your daughter.”

“Charlie is my daughter,” Alastor said. “My adopted daughter.”

“You can’t just-”

“No,” Alastor said firmly, voice low enough the other tables wouldn’t overhear, “you can’t just waltz into our lives and try to take the child we’ve spent the last nine years raising away from us. I’m the one who paid for her schooling, fed her, clothed her, read to her at night, scared away the monsters in her closet. Rosie and I raised a child abandoned in the bayou and you cannot have her.”

Lucifer blinked at him, what little blood colored his already pale face draining away. “Th- the bayou?”

Alastor grinned nastily at him. “You didn’t even know where she left her? How pathetic.”

Just as suddenly as Lucifer paled, he flushed bright red. “How dare you-”

Alastor scoffed and sipped his coffee again, smiling blandly up at the waitress as she returned with Lucifer’s drink. 

“Your food will be right out,” she assured him before moving on to her next table.

His bluster interrupted, Lucifer stared moodily into his cocoa as he stirred in the whipped cream on top. Emotions warred over his remarkably expressive face before resigned grief took hold. His shoulders slumped. “Is she happy? With you and your wife?”

“Of course,” Alastor said. “We have given her every opportunity afforded to those of our class, and Rosie has adored her since day one.”

Lucifer peeked up at him. “And… loved?”

“What a stupid question.” Alastor took another sip of his coffee. “Of course she is. Or do you think I would withhold her out of spite?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

Alastor let out a short laugh, then decided to throw the man a bone. He clearly still cared for Charlie, and that was something they had in common. He leaned his elbows on the table and waited until Lucifer met his gaze. “Charlie is very well cared for,” he said earnestly.

Something like relief flickered in Lucifer’s eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, looking back at the table for a moment before glancing up again. “There’s nothing I can do to convince you to let me see her? I wouldn’t have to tell her I’m her father, I could just-”

But Alastor was already shaking his head, his moment of good will gone. “No. She’s too smart for that. What I said still stands; stay away from her, or you will regret it.” He downed the rest of his coffee and stood, opening his wallet. 

“No, let me cover it,” Lucifer said. “I still owe you that drink.”

Alastor dropped a few bills on the table, glaring at the man. “No, thank you,” he said, then strode from the cafe without looking back.

Chapter Text

Alastor ran into Lucifer again at the supermarket. It was sheer luck that Alastor was alone that day; Charlie or Rosie usually came with him. It was how they spent time together as a family, and occasionally how they would pick their next target. Charlie had an eye for the bad ones; often she wanted to help them, but when Alastor said ‘go’ she went.

Lucifer was lucky she wasn’t there.

“What are you doing here?” Alastor growled as Lucifer casually came up beside him.

“Shopping for dinner?” he said, holding up a basket.

Alastor eyed the basket. It held three cans of beans, a loaf of bread, and a pair of oranges. He hummed skeptically.

Lucifer flushed. “What?”

“If you don’t have people for that, you should.” Alastor turned back to the selection of spices before him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Alastor shrugged and dropped what he needed for his jambalaya into his own basket. “Only, if you always eat like that its no wonder you’re so small.”

Lucifer spluttered. “Not all of us can be freakishly tall like you!”

Alastor laughed and moved away, but the other man followed.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not,” Lucifer lied. “I just looked over and saw you and wanted to say hi.”

“You haven’t said hi.”

“Well that’s because you growled at me!”

Alastor merely maintained his annoyed smile and examined a carton of eggs.

“Helloooo?” Lucifer said, scowling.

“There!” Alastor said in a chipper voice. “You’ve said hi! Good day.” He looked at the price, grimaced, and returned the eggs to the shelf. He didn’t even bother looking at the meats; there was a reason he hunted for his own.

Well, it was one of the reasons, anyway.

Lucifer glanced between him and the eggs with a frown.

Alastor quickly turned away and strode down the aisle.

“Hey!” Lucifer ran to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“The checkout, and then home.”

“Would you like to grab a drink?”

Alastor stopped abruptly and Lucifer ran into him. He stumbled backwards as Alastor spun on him.

“What? Why?”

“Um,” Lucifer blinked up at him. “Just because?”

Lip curling, Alastor once again turned away and stalked toward the storefront. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he sneered.

Lucifer kept pace with him. “I’ll buy.”

“Money is not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You.”

At this Lucifer finally faltered. He quickly bounced back, cutting in front of Alastor in line. “I owe you a drink.”

“No, you don’t, stop saying that.”

Lucifer smiled as the cashier rang him out, then stood to the side to wait. Alastor presented his coupons, counted out his change, and gathered his groceries. The pair walked out together, to Alastor’s great annoyance, and LUcifer watched him tuck the bag into his back seat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Alastor said, getting into the car and driving away without another word.

It wasn’t until he got home that he noticed the carton of eggs sitting on his passenger seat. He stared at them for a long moment, briefly considering tossing them out of spite.

Bastard, he thought savagely, then took the eggs inside.

—----

The next time he saw Lucifer, Alastor was finishing an interview with an assembly line worker who claimed their manager had cut all their wages and was taking the rest. Certainly an interesting report, and one he couldn’t wait to air. It gave him another name for The List, too.

He spotted the blond hair exiting a cab and Alastor spun around to head the opposite direction.

Too late.

“Alastor!”

He walked faster.

“Hey, slow down! Wait!”

Alastor grit his teeth, looking for somewhere to duck out of the way.

A hand wrapped around his wrist and Alastor ripped himself free, turning with a wide smile bordering on a snarl. “Do not touch me.”

Lucifer stumbled back a step, either from surprise or the force of Alastor’s reaction, Alastor did not know or care.

“Sorry,” he said, raising his hands placatingly. “I was just trying to get your attention.”

“You have it,” Alastor purred, eyes narrowing. “What do you want?”

Lucifer paused, suddenly unsure and searching for something to say. “Are you on your way home?”

“I was, but not if you’re going to follow me.”

“I’m not following you,” Lucifer said defensively.

Alastor hummed. “I doubt that.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what a coincidence this is.”

“Well, yeah,” Lucifer said.

Alastor said nothing, just smiled pointedly down at the man, watching him squirm.

“If you haven’t got any plans for the night-”

“No.” Alastor resumed walking.

“No you don’t have plans?” Lucifer asked hopefully, keeping pace.

“No to whatever you’re going to ask me.”

“But you haven’t even heard me out!”

“You’re going to ask me for a drink, and I’m going to say no, and then you’re going to tell me ‘I owe you one’ and I’m going to tell you to get lost.” Alastor stopped and faced Lucifer again, bending at the waist to speak directly to the man in a gravelly voice. “So fuck. Off.”

Lucifer’s golden eyes widened a fraction and Alastor couldn’t help but briefly imagine how good the honey color would look against bloodshot sclera as he strangled him. Lucifer swallowed, quickly bringing Alastor out of his brief daydream. “Well, I do,” he said quietly, “for taking care of Charlie if nothing else.”

I owe you for giving her to me,” Alastor thought, but only rolled his eyes as he stood upright again. “How sentimental! You are testing my patience, and my good will only runs so far.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve found a new recipe for liver and I’m just dying to try it.” His smile widened as Lucifer paled. Turning to leave, Alastor said, “Ta ta, good chap, you should hope I won’t catch you later.”

This time Lucifer wisely let him go.

—----

It seemed Alastor would not be escaping Lucifer that easily. Either he was losing his touch, or the man had absolutely no sense of self preservation. But then, Rosie was usually right; if Alastor was in Lucifer’s shoes, he wouldn’t give up either.

“Are you following me again?”

“Of course not,” Lucifer said, struggling to keep up with Alastor’s longer strides.

“You went to the club every night to try to see me,” Alastor pointed out.

Lucifer smiled unashamedly. “Fair.”

“Can you stop?”

“Nope!” Lucifer said, far too chipper.

Alastor growled and stopped, grabbing Lucifer’s arm and yanking him to a halt as well. “Why.”

Lucifer gaped up at him. “You have my daughter,” he said slowly, as if Alastor were thick. “I need to make sure she’s safe.”

“I’ve already told you to stay away from her,” he said, boice low enough that the people walking around them wouldn’t hear. “Do you think I didn’t mean it?”

Lucifer grimaced. “I’m not asking to see her, I’m asking to get to know you.”

Alastor blinked. “Why?” he asked, and this time it was genuine bewilderment.

Lucifer raised a brow. “...Are you going to make me repeat myself?”

Heat rose in Alastor’s face. “You are infuriating.”

“And persistent!” Lucifer grinned. “Can you let go of my arm please?”

Realizing just how tightly he was holding him, Alastor released the smaller man and stepped back. Lucifer rubbed the spot.

“It’s going to bruise,” he muttered.

Alastor scoffed and looked away.

“I’m serious about that drink,” Lucifer said.

“So you’ve made clear,” Alastor said dryly. He considered him for a long time before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he said begrudgingly, “but we’re not going to the Hellfire.”

“Don’t you own the Hellfire? Wouldn’t you want to go to your own establishment?”

A blink, and then Alastor was laughing. “Of course not!” he cackled.

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. “But Husker said-”

“Husker,” Alastor said sharply, all mirth gone and a sharp smile on his face, “should not be saying anything about the services for which I employ him.”

Lucifer stared at him, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to get him in trouble.”

Alastor hummed, clasping his hands behind his back. “Actions have consequences, and he knows them.”

“What does that even mean?”

“We can meet tomorrow night at seven at the jazz club by the radio station. You know the one?”

Lucifer’s face scrunched at the sudden topic change, but he nodded. “Sidewinder?”

“Yes,” Alastor said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”

“Oh,” Lucifer said.

“Not all of us are wealthy enough to glide through the recession,” Alastor said flatly, and Lucifer flushed.

“That’s not-”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Alastor said snidely, walking away and leaving Lucifer spluttering behind him. He almost expected to be followed, but he either lost him in the crowded street or the irritating man finally got the hint.

—-----------

Charlie sat at the bar, kicking her feet and humming while Husker mixed her a drink. She’d asked for something fruity and he’d frowned, muttered something about Alastor, then slouched off. She knew there wouldn’t be any real liquor in it, but it was fun to pretend.

“Who’re you waiting for?”

“Customers,” he said gruffly, plunking Charlie’s drink in front of her.

“Mhmm,” she sipped her drink. “This is really good! But you keep looking at the door. You look nervous.” She flashed a wicked grin at him. “Is Angel keeping you up at night?”

”No,” Husker said a little too quickly, scowling at her, “unless you mean by being a menace. He’s gonna drive away all my best customers.”

Charlie smiled around her straw, eyes twinkling. “Maybe he just wants you all to himself.”

Husker pointed at her, looking as though he was about to say something cutting, but instead asked, “Does Alastor know you’re here?”

She flushed.

“I didn’t think so.” He swiped a pair of abandoned glasses and added them to the box of dirty dishes for the busboy. “If he catches you here we’re both in trouble.”

“He’s working late tonight.”

Husker looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Working working?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Just normal work.”

The bartender sighed with relief. “And Rosie’s not gonna tell him you were out late?”

“She’s on a date.” Charlie took a long drink.

Husker made a face. “I’ll never understand that woman.”

“She’s gotta make a living somehow.”

“Doesn’t that break Al’s ‘rules?’”

Charlie shrugged. “She only targets people who fit our criteria anyway. At least they usually survive their encounter with her.”

“Hmph.” Husker glanced at the door again.

“Okay,” Charlie said, frowning, “you’re definitely watching for someone. Are you in trouble? Should I have Al-”

“No!” Husker said loudly, then grimaced at the annoyed looks several nearby patrons gave him. He lowered his voice. “Alastor already knows and I don’t want him to get any more involved.”

“So there is something!” Charlie crowed in triumph.

“Ah shit,” Husker muttered. “Just go home, Charlie, please?”

She sipped obnoxiously loudly on her drink, staring expectantly at the bartender, who rubbed his temples and cursed under his breath.

“If Alastor finds out you were here, or that I told you any of this, he’ll skin me alive.”

“No he won’t,” Charlie scoffed, “you’re family.”

He just stared morosely at her and Charlie’s grin slowly faded.

“It’s really that serious?”

Husker nodded.

Her stomach knotted. “Like… law-enforcement serious?”

“Could be,” Husker said. “Depends on L-” He cut himself off with a wince.

“Depends on what?”

“Please just let it go, Charlie,” Husker pleaded.

“But I want to help.”

“You can’t. The best thing you can do is go home and forget we had this conversation.”

She needed to pull out her ace-in-the-hole, a guaranteed method to get Husker to give her what she wanted. “C’mon, Uncle Husk, I can help you! Whatever trouble you’re in-”

“I’m not the one in trouble, you are!”

Charlie’s mouth hung open, wide golden eyes slowly filling with tears. “What did I do?”

“Fuck,” Husker muttered. “You didn’t do anything, It’s-” his shoulders slumped and his next words sounded exhausted. “It’s your dad.”

“Then why can’t he tell me what-”

“Not Alastor,” Husker interrupted. “Your dad.”

“Alastor is- Oh.” Her jaw went slack. “You- you mean my dad dad, like, the one who didn’t want me?”

Husker shrugged, turning away. “Maybe, I dunno. But Alastor is really riled up about it, especially since he chased you out.”

“Wait, the guy on my birthday? That was my dad?”

Husker flinched. “I’ve already said enough to make me gator food, Charlie, please.”

She finally stopped pushing, instead dropping her coins on the counter. “Goodnight, Uncle Husk. I won’t tell Alastor what you said,” she said quietly. She left without finishing her drink, chest too tangled in conflicting emotions to enjoy it. She needed to think.

Chapter Text

“Well you look… nice,” Rosie said as Alastor came into the kitchen. “Got a date tonight?”

Alastor gave her a scathing smile. “That’s more your modus operandi, no?”

She shrugged, resting her chin in her palm. “Ya never know, maybe some lucky lass caught your attention.”

“I have a meeting at Sidewinder, if you must know.”

Rosie sat up. He really had her attention now. Alastor only went to Sidewinder when he didn’t want Husker to know who he was meeting with, and Rosie couldn’t think of anything currently that might…

Ah. Maybe one.

“With whom?” she asked, aiming for nonchalance.

“That is for me to know, dear Rosie.” Alastor picked up his cane and made for the door. “I’ll be back late.”

Once the door closed Charlie crept from her room, peeking down the hall where Alastor had disappeared. “Does he work tonight?”

“Apparently,” Rosie hummed. “Where’re you off to?”

“Vaggie and I are going to the park,” Charlie said without meeting Rosie’s eye.

Rosie raised a brow but didn’t call her out on her lie as the girl left. If she was going off on a secret adventure they’d find out soon enough. Besides, that meant she had the house to herself to plan what she’d be doing with her current paramour.

—----

“This is a terrible idea, Charlie,” Vaggie said, glancing behind them into the dark alley. Night had fallen before they set up around the corner from the entrance to the Hellfire Club, where they had a view of the door but could duck around the corner to avoid notice if need be.

“This is the best idea,” Charlie countered.

Vaggie grimaced. “People are going to think we’re escorts again.”

Her chest panged at the reminder, but Charlie had planned for that. “No they won’t because we’re wearing trousers.” She gestured to her tweed pants and suspenders.

“Where did you even get these?” Vaggie tugged uncomfortably at her collar.

Charlie made a face. She couldn’t very well tell Vaggie she’d gotten them from Alastor because it was easier to avoid making a bloody mess with trousers than with a dress. She didn’t know how to explain to the girl she liked that there was a reason…

She shut that thought down before it could get too far.

“I borrowed them from Alastor’s closet,” she lied.

“These are awfully short for that giant.”

Charlie flinched and pointedly did not look back at her friend. “They’re old?”

She could practically hear Vaggie roll her eyes. “Sure, if that’s what you want to go with.”

“It is.”

“Okay then.”

They lapsed into silence as Charlie watched the street and Vaggie perched on a stack of abandoned crates.

“What if he doesn’t come?” she asked.

“What if he does?”

“What are you going to do if he does?”

Charlie looked at Vaggie with wide eyes.

“...Do you even have a plan?” she ventured.

“I… I don’t know,” Charlie admitted. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. “I think he knows who I am. He knew my name, and he keeps coming back, and Husker is nervous. He’s genuinely afraid of Alastor finding out what he told me.”

Vaggie blinked slowly. “Should he be?” Her voice was full of concern, with the faintest hint of suspicion. It had been there ever since-

Nope, not thinking about that!

Charlie avoided the question. “And Alastor and Rosie have been weird since then too.”

“Do you think they know?”

Tugging at her hair, Charlie turned back toward her. “I don’t know, probably? But why wouldn’t they tell me?”

“Maybe they don’t want you to get hurt if he just leaves again,” Vaggie offered.

“Why is he here, if he didn’t want me before?” Charlie wondered, peeking around the corner again. What if she’d missed him? “Maybe I’ll ask him why.”

Vaggie hesitated a moment, then quietly said, “You’ve never really told me exactly what happened.”

Charlie glanced back and found Vaggie leaned forward, both hands on the edge of the box. “...Did you want me to?”

“Only if you do.”

“I don’t really remember it,” Charlie said, screwing up her face as she thought. “I know mom got me up early. I remember being scared and alone in the dark, but that’s really it. The rest I really only know from what Alastor told me.”

“Which was?”

“He was out hunting and found me. He took me home and he and Rosie decided to adopt me when my parents didn’t want me. I don’t think they could even find my mom.”

Vaggie hummed. “I can empathize with that. My dad’s a real piece of work.”

Knowing who her dad was and why Vaggie had run away as young as she did, Charlie smiled sympathetically and wrapped her arms around her friend. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Vaggie said, leaning into the embrace. “I’ve learned a lot about the kind of person I am.”

Charlie stepped back, hands lingering on Vaggie’s shoulders. “I like the kind of person you are.”

Vaggie blushed, then cleared her throat. “How long are we going to sit out here, anyway?”

“A little while longer,” Charlie said, returning to her post.

‘A little while longer’ turned out to be another two hours before Charlie gave up, conceding the man who might be her father wasn’t coming. She bid Vaggie goodnight and slunk back home, trying to sneak in without waking her guardians.

Alastor wasn’t home yet, but Rose met her in the kitchen with a raised brown and dangerous smile.

“And what time do you call this?”

—-----------

Alastor stood outside The Club Sidewinder, hidden within a small book store, trying not to compulsively check his pocket watch. He was early; he couldn’t expect Lucifer to be the same.

Finally, at a quarter to, he spotted the short figure coming down the road.

“Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Lucifer asked.

“No,” Alastor lied. “Shall we?” He led the way, opening the door for the smaller man and giving the ‘shop keeper’ the password. They were led through a swinging bookcase and into the speakeasy.

Sidewinder was much louder than the Hellfire, affording them a little more privacy. Alastor left Lucifer to find them a booth while he went for drinks. He ordered his usual rye and then, with a cheshire grin, ordered the fruitiest cocktail they bartender could make.

Lucifer raised his eyebrows at him when he set the cocktail before him but didn’t say anything about it before sipping it. There was a long awkward silence. “This is good! What is it?” Lucifer asked, eyeing his glass appreciatively.

Alastor’s grin soured at his act of pettiness being foiled. He shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“Do you want to try it?” He offered the glass and Alastor’s lip curled.

“I’ll stick with my rye, thank you.”

“Your loss,” Lucifer said, taking another sip. “So… what do you do for work?”

“Why?”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “I said I want to get to know you.”

“I can’t help but wonder,” Alastor said, “if you following me to ‘get to know’ me isn’t just a long ploy to get to my daughter.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched at the subtle emphasis put on ‘my daughter’ but this time didn’t comment on it. “I wasn’t following you.”

“No?” Alastor smiled, but it was not a friendly smile. “Nine years without a sign of you and suddenly every time I turn around, there you are.”

“Okay, maybe I’ve been… keeping an eye on you,” he admitted, “but! It wasn’t in, like, a creepy way.”

“There’s a not creepy way of stalking someone?” Given he considered himself an expert on the practice, Alastor was curious.

Lucifer gave him an apologetic smile. “I see your point.”

“Hmm.” Alastor sipped his drink. His eyes wandered over the club and its many occupants; it was rather busy tonight. The prime opportunity for the cops to roll in a bust… but that was part of what made Sidewinder so special. The owner was married to a detective’s sister - according to rumor.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Lucifer said, drawing his attention back. “About your job?”

“I host a rather popular radio show. Next door, actually.”

“And that… pays well?”

“Well enough,” Alastor said, eye twitching at the implication, “and I have other means of income. Rosie owns a boutique that’s managed through the recession so far.” Not least because it was funded by her scamming older rich men.

Lucifer nodded vaguely.

“And yourself?” If Alastor was going to give up pieces of himself, he would get as much in return as he could. He already knew quite a bit about Lucifer from his own habitual stalking, but he was curious how the man would describe himself.

“My family owns a few companies in the Americas and Western Europe, but around here it’s mostly factories.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “And that’s kept you wealthy?”

Shrugging, Lucifer swirled his drink. “As it turns out, when you continue paying your employees a reasonable wage through a recession they’re pretty motivated. Productivity actually went up. It helps that most of our plants manufacture necessary goods and things people want to spend the money on, like radios or other household items.”

Alastor blinked at him, surprised. He hadn’t met anyone running a factory who treated their employees well. There had to be a catch. “And your forement have your same ideologies?”

“Um… yeah? They work for me?”

Alastor sipped his drink. “Maybe you should check in on some of them. I just interviewed someone who said their foreman cut their wages.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed and he shifted uncomfortably. “It might not be one of my factories,” he mumbled.

Alastor gave him a wicked grin. “And what if it is?”

“I’d have to fire him, I suppose,” Lucifer grimaced.

“And you don’t want to?”

“Well, no, of course I don’t!” Lucifer appeared genuinely distressed, much to Alastor’s dismay. “Jobs are hard to find right now, and losing one could put his entire family on the street! Maybe if I gave him a severance, or I could just demote him and transfer him plants…”

All Alastor could do was stare at the man, a little spark of something in his chest. It couldn’t possibly be respect, but for someone as wealthy as a son of the Magne family… he had a lot of compassion for those of the lower class.

And he frequented the Hellfire, which meant he didn’t care about mingling with those of darker skin. It actually gave the man some merit.

“What?”

Alastor blinked and quickly looked away, having been caught staring. “I didn’t expect you to care so much.”

“...Why wouldn’t I?”

“My experience with those of your status has been less than satisfactory.”

Lucifer frowned. “You just assumed I’d be like everyone else?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Alastor said with a pained smile. “You’re a wealthy white man, I’m a middle class mixed race man with a white wife. That alone is enough to create problems for me. Once we consider your… unique factors, what else would I expect?”

He’d almost expected to find himself lynched, actually. He and Rosie had worried about it when they’d gotten married, but somehow they managed to keep their heads down and avoid notice. Fortunate, given their respective hobbies. Still, it was always in the back of Alastor’s mind.

“I didn’t think of it quite like that,” Lucifer said quietly, “but I’ll admit your race is part of why I didn’t involve the police the first night I saw you.”

“Much appreciated.”

They lapsed back into silence, each finishing their drinks before speaking again. “How did you and your wife - Rosie, was it? - meet?”

“Get me another drink and I’ll tell you.”

Lucifer jumped up and hurried to the bar.

Alastor sat back, rubbing his mouth and thinking. Already Lucifer had managed to change his entire perception of him. He should be disappointed; part of him had hoped the man would meet his criteria and give him an excuse to remove him… but if Charlie ever found out, even if he did belong on The List she would never forgive Alastor. Not to mention Lucifer’s death - or disappearance - would draw too much attention, as prominent a figure as he was.

No, Alastor thought, shaking his head ruefully, he was stuck dealing with Lucifer the boring way.

A glass slid in front of him. “Whiskey, right?”

Alastor sipped it and hummed appreciatively. It wasn’t rye, but it was good nonetheless. He looked up and paused before laughing.

“What?” Lucifer asked, affronted.

“Another cocktail?”

“It was good!” Lucifer hugged his bright green drink to his chest in an almost defensive manner. “Way better than that!” He gestured disdainfully to Alastor’s glass.

“Were you not drinking whiskey the night we met?”

Lucifer made a face. “I was drinking to get drunk that night.”

“You didn’t seem drunk when you marched over.”

“Oh,” Lucifer blinked, “I thought you meant Charlie’s birthday.”

It was Alastor’s turn to make a face. If he hadn’t indulged Charlie’s incessant desire to visit Husker at work they wouldn’t be in this debacle. At least Charlie didn’t know; that would make things much worse, for everybody involved. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Lucifer remembered the date, either, and wanted to drown himself that night. It was just unfortunate he’d chosen that club.

They sat a moment longer before Lucifer said, “Well?”

“Well, what?”

“You and Rosie.”

Alastor took another drink to procrastinate a moment more, and thought about what lie he was going to tell. He settled on a semblance of the truth. “We’ve known each other a long time,” he said. “When her first husband died I helped her sort out his mess. Being a single woman isn’t easy, especially when one has been married previously, and then the stock market crashed and even with her boutique it became apparent she would not be able to continue living on her own. Premarital cohabitation is frowned upon, not least with people in our situation. We came to the conclusion it would be advantageous to get married, and she moved in with me.”

“Wait, so you got married for… financial benefit?”

“You could say that, I suppose,” Alastor said with a smile. “Rosie is my dear friend and I trust her with my life, but we have no romantic feelings for each other.”

Lucifer took a light sip. “So um. Do you…?”

“That’s a rather personal question.”

His cheeks turned a rather fetching shade of pink, something Alastor hated that he’d noticed. He hated even more that he found it a good look on the man.

“S-sorry.”

Alastor smiled blandly, trying to hide his annoyance with himself behind a rather nasty jab. “And you? What made your wife leave you and abandon your child to die?”

Lucifer flinched as if Alastor had physically struck him, very nearly spilling his drink. His gaze dropped to the floor somewhere to his right. “I still don’t know,” he said quietly, voice so raw with emotion Alastor almost regretted asking.

Almost.

“She left a note on Charlie’s bed, saying she was done being a wife and mother and she didn’t want me to have Charlie, that she never should have existed, and nobody would ever find her.”

She was almost right, if only Alastor hadn’t intentionally been out where nobody would find his victims. Or been inclined to pull the struggling child out of alligator-infested waters. He didn’t say any of that, however, and simply hummed. “My gain.”

Lucifer flushed again, this time in anger as his eyes snapped back up to meet Alastor’s smug expression. The unique honey-gold irises he shared with his daughter reflected the low lighting, almost giving the appearance that they quite literally burned with his ire. Alastor had to suck in a breath.

“You don’t have to rub it in, asshole. I lost everything that night! I would have given everything I had to bring her back.”

It took Alastor a moment to regain his composure, a reaction he would have to assess later. Or not at all. “Would you still?” he asked.

“Are you suggesting you’ll sell her?” He somehow sounded even more outraged.

Alastor laughed. “Don’t be absurd, of course not!” He waved a hand in the air as if to brush away the accusation. “I was merely curious. I would not give up Charlie for the world.” He sipped his whiskey, voice turning wry. “Besides, Rosie would kill me if I did.” Slowly, painfully. Alastor was all for pain, as long as he was the one inflicting it.

Lucifer deflated, but continued glaring as he drained half his glass. He slumped in his seat. “I don’t know what I did,” he said pitifully, as if to himself, before looking back up at Alastor. “What could I have done that was so bad?”

Alastor remained silent; for once he didn’t have a witty remark.

Lucifer sighed. “I’ve missed so much… tell me about her?”

Alastor looked at him for a long moment, considering ending their conversation there. He must have endeared himself to Alastor, however, because he downed the rest of his drink and slid the glass across the table. “Rye, neat. Three fingers.”

Lucifer blinked at him, then scrambled to finish his own drink and get to the bar. Alastor watched him with an amused smile. Such a sad, strange little man.

He could indulge him for the evening.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”

Charlie jumped and whirled around, hand flying to the small knife she always carried in her pocket. Rosie had sewn them into all of her dresses, hidden in the seams, just for this purpose. There was no need to draw it, however.

“Don’t do that, I could have hurt you!” she said, scowling.

Angel snorted and folded his arms, leaning one shoulder against the brick wall. “Whatever you say, toots. You really shouldn’t be lurking back here this time of night all by yourself. There are unsavory sorts about.”

“Like you?” Charlie asked with a wry smile. “I can take care of myself.” She returned to peeking around the corner.

“You know it, toots,” Angel purred.

There was a beat of silence.

“Ya know, even if you managed to sneak in, Husker still wouldn’t serve ya.”

“I’m not trying to sneak in,” Charlie said, annoyed. “I’m waiting for someone.”

Angel paused. “Things with Vagina not working out?” he asked, surprised.

She turned scarlet and glared at him. “Don’t call her that. And I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re too obvious. I don’t mind, ya know, and I won’t tell anyone.”

Charlie didn’t say anything.

“I don’t think your parents will mind much either, y’know?”

“It’s not that,” she said quietly, “but could you imagine Alastor’s face if I brought anyone home?”

Angel laughed. “I’d pay money to see that!”

It was Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes and check the street again.

“Okay seriously though. Who are ya waiting for?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“Daaaamn,” Angel whistled, “great job! Is he a looker?”

“Shut up! It’s not like that!” Charlie gave him a half-hearted shove. “I don’t even know if he’s here tonight.”

Now Angel stood up, frowning. “Why don’t you just go look?”

Charlie hesitated. “I don’t want Husker to know I’m here,” she murmured.

Her friend’s frown deepened. “Why not?”

“Plausible deniability.”

“I didn’t peg ya as a regularly criminal kind of gal.”

You have no idea, she thought, but said, “Not that. If Alastor asks, I don’t want him to have to lie.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Angel asked, all joking gone from his tone.

Charlie fidgeted in place. “Remember that guy I told you about, that chased us out of the bar on my birthday?”

Angel nodded.

“Rosie and Al have been weird since then, like I was telling you, and I was trying to just ignore it, let it blow over like you suggested, only Husker… when he came over the other night I overheard him telling Al he ‘still hangs around a few nights a week,’” she lied, not wanting the truth to get back to Alastor, just in case. “I just… I have to meet him.”

“And Smiles is gonna be pissed if he finds out and you don’t want Husk to get in trouble.”

Charlie nodded once and turned away again.

After a moment Angel gave a heavy sigh. “What’s he look like? I’ll go check for ya.”

She glanced back at him. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, of course. You’re my girl-buddy, I gotta look out for ya.”

A small smile tugged at Charlie’s mouth, but she was too nervous for it to get far. “Well, he’s kind of short, and has blond hair, and he’s kind of pale…”

“So, he looks like you?” Angel snorted, and then his eyes grew wide. “Wait, you thinkin’ this guy is…?”

“Alastor’s my dad,” she snapped, then bit her lip. “But… I have to know.”

Angel ran his hand through his hair. “I shoulda minded my business, Al will kill me.”

Charlie cringed, but Angel didn’t seem to notice.

“Alright, I’ll go see if he’s there. If he’s not I’ll be back out in fifteen minutes. If he is, I’ll find a way to get him out here without raising suspicion. Easy.”

Charlie hugged him. “Thank you! I seriously owe you a solid for this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Angel patted her head. “Let go so I can work my magic.”

—-----------

Alastor slipped inside and hung his coat. The kitchen light shone down the hallway and the faint strains of Ella Fitzgerald met his ears. He smiled faintly. He may be at home stalking through the bayou, but nothing beat walking in the door after a long day. It was almost time for another hunt.

As he entered the kitchen he was surprised to find only Rosie sitting at the table. “Is Charlie in bed already? Her window was dark.”

Rosie looked up with a confused smile. “I don’t think so, she just went back. Why?”

“She was going to help me go through The List.” Alastor opened the false drawer that hid said list. He glanced at the paperwork in front of his wife. “Payroll already?”

“Mhm. Has Mimsy been by? Or maybe Niffty?”

“I don’t think so,” Alastor said, leaning over to check the numbers. He frowned. “Are we short?”

“Until they get us rent, yes,” Rosie said. “Do you think Husker will have his?”

Alastor sat down, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “His isn’t due for another week, but I can check… I’ll also send him to check on the girls. I suspect Mimsy has gotten herself into trouble again.”

Rosie looked up at him. “ Why?”

He gave her a flat smile. “She usually shows up after an absence with some problem on her tail.” A problem she created and expected Alastor to clean up for her. But then, that’s what she paid him for. That was the deal. Protect her, keep her employed, and she’d pay him for her housing and a bit extra where she could. She’d been good at keeping up her end - for the most part - and was very good at making sure Alastor kept up his.

Rosie conceded. “So… Husker?”

Alastor rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. “Do you need it tonight?”

“I would sleep easier.”

“Alright,” Alastor sighed, tucking The List back in its home. He’d been avoiding the Hellfire for a few weeks now, not that it had done him any good since Lucifer was stalking him. Last he’d spoken to Husker about it, Lucifer was only going once or twice a week now. It should be safe enough to allow Charlie a visit. Lucifer would keep his distance if he knew what was good for him anyway.

Which he clearly didn’t, but hopefully with Charlie with him he would have a little more self control.

His knock at her door went unanswered.

“Charlie? I’m going to the Hellfire, did you want to join me?”

Still silence.

Something crept up the back of his neck.

“Charlie, I’m coming in.” He opened the door and blinked as his eyes adjusted.

The room was empty.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed and he returned to the kitchen with a sharp smile.

Rosie looked at him. “I take it she’s not here.”

“No.”

She pursed her lips. “She’s been out late the last few nights.”

“Where?”

Rosie shrugged. “With Vaggie, she said, but she was lying.”

“And you didn’t press? Or tell me?”

“She’ll either tell us, or we’ll find out. As I suspect you’ll do tonight.”

Alastor growled in frustration. “I’ll start with Husker.”

—-----------

“He ain’t comin’ tonight,” Husker said, sliding Lucifer a new glass.

“What, I can’t just need a drink after a long day?” And a long day it had been; he’d visited several of his factories since his evening with Alastor a few days prior and found more than one instance of wage theft. He would have to keep a closer eye on things and better vet his upper management. Some of the culprits accepted demotion and reassignment, but one or two decided to simply take a severance package and look for work elsewhere. Lucifer hated firing people… but he couldn’t have that sort of behavior within his company.

The bartender rolled his eyes. “Whatever ya say. Just keep me outta it.”

Someone by the door wolf-whistled and Lucifer turned to see a skinny kid gliding between the tables, and gliding really was the only word for it; his movement was almost sinuous as he made his way to the counter. Husker cursed under his breath but went to meet him. He had a drink waiting by the time the boy arrived.

“Aww, you’re the best,” he said, offering Husker a mocking salute before knocking back the entire glass in one go.

Lucifer raised a brow, which seemed to catch the kid’s attention. His gaze flicked over him before he smiled and slid onto the stool beside him.

“Heya short king,” he sang, leaning into Lucifer’s space. “Haven’t seen ya around before.”

“Angel, leave the man alone,” Husker growled.

Angel sat back with an exaggerated pout at the bartender. “What, I can’t say hi to your new guys?” he said, flipping his hands up in an innocent shrug.

“You ain’t just sayin’ hi,” Husker said even as refilled Angel’s glass, “and he ain’t new. Trust me, he ain’t interested.”

Angel turned back to Lucifer with an appraising look. “Don’t look like a stumblebum to me.”

Lucifer raised a brow. “Just because I frequent the club does not make me a drunk.”

Husker scoffed, and Lucifer shot him a glare.

The kid hummed and offered his hand. “I’m Anthony,” he said, “but my friends call me Angel.”

Lucifer hesitantly shook his hand. “Lucifer.”

Something sparked in the kid’s eyes but he thankfully refrained from commenting on the origin of the name. “What brings ya to this part of town?”

Husker eyed Angel warily.

“I like the club,” Lucifer said, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Mmm, me too,” Angel hummed, once again crowding into the older man’s space.

“Angel,” Husker said.

He met the bartender’s gaze, his flirty attitude dropping for just a moment, and something passed between the pair. Husker’s eyes narrowed slightly, flicked between the door and Lucifer, and then he sighed. He set the bottle of whiskey down and excused himself to the far end of the counter to clean glasses.

When Angel turned back to Lucifer, the flirtatious smile was back. “So, you lookin’ for some company tonight?”

“I’m flattered, but I don’t swing that way.”

“Maybe I know somebody you’d be more interested in,” Angel went on, unbothered by the rejection.

Lucifer was beginning to grow annoyed. “I said I’m not interested. I just want a quiet drink.”

Something shifted in Angel’s eyes. “I really think it’s worth your time to step outside with me,” he said, tone dropping.

“I said no.” He stood and placed his bill on the counter, tapping it when Husker glanced up. “Good evening,” he added.

To his great annoyance, Angel hastily followed him. “Just around the corner,” he said, voice a little desperate as they stepped outside.

“I’m not falling for that,” Lucifer snapped, pushing the kid away. “I don’t have anything more on me so it wouldn’t be worth it anyway.”

“That’s not-”

“Angel?”

Lucifer froze.

“I fucking told ya,” Angel said sourly, folding his arms.

Lucifer slowly turned. He had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing who he thought he was seeing. He was. Charlie. Stood there at the corner of the building, one arm crossed over her chest and gripping the other so hard the skin was turning white around her fingers. He swallowed and furtively glanced down the street. Husker had said Alastor wouldn’t be coming tonight, but if she was here…

“Get over here before ya get caught,” Angel hissed, dragging Lucifer toward his daughter. The three of them ducked around the corner and hurried half a block before Angel finally drew to a stop and released Lucifer’s arm. “There,” he said, glaring at him. “I told ya it would be worth your time.”

Lucifer ignored him. He was busy staring at the teenager in front of him. It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at her. She was taller than him, and slender like her mother. Her dress was clearly hand sewn, but it looked to be a quality material - taken care of, just as Alastor had promised him. He didn’t realize how creepy he must look until she shifted uncomfortably, cheeks turning pink.

“Ah, sorry,” Lucifer said, clearing his throat. “I just… you look… good.”

Her blush darkened. “I’m, ah, Charlie Hartfelt.” She held out a hand.

His chest panged, but like with Angel, Lucifer took the offered hand and gently brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Lucifer Magne.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither sure where to begin, until Lucifer realized he was going to have to be the brave one. “Do you remember me?”

Charlie’s eyes fell to the ground somewhere to her left. “Kind of… when I focus.” She frowned. “You used to read me stories at night.”

His relieved smile might have been a little deranged, but he didn’t care about that right then. She remembered him. Not very well, but it was there.

“You liked rubber ducks.”

Lucifer let out a little laugh. “Yeah,” he said, and he only realized he was crying when she looked back up at him in surprise.

“Dad,” she said softly, hesitantly, and Lucifer’s restraint broke. He tugged her into a crushing hug, standing on his toes so she didn’t have to bend so far.

“Charlie,” he gasped. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”

“Y-you have?”

“Everyone told me you were dead, but I never gave up trying to find you.”

Charlie sniffed, and when Lucifer finally released her and she stepped back, her cheeks were wet too.

“Charlie!”

She suddenly stood stiff. “Oh shit,” she said.

Lucifer plastered himself against the wall, heart pounding. “Oh shit,” he echoed.

Charlie and Angel looked at him.

“Don’t tell him you saw me,” Lucifer whispered.

Angel peeked around the corner. “You go,” he whispered to Lucifer. “I’ll distract him.”

“Charlie, I know you’re back here somewhere!” Alastor’s voice was closer.

He looked at his daughter.

“I’ll get in touch, we can… get lunch, or something?” Charlie offered.

Lucifer nodded, a wide smile splitting his face. “I’d like that.”

“Go!” Angel pushed him, and he didn’t need to be told again. With a last glance over his shoulder, Lucifer hurried away.

Despite his terror at nearly being caught, he all but skipped home. Charlie remembered him!

Chapter Text

Alastor watched Charlie dance around the kitchen, humming along to the radio as she cleaned up after breakfast, bemused.

“You’re in a good mood,” Rosie said, breezing back into the room with her finances folders.

“For someone who’s grounded,” Alastor added.

Charlie flashed him a sour look. “I’m still allowed to be happy,” she said snidely, “unless I’m grounded from that too?”

Rosie and Alastor shared a look, brows raised.

“Of course you’re allowed to be happy, my dear,” Alastor said amiably, “and I am glad to see you have not let it get you down, so long as you remember that you are grounded.” She had slipped out under the excuse of ‘forgetting’ in the past.

“Thank you for the reminder,” Charlie snapped, closing a cabinet door a little more forcefully than necessary, “Alastor.”

He rocked back in his seat, a strained smile in place . Maybe it was his own insecurity with having just gone for drinks with Lucifer, but it felt like her tone implied a spat ‘you’re not my real dad’.

“Young lady!” Rosie gasped, and Charlie flinched. “Do not speak to him that way.”

Charlie looked down at the counter, good mood thoroughly spoiled. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“You are forgiven,” Alastor said, trying to ease the tension in his chest. “I did not mean to ruin your morning. I will take my leave.” He stood and straightened his waistcoat.

“Have a good day, darling. Good luck,” Rosie said.

Alastor paused in the doorway, then turned and pecked a kiss on Charlie’s cheek. “I will see you tonight, my dear.”

Charlie and Rosie both gaped at him as he left but if either of them had anything to say they didn’t get around to it before he was out the door.

—---

Lucifer liked the park. It was a breath of fresh air, and he always carried enough on him to slip some of the unfortunates a few dollars, or offer jobs when he was able. Even when he couldn’t, he enjoyed a mid-morning stroll if the weather was nice. He’d grown quite fond of New Orleans in the time he’d lived here.

Today, his pleasant morning was looking to get even better when he spotted the unmistakable towering figure sitting on a bench reading the paper. Lucifer casually approached, not wanting to be accused of stalking the man again.

“Good morning Alastor,” he said. “May I sit with you?”

Alastor startled slightly, looking up at him with a tight smile. “My, my, what a coincidence,” he said.

Lucifer held up his hands. “Hey, it truly is this time. I promise. I usually walk here a couple times a week.”

Alastor sniffed skeptically but scooted over to allow Lucifer room to join him.

“So…” Lucifer said as the silence became an awkward stretch, “come here often?”

ALastor didn’t look up from his paper. “I suppose.”

Lucifer waited for a longer stretch for the man to say something else, but he just kept reading. Only, he hadn’t turned the page, and it almost seemed like his eyes were slanted away… Lucifer swallowed hard, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. Did Alastor know? He’d clearly caught Charlie out late. How much trouble was she in? What sort of punishment did Alastor use? He’d not said anything about beatings during their evening at Sidewinder, but Lucifer knew it was common in many households-

Oh no, was that racist? Can’t be, he knew lots of wealthy white families who beat their children. He shook his head.

“Something on your mind?”

Lucifer almost jumped. “Ah, um, yes, actually. How is Charlie?”

Stupid! You’re not supposed to ask about her, or show interest in meeting her, you’re just getting to know him and if you keep pushing he’ll shut you out and-

“She’s fine,” Alastor said blandly, finally turning a page. “She’s starting to behave her age, regrettably.”

“H-how so?”

“She’s been sneaking out at night,” he said. “I caught her hanging out behind the Hellfire with one of her friends last night. He’s a terrible influence on her but short of killing him I can’t think of a way to get rid of him.”

Lucifer blinked at him, mind racing to find a suitable response. “Ha ha, teenagers, amiright? Kids will be kids.”

“Indeed.” Alastor closed his paper and turned fully toward Lucifer. “Why do you care?”

“Um, she’s my daughter, I just… want to stay informed, I suppose,” Lucifer said, voice dwindling as he spoke. He was going to lose any progress he’d made with Alastor and then he’d lose access to Charlie completely.

“Hm.” Alastor’s gaze cut across the park, where a middle-class couple were just walking out of sight. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not at the moment,” Lucifer said. “I was going to have lunch at that little deli down the block. Would you like to join me?”

Alastor glanced once more toward where the couple disappeared and sighed. “Why not?” He stood and brushed off his lap, tucking the folded paper under an arm and offering a hand to Lucifer, who blinked at it in surprise before taking it. Alastor pulled him to his feet. “Lead the way,” he said.

Despite his words, Alastor walked fast enough Lucifer almost had to run to keep up. “Do you always walk so fast?”

Alastor glanced down at him with an amused smile. “This isn’t fast, you’re just short.”

“Now listen here, you-” Lucifer started to scold, until he realized Alastor actually had slowed down and was laughing at him. A blush that had nothing to do with the exercise tinged his cheeks and he quickly looked away.

“So,” Alastor said as they reached the deli, “you truly did not intend to meet me in the park today?”

Lucifer hurried to reach the door first to hold it for his companion. “I didn’t, I swear.”

“How… annoying.”

“What?”

Alastor’s gaze drifted over the menu. “I was in the middle of something important, but I suppose it can be handled later.”

“Reading the paper is that important?” Lucifer asked wryly.

“It’s crucial I remain up to date on all the latest news, and get ahead, if I want my radio show to continue to be a success.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the man at the counter.

“What’ll it be for ya?”

Alastor hummed and placed his order. Before he could finish pulling out his wallet Lucifer elbowed him out of the way, placing his own order and pressing cash into the deli man’s hands.

Alastor’s smile pinched and his eyes narrowed. “I can pay for my own food.”

“I know,” Lucifer said placatingly. “I invited you to lunch, and I want to pay for it. It’s not always a question of ‘can,’ you know. Friends can do nice things for each other just because.”

Alastor blinked at him. “Are we friends?”

“Your sandwiches, sir,” the man behind the counter drawled, offering a bag.

“Thank you,” Lucifer said. He gestured to a table where they could sit. “Yes, I’d like to be.”

Alastor accepted his sandwich and stared at it contemplatively. “Can we be friends?” he wondered, almost as if he’d meant it to be an internal thought. “You will never meet my family, nor I yours.”

“Well,” Lucifer said slowly, “you’re my daughter’s… f-father,” this he said painfully, the word dragged over his tongue like broken glass, “which makes you family anyway. In a sense.”

Alastor stared at him, a deep something in his eyes Lucifer couldn’t fathom. “You called me her father,” he finally said, almost a question.

Lucifer closed his eyes and said quietly, “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

There was a long silence then a crunch. Lucifer opened his eyes to find Alastor chewing. “This is a good sandwich,” he said.

Lucifer just stared at him, slack-jawed, as Alastor took another bite.

The whiplash when talking to him was wild.

“Right,” Lucifer said faintly before unwrapping his own lunch. He wasn’t sure what to say; he didn’t have a plan, unlike the other times he’d ‘run’ into Alastor. He did want to get to know the man, but where to start? Beyond what they’d talked about at the club, anyway. He worked in radio, he liked hunting and occasionally took Charlie with him - an unladylike activity, but if she enjoyed it then who was he to argue - and his relationship with his wife was mostly transactional.

“There appears to be something on your mind,” Alastor said.

Lucifer stared at his sandwich. “I’m bad at this.”

“Bad at what?” Alastor asked blithely. “Parenting?”

Lucifer went red, gaze snapping up. “You fucking asshole,” he snarled. “Do you need to rub it in every chance you get?”

Alastor shrugged, smiling. “You make it entirely too easy.”

“Dick,” Lucifer huffed, looking away and biting into his sandwich to avoid having to say anything else about it. He didn’t get it, sometimes Alastor seemed friendly enough, even doing something nice like shortening his stride so Lucifer could keep up, and then he had to go and say shit like that to remind Lucifer of everything he’d lost.

He broodily munched on his sandwich, shoulders hunched, until Alastor said, “I seem to have upset you.”

Lucifer glared at him. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Alastor raised a brow, then set his sandwich back on its wrapper, wiped his hands on his napkin, and folded his fingers together as he rested his elbows on the table. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

“W-what?”

“You’re not going to convince me to let Charlie meet you, so what do you hope to accomplish by following me, and being my ‘friend?’”

A chill went down Lucifer’s spine. Alastor’s eyes were sharp, pinning him in place while he awaited an answer. He must be good at his job, to be so perceptive, but could he really blame Lucifer? “I want to be close to her,” he said, “even if it’s by proxy. I know that’s all it’ll ever be. And I’m lonely, so going out with you gets me out of the house.”

Alastor hummed, considering him for a long moment before flipping a hand in the air. “At least you’re honest,” he said.

“That… doesn’t upset you?”

“Of course it does.” Alastor picked his sandwich back up. “I don’t see that I have much choice in the matter. I could always pack up my family and leave the state, but I’d rather not uproot our lives. I suspect you’d follow us, anyway. Much like Charlie’s friend, I feel that short of killing you, there’s no escape.” He took a bite as if he hadn’t just casually threatened to end someone’s life twice in a single conversation - after having threatened to make Lucifer eat his own liver twice before.

“What is it with you and murder?” Lucifer asked.

Alastor gave him an amused smile. “Death is so final, don’t you think? Now, let’s make a deal. Should you ever see me with Charlie you will not allow her to see you. In return I will do… whatever this is… with you when I have the time.”

Lucifer blinked at him. “Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“...What about your wife?”

“Rosie already suspects something is amiss, I’m sure she would hardly be surprised to meet you. So, do we have a deal?” Alastor held out a hand.

Lucifer swallowed, then shook on it.

Alastor’s teeth flashed. Why did Lucifer feel like he’d just made the most important decision of his life - and chosen wrong?

Chapter Text

Lucifer drummed his fingers on the table, trying not to bounce his leg. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He glanced over his shoulder again, searching for that familiar figure, fearing those eyes that so enraptured him. Where normally he would seek Alastor in excitement now he was terrified of discovery - and Charlie hadn’t even arrived yet.

He bit his lip.

“You came.”

He turned back around to find her standing behind the chair opposite him, arms crossed over her chest and fingers twisting in the hem of her sleeve.

Lucifer hastily stood, stepping around the table, and then aborting the attempted hug and instead pulling out her chair for her. She offered him a shy smile and sat. “Thanks,” she said.

He returned her smile, sitting back down and offering her the chocolate milkshake he’d ordered. Her face lit up and she accepted it, taking a long sip and humming her appreciation. They sat in awkward silence for a long moment before Lucifer said, “Do you… remember that night?”

Charlie’s gaze cut away.

Great job, Lucifer, he thought. Let’s just start with the worst night of your life. And hopefully the worst night of her life, because that meant Alastor wasn’t lying and she’d had a good childhood.

“Only a little,” she said. “Just bits and pieces. I remember how terrified I was, and Alastor taking me home.”

“Do you remember if she said anything to you?”

Her brow scrunched and then she shook her head. She opened her mouth, like she wanted to ask something, and then took a drink of her milkshake instead.

Lucifer had to clench his fist to avoid fidgeting again. After a moment he said, “...How do you like school?”

This seemed a topic Charlie was more comfortable with. “I haven’t been since the old schoolhouse closed down, but Rosie’s been teaching me at home. She used to be a teacher, you know, until she decided to open her boutique.”

Lucifer frowned. “You don’t go to school?”

Charlie gave him a flat look. “The only schools that have survived the depression are white only, and Alastor is not that.”

He brightened a little at the name; twice now she hadn’t called him dad. He wondered if that was for his benefit, or if she truly used his name the way she’d used Rosie’s. “But you are,” he said, trying to remain on topic.

“You think anybody cares about that, when my dad is mixed?” she said, almost scornfully.

Ah, there it is. He tried not to wilt. “I suppose you’re right, as ridiculous as it is.” He wouldn’t care. Maybe he should look into opening a school…

Charlie didn’t respond, and rather than waiting again in silence Lucifer asked, “What are they like? Rosie and Alastor, I mean.”

“They’re amazing,” Charlie said without hesitation, clearly more comfortable with this topic. “Rosie is so kind and loving and has always looked after me like I truly am her daughter. Whenever I really try to remember what mom was like before… I can’t. It’s always just Rosie. She taught me how to sew and cook and braid my hair.”

She went on, gushing about her adoptive mother. Lucifer leaned on the table, chin propped in his hand, smiling gently as he listened. Clearly she was happy with the woman who’d raised her, and he found a small sense of satisfaction that she hadn’t immediately launched into such an enthusiastic expose on Alastor. He wondered what the man might say should Lucifer rub this fact in his face.

Only, he couldn’t, because if Alastor knew about this he would take Charlie away from him for good. Despite his apparent confidence in Lucifer’s ability to follow them, he wasn’t sure he could. Still, he was curious. He had to know. “And Alastor?”

Her lips pursed and again she looked away. Lucifer’s stomach twisted. Had the man lied to him after all?

Charlie sighed. “He’s a good dad,” she said, peeking back up at Lucifer, who hoped he hid his heartbreak well. “He’s strong, and he works so hard to provide the best life possible for me. He’s taught me how to protect myself, to not take shit from anyone. He can just be… strict, sometimes.”

“Did you get in a lot of trouble the other night?” he asked softly.

“I’m grounded,” she said.

“...That’s it?”

Charlie gave him an incredulous look. “Did you think he beat me or something?”

Lucifer backpedaled, raising his hands. “No, no! Of course not! I just wanted to make sure you weren’t punished too harshly, or I might have had to have words with him, ha ha.”

Her eyes went wide. “Please don’t,” she said, maybe a tad too vehemently. “You should probably stay away from him, he can be really protective and-”

“I know,” Lucifer assured her. “I was joking.” And it was a bit too late to stay away anyway.

“What, uh…” Charlie paused, taking another sip, “what is your life like?”

Lucifer paused, thinking. “I haven’t really had much of one,” he admitted. “Since that night, it’s been… work. Just work.” He hadn’t been able to focus on anything else for a while at this point, but he was getting some color back into his life. That color of course came from his daughter, but there was a remarkable amount of red.

Best not mention that.

“...Tell me about it?” Charlie asked, looking almost nervous as she gripped her milkshake.

Lucifer thought his work rather boring, but he had to indulge his daughter. Where to begin?

—------

The clock ticked loudly, even though the radio played a lively jazz tune. Alastor hummed along, skimming the paper as he went. His attention snagged on an article about wage theft in industry, and how one unnamed business man had recently fired several foremen caught stealing from their employees. He read it with a raised brow. “The owner declined a formal interview,” Alastor read aloud in a murmur, “but stated such behavior would not be tolerated. Hmm.”

“What was that dear?” Rosie said, popping her head around the corner.

“Oh, nothing,” Alastor waved one hand dismissively, “just reading the paper.”

“Anything interesting?” She stepped fully into the room, the skirt she was mending draped over an arm.

“It seems hope is not entirely lost for the upper courts of this world.” He passed her the paper.

Rosie glanced over the article and then up at him, both brows raised. “This wouldn’t happen to be related to your ‘business dinner’ the other night, would it?”

Alastor smiled easily. “What ever would make you think that?”

“Hmph,” she said.

Chuckling, Alastor set the paper aside and looked at the clock. “Is Charlie still not home?”

“She should be soon.”

Someone knocked on the door. Perhaps ‘knocked’ was a polite term, since it sounded like whoever it was wanted to break down the door.

The pair shared a look and Alastor rose with a resigned sigh. “I’ll get it.”

Rosie set her sewing on the table and followed, leaning against the entryway wall with folded arms.

As predicted, the form on the other side of the door was none other than Mimsy, looking somewhat bedraggled. She held her torn dress up, a wild look in her bright blue eyes. “Oh thank goodness, Mr. Hartfelt, ya gotta help me!” she cried, flinging herself at him the moment the door was open wide enough to do so.

He took a step back, deftly avoiding her even as Rosie cleared her throat and Mimsy seemed to remember herself.

“They’re afta me, ya gotta help me,” she pleaded.

“Oh Mimsy,” Alastor said with feigned concern, “whatever did you get yourself into this time?”

She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the street as if expecting whoever was ‘afta’ her to appear that moment. “Can I come in?”

Alastor hummed and stepped aside, beckoning her through. Rosie raised a brow at Alastor as Mimsy passed her, and he just shrugged with a small smile. If nothing else, Mimsy was amusing, and a source of income. If she didn’t get herself into trouble requiring protection, he would be out of a job. Well, one of his jobs, anyway.

“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some coffee?” Rosie said sweetly, moving her sewing to the back of her chair and sweeping over to the counter.

“Thank you Rosie dear,” Mimsy said, suddenly much calmer now she was inside.

Alastor sat opposite her, resting his elbows on the table. “Your rent is late,” he said.

Wide blue eyes turned on him, affronted. “You’re gonna ask me about rent? I’m in distress! Look at me!”

“I can’t uphold my end of our deal if you don’t uphold yours, Mimsy, you know that.”

She pouted. “I’m only in distress ‘cause I hadta go to the loansharks for rent money to begin with.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Alastor said with a wry smile. “You make enough dancing at the club to pay your dues. Nifty makes due on a housekeeper’s wages.”

“Yeah, but that little creep doesn’t hafta worry ‘bout people comin’ after her,” she complained. “She’s too freaky.”

Alastor’s smile didn’t waver. “And she doesn’t get herself into trouble the way you do. Nifty behaves. Unless he needed her to help clean up after a hunt got messier than expected, and she could keep her mouth shut. Mimsy didn’t know the details of Alastor’s protection, and she didn’t need to. She also didn’t need to know exactly what he protected her roommate from.

Mimsy crossed her arms and looked away. “Ya gonna help me or nah?”

“Are you going to pay your rent?”

“Here’s your coffee, sweetheart,” Rosie said, voice still dripping false honey.

Mimsy glanced at her and accepted the cup. She hummed contentedly as she sipped it. “Ya always have the best coffee, Rosie.”

“Why thank you, darling,” Rosie laughed, “but that’s only because you haven’t had Alastor’s.”

Mimsy sipped her drink again before finally looked back at Alastor with a defeated look. “I can pay ya tomorrow,” she said.

“See that you do,” he said, smile widening, and Mimsy fidgeted uncomfortably. “Now, tell us who’s been giving you trouble.”

—----

Charlie glanced at Alastor out of the corner of her eye, trying to read his silence. He looked normal enough, wearing that contented expression unique to when he was working on a body.

Well, this one wasn’t a body quite yet, but it would be soon enough if the glazed look in his eyes was anything to go by. Two of the three other men had already died and it was there Charlie worked, expertly cutting away muscle and slicing into the abdomen to harvest the organs her parents preferred.

“Hmm, pity,” Alastor hummed, standing and nudging his current project with a toe. “He didn’t last very long at all.”

Charlie glanced back down at the thug but said nothing. She didn’t mind helping Alastor, though she didn’t participate in the actual taking of life with him. Instead she helped with clean-up when Niffty was unavailable, or there was more than one target - like their current situation. Having to deal with Mimsy meant they would be abandoning the prey they’d been stalking the previous week, but Charlie was okay with that. It would give her more time when her dad got back from his business trip.

Her grip tightened on her knife. What would he say if he knew what she was doing right now? Charlie had never really worried about what others might think about her nighttime activities; it was just a part of her life, of who she was. Only, now she had someone who didn’t grow up on the bad side of town, on the outs with society, who couldn’t even begin to understand why the Hartfelts did what they did. At least Vaggie and Angel had an idea about what life at the bottom was like.

The last man whimpered as Alastor approached him, cringing into the tree he’d been leaned against after Charlie had broken his kneecaps. She turned to watch them now, noting how even now he was trying to gain purchase with his feet to escape.

“What shall we do with you?” Alastor said, mindlessly spinning his knife between his fingers.

Charlie glanced over their work so far. They’d dragged the four men out here into the woods, gagged and bound, and Charlie had set about making sure none of them could flee while Alastor started in on the first man. He’d killed him somewhat quickly to show the others just how serious he was.

This was no scare job; they were all going to die.

The second he had taken his time with; this Charlie was more accustomed to. Perhaps it was a little hypocritical of Alastor to so enjoy tormenting his victims when his mission statement was to remove cruelty from the world, but Charlie also understood this was an urge he couldn’t help, hadn’t been able to help since he was a child, and at least he was directing it to trying to do some good in the world.

By the time the second man finally died the remaining two had both pissed themselves and were blubbering through their gags. Tears leaked from beneath their blindfolds. The moment Alastor hauled the third man away from the tree he had started trying to speak, no doubt trying to beg, and Alastor had simply laughed as he tossed him onto flat ground. The man tried to crawl away and for that Alastor started by removing his fingers one by one.

“You could always gut,” Charlie said, “instead of leaving all the drudgery to me.” She gestured to the row of bodies.

Alastor gave her a knowing look. “By all means, you’re welcome to take care of this one while I finish the prep work.”

Charlie scrunched her nose and shook her head.

Turning back to the sniffling loan shark, Alastor chuckled. “It’s not a terrible idea,” he said. He dragged the man out by an ankle. He cried out, curling up and reaching bound hands for the mangled knee Alastor was currently twisting.

Alastor cut the rope.

Unlike the others, this one decided to fight. He swung blindly upwards and only missed connecting with Alastor’s face by a hair. The killer snarled. Fast as lightning he snatched the swinging arm by the wrist and planted a foot on his chest. Charlie grimaced as cracking bone accompanied a scream and the arm fell limply to the ground, shoulder pulled completely from the socket, and the other soon joined it.

Grinning maniacally, Alastor straddled the sniveling man’s hips and ripped his shirt open. Buttons scattered across the ground. Charlie could see the drying blood on his face glinting in the moonlight. He truly was terrifying like this.

Alastor tugged the blindfold away and smiled down at his final victim of the night. “Try not to die too quickly,” he murmured with false sweetness, then carved a neat line from navel to sternum. Fresh blood splattered his face and he licked it off his lips.

Charlie turned back to her own task to the soundtrack of screaming as Alastor set about a mirror of her movements.

Later, when their ‘groceries’ were wrapped and tucked into their bags and the remains were disposed of, Charlie watched Alastor lick his fingers clean of the last vestiges of blood. “Eventually you’re going to get sick doing that.”

He shook out his handkerchief to wipe his face. “At which point I shall retire and let the devil drag me to hell for my crimes.”

“Don’t say that,” Charlie said.

Alastor smiled at her. “You can’t honestly believe I’m heaven bound.”

She bit her lip.

“I thought not. Come; Rosie will be wondering what’s taking so long.”

Hefting her full bag of meat, Charlie followed. Alastor certainly wasn’t heaven bound, even if he did believe in God. She wondered where that left her.

Best not think about it.

Chapter Text

Alastor stormed into the kitchen, flinging his coat over the back of his chair and yanking open the fridge. Charlie jumped, immediately shrinking back into her seat. He knows! she thought, wondering how much trouble she would be in for her meeting. Lucifer was still out of town; he had warned her he would be for a couple weeks - something about work - so that would give her time to talk Alastor out of hurting him. But how?

“Alastor, dear, whatever is the matter?” Rosie said, rushing into the room.

“They're selling the station,” he snarled, slapping his selected flank cut on the counter and ripping open the packaging. A wave of relief washed over her until she fully processed what he’d said.

Rosie’s eyes widened and she and Charlie shared a panicked look. “To who?” she asked.

“It’s up for bid,” Alastor said without looking up from dicing the meat with more aggression than necessary. “Right now the leading offer is fucking VoxTech.”

Rosie gasped.

“VoxTech?” Charlie asked hesitantly. The name sounded vaguely familiar but she wasn’t sure of its significance.

“A rival company,” Rosie explained. “They prefer televised media.”

“And it’s run by Vox,” Alastor said savagely.

“The man’s already dead,” Rosie said, and it took Charlie a moment to realize she meant the man who’s meat Alastor was currently mincing.

“He’ll shut down my show,” Alastor said. “He’ll close the entire station.”

“You don’t know that,” Charlie said soothingly. “Maybe he’ll just leave your show alone.”

“He won’t. He’s been waiting for a chance like this for years!”

Charlie looked at Rosie, confused, and received a look that said they would talk later. Rosie jerked her head toward the door. Charlie reluctantly stood and made to leave. She hesitated, then turned and wrapped her arms around Alastor. “It’ll turn out okay,” she said.

“Charlie-” Rosie said, sounding panicked as Alastor stiffened.

After a tense moment he patted Charlie’s hands over his chest. “Goodnight, Charlie,” he said gently.

“Goodnight Dad,” she murmured and felt him soften. On her way out the door she gave Rosie a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight Mom.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Rosie said with a brilliant smile.

Charlie sat on her bed with the light off and the door closed. She could hear her parents’ voices in the other room, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Her fingers clenched and unclenched around her knees. She wanted to help… but how? It’s not like their family could afford to buy the station, especially not in a bid. She wouldn’t be able to raise any kind of helpful money - not without making some major life sacrifices and she knew Alastor would rather lie prostrate before the police and confess all his crimes than have her do that.

She had to do something. He was her dad, he’d given so much for her, she-

Charlie gasped and sat up straighter. Her dad! He was wealthy, maybe he could do something to help? But he wasn’t here right now and hadn’t told her how to reach him should she need to while he was gone. She chewed her lip. How long would the bid be up?

She was halfway through changing clothes to sneak out her window when there came a soft knock at her door. Charlie froze.

“Charlie, are you still up?” Rosie said.

Her eyes darted briefly to the window, then her own state of dress, and Charlie snatched up her robe on the way to answer the door, tying it shut as she opened it.

Rosie smiled. “I thought you might be. May I come in?”

That was one thing Charlie loved about her parents; they respected her privacy. While they did occasionally pull ‘this is my house’ on her, for the most part they knocked first and if she didn’t want them in her room they would patiently wait for her to join them in the living room or kitchen.

Stepping aside, Charlie glanced down the hallway as Rosie entered. “He’s cooking,” she said, and Charlie nodded and closed the door behind her.

Both women sat on the edge of Charlie’s bed. “Who’s Vox?” she demanded.

“Manners, young lady,” Rosie said reproachfully, and Charlie looked at her hands. Rosie sighed. “Vox used to work with Alastor, back when they were getting started in reporting. I had only just met Alastor and didn’t know that we shared the same hobbies yet.”

Charlie suppressed a smile; she’d heard the story of that discovery before, and the pair had gotten married shortly after. It wasn’t a romantic story, she knew, but sometimes she pretended it was.

“The stock market hadn’t crashed yet,” Rosie continued, “and things weren’t so difficult, but positions in media weren’t as frequent as one might hope. A recruiter came to their office and set his sights on the pair. I don’t know the details but things went south, they had a falling out, and Vox sabotaged Alastor’s interview. Alastor had worked so hard to get in despite being mixed, and Vox not only cost him the advancement but his job with the paper.”

Charlie looked up, eyes wide. Her hands clenched. She knew things had been different in the twenties but why would someone do something like that? “He… sounds like the sort of person on our List.”

Rosie laughed. “Oh darling, he is the List! He and his business partner and their little secretary girl all. Unfortunately they are major figureheads, and given their lasting rivalry Alastor would be their first suspect. They’re untouchable.”

Charlie frowned. “And now he’s trying to buy Alastor’s studio?”

“Apparently so.” Rosie sighed. “We’ll find a way to make things work until Alastor finds another job… Mimsy isn’t likely to fall behind again for some time, and Niffty has always been reliable.”

“I can get a job,” Charlie said, rushing on before Rosie could protest. “I’m sure I could get in with the factory downtown, or Mimsy could get me in at the club! I could pass for eighteen, and they wouldn’t look too hard anyway-”

“Out of the question,” Rosie said firmly. “You are going to finish what schooling I can give you and you are going to get a respectable job when things get better.”

Charlie scowled. “I don’t want to be a burden anymore.”

Rosie’s jaw dropped. “Sweetheart! Whatever makes you think you’re a burden?”

Struggling, Charlie looked away. “You took me in after my parents abandoned me and I haven’t been able to give back.”

“Charlie, darling,” Rosie said gently, cupping her face and turning her head back to look at her. “You are not and have never been a burden on us. You are our joy. You give back to us every day with your smile, and when you come home at the end of the day. You’ve grown into such a bright young woman and we are so proud of you. The only thing we would ever ask of you is to keep being our darling daughter.”

Charlie swallowed, eyes dropping. She sniffed. “I just want to help.”

“I know sweetheart.” Rosie pulled her into a hug. Charlie tucked her face into her mother’s neck and tried to ignore the guilt curling in her gut. Would Rosie still feel this way if she knew about Lucifer? Was she betraying her adoptive parents by seeing her dad?

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. She was going to find a way to help them, whether they liked it or not, and if that help came from Lucifer… well, they didn’t have to know.

Chapter Text

Blood truly did look black in the moonlight. Husker knew this and knew it intimately. He knew how much it looked like oil when splattered across pale skin, knew the tang of it in his nose, the way clothing hung as blood dried in the fibers. He’d seen it countless times.

There was something different when it was someone you cared about, though. His gut twisted as he looked at Angel, eyes wide and slightly glazed even as his breath came in quick, panicked gasps. Dried blood flaked off his hands. In the darkness Husk couldn’t tell the difference between freckles and blood splatter.

“Get inside,” he said hoarsely. Angel didn’t move until Husk grabbed his arm and dragged him through the door. Even then his movements appeared detached. He went without protest as Husk ushered him into a chair and waited in silence as he closed the curtains. Husker draped a blanket around Angel’s shoulders and still he didn’t move until the bartender shoved a glass of water into his hands. “Drink.”

Angel’s eyes flicked up to him. He blinked. Slowly, as if it was painful, he raised the glass to his lips and sipped.

“Finish it,” Husker commanded.

Angel winced but obeyed. It took several minutes, but he finished the water, and the glazed expression had faded somewhat.

“Tell me what happened.”

Blue eyes widened and then dropped. Angel curled in on himself, hands tightening around the empty glass.

“Angel,” Husker said, crouching before him. His voice softened. “Anthony.”

He looked up.

“Tell me what happened.”

Angel shuddered, and told him.

—----

They didn’t often have a quiet night anymore; not where the three of them sat in the front room listening to the evening radio and simply enjoying being together. Alastor hummed along with the music while he read a book and Charlie worked on a puzzle with Rosie. It was a contented quiet.

Until car tires squealed out front, headlights flashing across the wall through the curtains. Alastor sat upright, sharing a wide-eyed look with Rosie as they heard the twin slam of car doors.

The women jumped to their feet and hurried toward Rosie’s room while Alastor drew his pocket pistol and reached the front door the same time someone began pounding on it. He peeked through the small window. He didn’t relax per se, but he removed his finger from the trigger and opened the door.

“Husker,” he said.

The man’s eyes darted around the street, which was enough to put Alastor even more on edge. When he saw the diminutive figure behind him his eyes narrowed. “Can we come in?” Husker asked, then added in a low voice, “Please.”

Alastor raised a brow. “Whatever for? It’s a bit late to be polite, you know.”

“I know trust me, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” He shuffled as though expecting Alastor to move, but the taller man didn’t budge. Husker’s eyes landed on where ALastor’s arm was tucked slightly behind the door frame and he swallowed. “Alastor, please. We need your help.”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Explain away!”

Husker growled and glanced at the man behind him. Alastor finally fully looked at him and was surprised to see Charlie’s friend. What on earth could have Husker here with Angel at half past ten? “Boss-”

“Husker,” Alastor said, all joviality gone from his voice. Husker stiffened. “Explain. Now.”

“We need your help,” Husker said. “Angel had- an incident. I don’t know anybody better to deal with… such matters.”

Alastor remained silent.

“Please, boss,” Husker said again, and oh, wasn’t it just delicious to hear the proud man beg?

“Details, dear Husker, details,” Alastor sang.

Husker gave a heavy sigh and reluctantly stepped aside to fully reveal Angel, who flinched slightly and didn’t meet Alastor’s eye.

“My, my,” Alastor hummed, “someone has gotten into a pickle, haven’t you.”

“...self defense,” Angel muttered.

Ah. The poor boy was in shock. How disappointing.

“If that’s the case the police should have no problem assisting you,” Alastor said.

Angel’s fingers flexed around his arm. He turned his face away.

Husker spoke for him. “One of V’s goons attacked him.”

“All the more reason for me to remain uninvolved.”

“He hid the body.”

Now that was interesting. “And?”

“...In the bayou.”

Alastor blinked, resisting the urge to curl his lip. “How… unfortunate.”

“You gotta protect him!”

“I must do no such thing,” Alastor said sharply. “I don’t do charity work, you know that. Certainly not when it might put us at risk.”

Angel shivered.

“Boss- Alastor, please. I’ll- I’ll do whatever you want, give you whatever you want. Just- please. Protect him.”

“Oh Husker,” Alastor purred, “you’ve already given me everything. What more could you possibly have to offer?”

“Anything. Anything you ask.”

“Hm. Show me how much he means to you. Beg me to save him.”

“Please, Alastor, we need you. Nobody else can help, you-”

“Kneel.”

There was a beat of shocked silence, Husker’s face twisting slightly before he slowly made to obey. Angel’s hand shot out, gripping Husker’s arm, and he shook his head. Husker looked at him, but dropped to his knees anyway.

“Please.”

Alastor looked down on him, still with an easy smile, and hummed.

“Al.”

He turned. Charlie stood at the end of the hall.

“Angel’s my friend,” she said softly. “Help him, dad, please?”

He felt his face soften against his will. How could he possibly say not to that? He turned back to the pair on the doorstep. He’d so wanted to see Husker beg a little more. With a put upon sigh he stepped out of the way. “Come in, then.”

Husker jumped to his feet and ushered Angel inside. His eyes tracked Alastor’s hand as he tucked his pistol back in his waistcoat. Alastor flashed a toothy smile at him. Husker hurried on.

Charlie gave him a disapproving frown before wrapping an arm around Angel’s shoulders and guiding him into the living room. Alastor closed the door and followed.

Rosie met his gaze as they passed in the hallway. He shrugged. She pursed her lips but joined them anyway.

“Well then,” Alastor said as he sat, waiting until Angel finally looked him in the eye, “suffice to say should tonight’s events ever leave this house, I will kill you, Charlie’s friend or no.”

Angel’s eyes widened. He shrank into Charlie’s side.

“Dad,” she said reproachfully, but he ignored her.

“I must look out for me and mine, you see. Now, if I’m going to protect you, you must tell me everything. Every detail.” Alastor leaned forward, hands steepling. “You will do what I say, when I say it, and you will not talk back. This is not a short-term arrangement, Anthony. This is forever. If I help you, you are mine. So,” he offered a hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Angel looked at Husker, who closed his eyes in defeat, and then at Charlie, who bit her lip and looked at her lap. He even looked to Rosie, who held his gaze levelly but said nothing.

Angel swallowed.

He looked at Alastor, at his outstretched hand.

Trembling, he shook it. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

It was funny, how much walking into the club felt like coming home. That should probably be a sign of something, but if it was Lucifer chose to ignore it. It wasn’t like he was here to get drunk every night. Husker had been extremely patient with him, especially with how little money he spent here anymore. Then again, he always left a sizeable tip to make up for it.

Not that the bartender wasn’t constantly trying to get Lucifer to stop coming anyway.

When he approached the bar and caught Husker’s eye the man scowled.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked as he approached, Lucifer’s usual already in hand.

“Aw, did you miss me?”

“No,” Husker grunted, setting the glass down, “I just thought maybe ya finally got some sense in ya.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Had some business to take care of.”

Husker looked like he wanted to ask for more details but thought better of it, grumbling something inaudible and sauntering off to see to another customer. Lucifer sipped his drink and watched the room, as usual. He wondered if he’d missed anything important during his absence; he’d worried about it every night, wishing he’d gotten to see Charlie more before leaving, but it couldn’t be helped. Starting a new contract was always easier when he went in person, and he liked to check the conditions his employees would be working in. The rest of the industry might not care, but he wanted his people safe and as comfortable as they could be at a factory. The recent incident here in New Orleans had reminded him he needed to pay more attention to the goings on in his businesses.

Besides, he would be seeing Charlie tomorrow; she could fill him in then. He looked forward to listening to her talk about her life.

He sighed and smiled into his drink. “It’s good to be home,” he murmured to nobody but himself.

—----

Alastor hadn’t seen Lucifer in a little over two weeks and was beginning to wonder what might have happened to the man. He didn’t dare hope he’d given up; no, Lucifer had proven far too stubborn to step back now. Besides, Alastor reasoned, why would he have made such a deal with him if he was just going to disappear again?

Which led Alastor to wonder if something truly had happened to Lucifer. He’d think there would have been some sort of reporting on the matter if a member of the Magne family fell upon misfortune. No, what irritated Alastor the most was that he found himself missing the fool - and really, who did that make the foolish one?

He tried to convince himself he needn’t worry, but then that reminded him he wasn’t worrying at all, would never worry about Lucifer’s wellbeing; if something happened to him then all the better; Alastor wouldn’t have to worry about his interference with Charlie anymore.

Yeah, right.

Lucifer’s extended absence did help Alastor feel safer to take his daughter out with him, now he didn’t think he had to worry about her nuisance of a father popping up unexpectedly and piquing her curiosity even further.

Which, of course, was too good to be true.

Al spotted him first, walking through the door swinging his silly cane.

Lucifer’s wandering gaze met Alastor’s and he froze, eyes flicking briefly to Charlie, who sat with her back to the room. He looked torn. Luckily Charlie was now on a tangent about Angel’s boss and didn’t notice Alastor’s smile sharpen to something dangerous, his eyes narrowing into a warning. Lucifer licked his lips, glanced once more at his daughter, then wisely chose to retreat.

“Alastor?” Charlie said, glancing over her shoulder just as Lucifer disappeared from view. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing my dear! I simply thought I saw someone I know.”

Charlie eyed him suspiciously but for once didn’t continue to question it. “So anyway, after he moves in with Husk-”

“Excuse me?” Alastor spluttered, eyes snapping back to his daughter. “Moving in with Husk?”

Charlie gave him a flat look. “Angel. Now he’s… one of us, he should move in with Husk. He doesn’t really have anywhere to live right now so he’s been staying with his boss and it’s been really bad. Val takes everything Angel makes-”

Alastor hummed speculatively. “I suppose we could use the extra income, and I’ll certainly take less than Valentino.”

“You… know Angel’s boss?”

“But of course!” Alastor flipped one hand up. “I take the time to look into the families of all your friends. Why do you think I so dislike you spending time with him? He works for Valentino, and Valentino works with Vox.”

Charlie blinked, then scowled. “You knew and you never said?”

“Whyever would I?” Alastor sipped his water. “Finish your lunch; I have an errand to run and Rosie would appreciate your help this afternoon.”

“Don’t change the subje- wait, already?”

“She’s an enigma.”

Charlie sighed, poking at her sandwich. “I don’t like it when you two do this so close together.”

“Cleaning up after Mimsy was hardly the plan.”

“I know, it just feels like a lot all together like this. Especially considering Angel’s…”

Alastor pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I don’t disagree with you my dear, but needs must and all that. I will notify Husker about Angel’s move, you can tell your friend. We’ll address his employment later.”

She brightened. “You’re going to get him another job?”

“I’m going to try. I can’t have one of mine under the thumb of them,” he said disdainfully. It had been a while since he’d added to his little network and Alastor didn’t like that the VoxTech group now had a direct line to him. That would have to be remedied as soon as possible. He knew Angel had no doubt as to his position, but it wouldn’t do to have the risk.

Dropping cash on the table, Alastor stood. “Take your time; I will see you at home this evening.”

Charlie wrapped her sandwich and followed him from the diner. “I’ll go see Angel now; he should be at the park.”

“Be careful, my dear,” Alastor said before they parted ways and he turned to head the direction Lucifer had gone. He suspected the man hadn’t gone far.

He was right.

Lucifer fell into step beside him.

“Where have you been?” Alastor asked after a moment, hands tucked behind his back.

Lucifer glanced up at him from the corner of his eye, a wry smile pulling at his mouth. “Did you miss me?”

Alastor’s eye twitched but his own smile didn’t drop. “Of course not.”

“Hmph,” Lucifer snorted. “If you say so. I was out of town on business; we bought a factory and I prefer to oversee these transitions in person.”

“Is that so.”

“It is.” Lucifer glanced up at him again and stopped, forcing Alastor to stop as well. “Why did you follow me?”

“Why did you wait for me?”

“Where’s Charlie?” Lucifer asked instead.

“Looking for her friend.”

He sighed. “I didn’t expect to run into you today.”

“I assumed as much,” Alastor said, leaning forward on his cane. “I didn’t expect you to be able to leave when you saw Charlie.”

“...I said I would.”

Alastor shrugged. “People lie, plans change.”

“I keep my word. Besides, I like my liver where it is, thank you.” He was smiling with good-natured humor. Alastor hated the flutter it sparked in his stomach.

“Well. I suppose that means I owe you dinner.”

“You do? Why?”

“You upheld your end of our deal - this time. Therefore I must uphold mine. I am busy tonight, but perhaps tomorrow?”

Lucifer looked somewhat relieved. He nodded. “That works for me. Where should we meet?”

“There’s a small diner down the block from the Hellfire. Be there at seven.” Alastor turned to leave.

“Wait!”

Alastor jerked away from the touch on his arm and Lucifer stepped back, hands raised in apology.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just. We can’t keep making plans at the mercy of coincidence. Do you, I don’t know, have a phone number?”

This gave Alastor pause. He’d never considered that they might wish to communicate regularly, outside of Lucifer’s stalking attempts. Had Lucifer asked a few weeks ago Alastor could have given him his business card, but who knew how much longer he would have that number? The bid was set to close in two days and thus far VoxTech was still leading by a large margin. If he gave Lucifer the number to the house there was always the chance Charlie would answer - and the likelihood Rosie would. Both would have questions.

Alastor sighed. “Do you have a pen?”

Lucifer blinked and pulled one from his pocket, wordlessly handing it over.

Alastor crossed out the station’s number on the card and wrote his home number on it. “Should anyone but me answer, tell them you are calling on business. If you must leave a message, simply say to let me know an associate called.”

It would still raise uncomfortable questions and Rosie would see right through it, but it was the best option.

Lucifer accepted both card and pen with wide eyes.

“What?”

“I… didn’t really expect you to actually give me your number.”

Alastor rolled his eyes.

“Do you have another card? I’ll write down mine.”

“Why on earth would I need yours?” Alastor asked even as he handed over a second business card. It wasn’t as though he would need them much longer.

“Um, so you can call me? Like friends do?” Lucifer scribbled his number down and handed it back.

Alastor hummed and tucked the card back into his breast pocket without looking at it. “If that’s all?”

“I guess.”

“Then good day,” Alastor said with a curt dip of the head.

“Erm, yeah,” Lucifer said. “See you tomorrow!” he gave a jerky wave and crossed the street.

As he watched him go, Alastor gently rested a hand where Lucifer had touched his arm and frowned. The touch was unexpected, but it didn’t cause the crawling sensation most contact did. He glanced back after where Lucifer had vanished. “How inconvenient,” he muttered, then turned toward home. He could dwell on this unsavory turn of events later.

—----

Lucifer had managed to find Charlie shortly after parting ways with Alastor and now he waited just outside the same diner they’d originally met at. She wasn’t late yet and hadn’t said anything about still being grounded, but still he worried. What if Alastor had seen them talking and came in her stead? Lucifer might have felt like they shared an inside joke as far as his liver went, yet he couldn’t help a tingle of fear running down his spine when he thought about the look on the man’s face when he’d originally made the threat.

That, and Husker seemed afraid of the man too.

“Um, hey, Lucifer,” a soft voice said.

He turned, brightening at the sight of his daughter. Something in his chest ached at her using his first name, but he reminded himself she barely knew him. That was the whole point of these meetings, wasn’t it? To get to know her? Maybe some day she’d be comfortable calling him dad more often. She seemed to be the same way with Alastor at least, switching between the two names without apparent rhyme or reason.

“Charlie,” he said warmly, once again stepping in to hug her and aborting. This time, however, she shyly met him in the middle and offered him a brief embrace before stepping back and clearing her throat.

“After you,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for her to enter before him. At their table he drew out her chair for her before taking his own seat.

“Just a milkshake, please,” she asked of their server.

“Are you sure? You can get whatever you want, I’ll pay for it.”

Charlie shook her head. “If I don’t eat dinner when I get home Rosie will have a fit.”

Lucifer nodded in understanding; secrecy was the name of the game. Nothing to raise suspicion. He ordered a chicken-fried steak; might as well have something to share if she changed her mind.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Charlie asked, “How was your trip?”

“It went as well as it could have,” Lucifer said. “The transition was relatively smooth, I restructured the floor a little so I could offer as much pay as possible with as few hours as possible. Hopefully the new schedule will open room for a few new hires.”

She looked at him with shining eyes and a small smile.

“What?”

She blinked and quickly looked away, a faint blush rising in her cheeks. “Nothing, it’s just… you’re so nice.”

Lucifer looked at her for a long moment. “You sound as if you didn’t expect me to be.”

“I didn’t really know what to expect,” she admitted, glancing back at him. “Why did you…” she trailed off, then shook her head. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter now.”

Lucifer wanted to ask her to tell him anyway, ask whatever she wished, but something in her face had closed off and she looked uncomfortable, so he moved on. “Did anything exciting happen while I was out of town?”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide for a moment. “Not really, no! Nope, nothing crazy!”

Well that was weird and totally not a lie. He raised a brow.

Her blush darkened. “Well, my friend is having some trouble at work so he’s moving in with Uncle Husk, and we found out they’re selling the station Alastor works at.” She bit her lip and looked away again, like she’d said more than she meant to.

“Well, a change in management isn’t always so bad,” Lucifer said.

Charlie’s shoulders slumped. “This one will be. It’s up for bid I guess, and Alastor said the leading offer right now is VoxTech and they’ll shut the show down.”

“Why?”

“Rosie said they have some personal history or something. I dunno. I offered to get a job to help with bills until Alastor can find something else, but they won’t let me.”

Damn straight, Lucifer thought, then mulled it over. He’d wondered why Alastor crossed out the station number on the card; if he was expecting to lose his job soon it would stand to reason he wouldn’t need it anymore. Warmth bloomed in Lucifer’s chest; if Alastor wanted, he could have just handed over the card and let Lucifer try to call a non-existent line. Instead he’d taken the time to write out his home number. That… meant something.

An idea sparked in the back of his mind, but no need for Charlie to know anything about it. “That sounds like an unfortunate position. You said your friend is having problems too?”

She nodded.

“I can see where we might need some extra hands, get both of them a job if they need.”

Charlie’s face lit up. “Really? Thank you!”

Lucifer had to bite his tongue; she was so radiant and not for the first or last time he deeply regretted not being in her life for so long. This time, however, he felt a curl of… of something toward Lilith for taking that from him. He’d spent so much time being confused and scared and sad - now he was angry. Lucifer didn’t think he’d ever hated anyone in his life, but now… That might be what this was.

“I just can’t understand how someone could do something like that,” someone said.

Feeling as though they’d been reading his mind Lucifer looked to the table beside them. Charlie followed his gaze.

“I know, and the radio today said they’re still pulling body parts up. It’s looking like this has been going on for a while.” The woman speaking looked disturbed, hands wringing together. “I know there are disappearances but everybody knows people come and go looking for work.”

The man across from her nodded sagely. “It’s normal for people to just vanish these days. I just can’t believe something like this has been going on and nobody noticed anything.”

“Excuse me, what’s been going on?”

Lucifer looked at Charlie, surprised by the intensity behind her question.

The couple looked up, clearly equally surprised. “You haven’t heard?” The man pulled a newspaper from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “They found body parts out in the swamp. At first it was just the one guy, but they started finding more, and this morning they pulled up some sort of bag with bones in it.”

Charlie’s eyes flicked over the article, steadily growing wider as she read. She stood abruptly, handing the paper back. “I’ve got to go,” she said.

“Charlie, wait-” Lucifer stood and followed her to the door.

“I’m sorry, I just- I have to get home. Alastor and Rosie-”

She seemed genuinely afraid. “Let me walk you there, if there’s a killer on the loose-”

This seemed to frighten her even more as she shook her head fervently. “No! No, I’ll be fine, it’s not far. I’m sorry, we can go out in a couple days, maybe to a film?”

“Uh, sure, that’s fine, but are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

“No, thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you later.” Without waiting for further protest she turned, all but running down the dark street.

Lucifer frowned and watched her go before returning to his table. The couple looked at him in confusion.

“Is she okay?”

He shrugged. “I think she’s just freaked out. May I see that paper?”

“Be my guest,” the man said and handed it over.

Lucifer’s stomach dropped as he read the headline.

MULTIPLE DISMEMBERED BODIES FOUND - SERIAL KILLER ON THE LOOSE.

Chapter Text

This could not have happened at a worse time. Alastor had done very little the last several days other than read and reread every article he could find about the discovered bodies - his bodies, that he’d been so confident were well and truly hidden. From what he could gather they’d found a different body not far from his own dumping ground, and their investigations led them to some of the remains the swamp hadn’t swallowed. Years worth of carpet bags filled with soil and bones. A misplaced knife - one Alastor was certain did not belong to him, as he’d immediately checked his supply upon reading about it.

Of course it was Angel’s. Or, Angel had used it when he killed and attempted to dismember his attacker. Attempted poorly it seemed, since it had been discovered so quickly despite how deep in the bayou it had been. How unfortunate the thug had taken him so close to Alastor’s dumping ground.

It certainly made cleaning up the whole mess all the more complicated.

Alastor was furious of course. Had he not already agreed to help Angel he would have left the boy to dry and found a way to pin all the murders on him. Whether or not he was old enough to have committed the older murders was irrelevant; even if they found anything from the early years those would most certainly be degraded enough to be inadmissible.

Or so Alastor thought. He didn’t dare look further into it; not with all eyes on the incident. Viewership for his show increased, however. Everybody wanted to tune in for the latest updates and Alastor was happy to give it to them. If he had a tad more information than the other sources… it was never enough to be suspicious. He was very careful to toe the line.

The show did turn out to be a bright spot. The bid closed the day after the serial killer story broke and Alastor was surprised to find another company had swooped in and outbid VoxTech at the last moment. He’d laughed for several minutes when he heard; he could imagine Vox’s face turning puce with rage at being thwarted once again. Another win for the Hartfelts. Alastor had never heard of the company that took over and he didn’t have time to look into them at the moment. All he needed to know was that his show was safe and, as an added bonus, he got a raise.

He’d made his maman’s gumbo in celebration, and even Charlie didn’t question what meat he chose to use for it.

Despite the risk, Alastor still needed to work out how to clean up Angel’s mess and keep him out of the detectives’ eyes. That meant tracking down anyone who might know he’d been with the victim that night - and that meant stalking Valentino’s goons on a side of town he rarely went to. He didn’t dare drive; better to walk and be able to slip quietly away when needed than draw more attention to himself. He could always call Rosie to pick him up if he needed.

Shortly after lunch, while Alastor’s current target was smoking on the corner, a flash of blond hair caught his attention. He shouldn’t be surprised to see Lucifer here; it was a more affluent neighborhood after all, and hopefully that meant he was about on his own business and not following him again. That would be hard to explain.

Alastor slipped back into a narrow alleyway to watch him. Lucifer stood in front of the theater, clearly watching for someone, and Alastor couldn’t help a lurch of jealousy in his stomach at the thought that the man might have other friends to spend time with.

Him, jealous? What a ridiculous notion.

He’d just about made up his mind to approach when an even more familiar figure appeared around the corner and Alastor’s blood ran cold. Betrayal lanced through his chest, quickly curdling into anger as Charlie walked straight to Lucifer and the pair disappeared into the theater. Alastor’s face twisted into a snarl. His heart hammered. How long had this been going on? His mind raced to find the moment his daughter - his daughter - started to slip away, and when Lucifer had stabbed him in the back.

That was what he got for making friends. The only people who could betray you were the ones you trusted, and Alastor had clearly misplaced that trust. He was a fool to think Lucifer would uphold his end of their deal. Of course he wouldn’t stay away from Charlie; this whole game of friendship was a distraction meant to keep Alastor from suspecting anything.

They’d just had a nice dinner the other night. Neither asked any uncomfortable questions. They talked about work and the working conditions within factories - Lucifer was considering ways to make work better from those under his employ and at the time Alastor had been charmed. He’d allowed himself to be charmed, to fall into complacency. Somewhere along the line he’d forgotten Lucifer was an enemy.

He should have just killed the man the moment he bumbled back into their lives.

Alastor found the nearest payphone.

“Hartfelt residence, Rosie speaking!”

“Rosie,” Alastor said, seething, “do you know where Charlie is right now?”

“Helping Angel move, why?”

“I just watched her walk into a theater.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I imagine she wasn’t alone,” Rosie said, tone far too knowing.

“Did you know about this?” Alastor snarled. “Did you know she was seeing him?”

“Seeing who, darling?”

“Lucifer,” he hissed.

Rosie paused again. “Lucifer Lucifer, her father?”

“Yes!”

“Oh dear,” Rosie said softly. “Do you know how she found him? Or perhaps he found her?”

Alastor scowled. “So you didn’t know?”

“Gracious no!” He knew her well enough to imagine her placing a hand on her chest in offense. “I wouldn’t have kept something so important from you.”

“I would hope not,” he said, calming enough to stop and think for a moment. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Is that wise?” Rosie asked. The amusement in her voice made Alastor’s eye twitch. “Now we know Charlie is most certainly aware of him. If something happens to him, what will she think?”

Alastor growled. “What, then?”

“Well there’s only one thing to do,” she said. “Invite him over for dinner.”

“Absolutely not!”

Rosie laughed. “Alastor, there’s nothing else we can do! Unless you intend to pretend you never saw them and ignore the situation.”

Alastor made a strangled noise.

“I thought not. Bring him for dinner tonight. I’ll cook.”

“Fine,” Alastor snapped, then a slow grin spread over his face. “Liver and onions tonight, please.”

“Alright,” she said amenably. “I’m sure you’re almost out of time. I’ll see you soon.”

He hung up and glared at the phone for a long moment. How did they meet? There was something else afoot, he was certain. Perhaps he needed to have a word with Husker - the meddling bastard might know more than he’d been letting on.

Somewhat mollified, he returned to the theater.

Alastor waited longer than expected, but he was good at waiting. He’d sat for the better part of a day when watching prey; he could stand in the shadows for an hour and a half waiting for his daughter and her father to emerge. Should they come out separately he would follow Lucifer just to see him jump. Should they come out together… He grit his teeth.

Liver. Rosie is making liver and onions.

Finally his patience paid off and the pair emerged together. Neither saw him, so preoccupied were they with jabbering about the film. It was far easier than it should have been for Alastor to slip behind them unnoticed. It wasn’t until they were across the street and far enough from enterprising ears that Alastor stepped up directly behind them and dropped a hand on their shoulders. “My my, what a surprise to see you here!” he said cheerfully, swallowing down a laugh as the pair jumped and whirled around. It was almost disconcerting, how alike they looked, with wide golden eyes and flushed cheeks that drained of all color in moments.

“Dad!” Charlie exclaimed the same moment Lucifer said, “Alastor!”

Alastor allowed Charlie to step away but his grip on Lucifer’s shoulder only tightened and the man stilled. “Why Charlie,” he said in mock offense, “I thought you said you were helping Angel move his things!”

She flushed. “I- I was, I just-”

Alastor tsked. “You should know better. What is it Rosie says? ‘It always comes out in the end,’ no? And you,” he looked at Lucifer, smile growing wider as the man trembled. “I see you met my darling daughter!”

He heard Lucifer swallow. “I, ah, can explain-”

“Oh I’m sure!” Alastor laughed. “Now you've been acquainted with my darling Charlie we simply must have you for dinner.”

Charlie squeaked and looked like she was about to jump in, but a sharp look from Alastor was enough to silence her.

“Oh, no, that’s okay, I wouldn’t want to impose-” Lucifer said, again trying to back away and failing as Alastor’s nails dug into his clavicle.

“He really does need to get home-” Charlie tried again, but again her teeth clicked shut under her adoptive father’s manic smile.

“Nonsense! Rosie is counting on it! She’s making liver and onions. We wouldn’t want any to go to waste, now, would we?”

Lucifer made a choked sort of noise. Charlie grimaced.

“Come now,” Alastor said, tone overly-friendly. He steered Lucifer around and beckoned to Charlie. “Let’s not leave dear Rosie waiting! Dinner should be waiting by the time we get home.”

As Alastor pushed him forward Lucifer made one last effort to twist away, only to hiss in pain.

Alastor leaned down to murmur in his ear. “Try to run again, and I really will draw blood.”

Like a man walking to the gallows, Lucifer complied.

Chapter Text

When Rosie hung up the phone she immediately got to work. She didn't start cooking right away; dinner needed to still be warm when they all arrived and unless Alastor decided to drag their daughter out of the theater - which he wouldn't, if he wished to avoid a scene - they wouldn't be home for two hours at least. That gave her time to straighten up the place.

Rosie kept a tidy home, but she took the time to dust and sweep, then checked all the locks on the doors and windows and drew the shades. She made sure all their emergency knives were in place, well hidden but easily accessible for those that knew where they were.

She didn't want this to end in violence if for no other reason than should it do so, they would lose Charlie forever, but she also knew Alastor would choose to protect them no matter what and if Lucifer was going to be difficult, he was going to be dead.

Once she finished she checked the time again and decided it was close enough to start on dinner.

She had just barely set the dish on the counter when she heard voices out front. Rosie quickly set aside her hot pads and apron and stood in the kitchen doorway, looking down the hallway to the front door. It opened.

The first one through was a small man she hadn’t seen in person but knew through newspaper photos and the odd television interview when she was out with a beau. He was far shorter in real life and far paler than the grays and blacks of print made him look - though that may have been due to the hand still firmly clamped on his shoulder and the thunderous expression of the man attached to it. Charlie was right behind him, eyes downcast and appearing thoroughly chastised. Rosie pursed her lips and folded her arms. The girl’s night was only just beginning.

As if sensing the disapproval Charlie looked up and caught Rosie’s eye, and quickly looked to the side. “I already got it from Al,” she mumbled sourly.

“And you’re going to keep hearing about it, young lady. Get your butt in here and set the table.” Rosie turned her gaze to the pair of men stepping aside to allow the girl to pass. She looked over Lucifer, who flushed under her gaze, before raising a brow at Alastor. “Well? Where are your manners? Are you going to introduce us?”

Alastor’s expression soured further. “Rosie, this is Lucifer. Lucifer, this is my wife, Rosie,” he said stiffly.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Lucifer said, hesitantly taking Rosie’s offered hand and brushing his lips over her knuckles. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now,” she said gleefully, looking back up at Alastor with a glint in her eye.

“Charlie speaks very fondly of you,” Lucifer hurriedly added.

Rosie smiled sharply and noted the shudder that ran through their guest. “And I am very fond of her. Please, come in! We mustn’t stand in the entry all evening. I’ve just finished dinner.”

The men hung their coats and followed Rosie to the table, where Charlie had set out places and silverware and was just arranging napkins. Alastor gestured for Lucifer to take the corner seat, much to Rosie’s amusement; it meant she or her husband would be between him and any exit - and across from Charlie.

“Mom-” Charlie started, but Rosie shot her a sharp look and she dropped her gaze again, accepting the dish and beginning to dish out. Her nose wrinkled slightly, but she wisely didn’t complain.

Rosie blessed the food and they began eating.

Lucifer was the one to break the tense silence. “I’m not usually a fan of liver and onions, but this is very good, Mrs. Hartfelt.”

Rosie giggled. “Oh, a charmer! But you can just call me Rosie.”

Lucifer’s eyes cut to Alastor, who was astutely ignoring him, and then gave Rosie a weak smile. “Then I must insist you call me Lucifer.”

Charlie chewed her lip, looking like she wanted to say something. Rosie and Alastor both caught this and looked at her. Alastor’s eyes narrowed and his smile sharpened.

Her lip wobbled. “I didn’t mean to sneak around behind your back,” she finally said.

“Really now! You could have fooled me,” Alastor said, voice falsely cheerful. “Between disobedience and deliberately lying to Rosie I never would have been able to tell!”

Charlie winced and glanced at the woman in question. “Sorry, Mom,” she said quietly.

Lucifer made a quiet noise but nobody acknowledged him. Rosie’s smile mirrored her husband’s; Charlie could talk her way out of trouble with ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ most of the time, but this wasn’t one of them. “We can talk about it later,” she said, “but you know I am extremely disappointed in your behavior of late.”

Frustration flickered over the girl’s face but she nodded and focused back on her plate.

Lucifer cleared his throat. “It- it’s not her fault,” he said, setting his fork down. “It’s mine.”

For the first time since sitting down to eat, Alastor looked at him. Something other than anger flicked deep in his eyes. This went beyond the disobedience of their daughter and Rosie suspected she knew who it was her husband had been secretly meeting with. She looked at Lucifer, eyebrows raised. He was a very busy man.

“Is it,” Alastor said flatly.

Lucifer glanced at him then quickly away, tugging at his collar. “Ah, yes.”

“Do enlighten me,” Alastor said, voice saccharine. “How long have you stalked my daughter?”

Once again red deepend high on pale cheekbones. “I didn’t, we just-”

“I was waiting for him,” Charlie blurted, and once again all eyes turned to her. “I overheard Uncle Husk telling you someone was at the Hellfire every night and I wanted to-”

“Charlie,” Lucifer said reproachfully.

How sweet of him, Rosie thought, to try and keep her out of trouble, as though she were ever truly in danger of harm. It was his own skin he should be worrying over, and trying to deflect from Charlie was only digging his grave deeper.

“Just stop!” Charlie said, eyes filling with tears of frustration. “I don’t understand why you’re going through all this effort. Why am I suddenly good enough now when you didn’t want me then?”

Rosie winced. Shit.

“What?” Lucifer asked, brow furrowing. “Of course I want you. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Alastor said-” Charlie abruptly cut herself off. Both she and Lucifer slowly turned to face him, realization dawning on their faces. Rosie gave Alastor a flat look but refrained from speaking.

“You told her what?”

“How else was I supposed to keep her from finding you?” Alastor said blandly. “Charlie is both curious and intelligent. I had to tell her something.”

“You- you knew? This whole time you knew who my dad was?”

“Of course,” Alastor said.

Charlie swelled. “Why? Why didn’t you give me back?”

“Charlie,” Alastor said calmly, “where did I find you?”

“In the bay- the bayou…” Her eyes grew wide with understanding, and then she grew even angrier. She launched to her feet, chair skittering across the floor behind her. Rosie bit her tongue. “That’s why? So I wouldn’t rat on you? I didn’t even see anything!”

Alastor also stood, hands clasped behind his back. “You saw me. What was I supposed to do? You were a child. We have rules.”

Rosie wondered if she should remind them they had an audience; Lucifer looked between the pair, somewhere between confused and angry. Charlie might accidentally doom him simply by not watching her mouth.

Tears shone in Charlie’s eyes and it took everything in Rosie not to speak. Charlie had always been a daddy’s girl, and this was between her and Alastor. Rosie had warned him.

To his credit he stood resolute, hands still behind his back. The only sign he was disturbed was a small twitch in his left eye - a tell Charlie was sure to notice, even if Lucifer didn’t.

“So you’ve kept me- kept me away from my father, so I wouldn’t be a witness?” Charlie raged. “I could have had a normal childhood! I could have gone to school, a proper school!”

Rosie’s spine stiffened and she inhaled sharply as hurt lanced through her.

“I would have had so many opportunities that I’ve been denied, all for having someone like you for a father!”

Alastor flinched.

“Charlie!” Rosie gasped.

Quickly regaining composure Alastor coldly said, “I’m sorry to have so deprived you of a good life by the misfortune of my ancestry.”

Charlie’s face twisted and she opened her mouth but didn’t get the chance to speak.

“Apologize,” Lucifer said quietly.

All eyes turned to him. He was staring calmly at his daughter. He slowly stood, hands on the table.

“He is your father and my friend and you will not speak to him like that. Apologize.”

Charlie glanced between the two. “You- you’re friends?” Rather than inspiring remorse this seemed to anger her further. “You’re friends and you still kept us apart?”

“Are we?” Alastor said, icy voice melting into a sneer as he looked at Lucifer. “Are we friends? I suppose we must have been. Only the people you trust to show your back to can stab it.”

Lucifer’s face flushed. “Y-you’re one to talk!”

Alastor raised a brow. “The only promise that I have broken is to remove your liver from your pathetic body and feed it to you.” He gestured to the table, grin glittering with malice, and suddenly his request made sense. If the situation weren’t so grave Rosie might have laughed.

Lucifer swallowed. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “That was a joke anyway,” he said weakly.

Before Alastor could respond, Charlie exploded again. “You threatened him?”

Alastor returned his attention to her. “To stay away from you.”

Charlie stared at him for a long moment. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Charlie-” Alastor stepped forward.

“I hate you!” she screamed before turning and fleeing the room.

“Charlie!” Alastor called, but the front door slammed like a gunshot. He staggered. Rosie leapt to his side, only releasing his arm when he’d stumbled back and leaned heavily on the counter.

“We have to go after her!” Lucifer said, having already come around the table.

“She’s safe,” Alastor said, one hand swiping over his face.

“But there’s a serial killer somewhere out there, she might-”

“She is safe,” Alastor repeated. His voice was strained, resigned, as he met Lucifer’s gaze.

They stared at each other for a long moment as realization slowly dawned on Lucifer, face growing pale. “Y-you?”

Alastor smiled, but it lacked its usual edge. “Did you think my threat was idle?”

Lucifer’s throat bobbed. “Charlie knows?”

“Of course.”

The shade of red Lucifer’s face turned was startling in comparison to its previous pallor. “You kidnapped my daughter and then turned her into a murderer?”

Rosie laughed. Both men looked at her in surprise. “Of course not, silly!” she giggled. “Charlie has never taken a life, merely… helped clean up.”

“That- that doesn’t make it better!”

Alastor hummed. “Doesn’t it, though?”

“I should report you,” Lucifer muttered.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, his smile sharpening, and Rosie tensed. Whatever his play, she would back it.

Lucifer groaned and dropped heavily into Charlie’s vacant chair. His elbows thunked onto the table, face buried in his hands. “What now?”

The tension in the room eased. Rosie and Alastor shared a look. “It’s up to you,” she murmured.

“No, it isn’t,” he said, just as quietly. “It’s up to Charlie.”

—----

Alastor knew all of Charlie’s haunts. He’d checked at Vaggie’s and with Husker and Angel, and Nifty and Mimsy. That left one place. She was there, tucked under a small window ledge behind an abandoned schoolhouse. A lot of transients slept inside, but none of them ever seemed to bother Charlie.

She sat with her knees pulled into her chest, chin resting on arms folded atop them, staring straight ahead. The only acknowledgment she gave him as he sat beside her was to turn her face away. He leaned against the chilled brick, one leg extended before him and the other pulled up like hers. He draped an arm across his knee and waited.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Alastor spoke. “I told him to stay away from you because I didn’t want to lose you.”

Charlie sniffed.

“Yes, we initially kept you because we felt we had no other choice, but you have a way of worming your way into hearts - even dead ones.”

“Your heart’s not dead,” she said quietly.

Alastor chuckled. “Perhaps not. You breathed a little life back into it.”

She peeked at him.

“Do you remember the first time you called me ‘dad’?”

She shook her head.

“It was a couple months after I brought you home. You’d had a nightmare.” His mouth curled at the memory. “You snuck into my room and asked if you could sleep in my bed.”

“Did you let me?”

Alastor nodded, humming with amusement. “Rosie nearly lost her mind when she went to wake you and you were gone. She fell in love with you instantly, you know.”

“She did?”

“Mhm. Well… after she scolded me for bringing you home in the first place.”

Charlie gave a watery laugh. “She cried when I called her mom.”

Alastor had laughed at her for that, and then spent the next week watching his back and worrying she might poison his dinner.

“You fell into the water when I found you.”

Wide golden eyes blinked at him.

“You ran from me, straight into the water, and fought me when I pulled you out. There was a bruise on your arm where I’d grabbed you - Rosie scolded me for that too.”

“You… pulled me out?”

Alastor inclined his head.

“It would have solved your problems if the alligators ate me.”

“It would have,” he conceded, “but the thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

Charlie sniffed. His chest still ached at the thought that she resented him for his race, after spending so long trying to give her the best he could despite it, but she was his daughter and he hated to see her hurt. Slowly, so she could pull away if she wished, Alastor wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She crumpled into his side, turning to bury her face in his shirt as she began sobbing. He brought up his other hand to pat her head and let her cry.

When her sobs turned to hiccups and her hiccups faded back into sniffles, Alastor said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said. “I don’t hate you.”

A beat, and then, “Do you want to go with him?”

For a terrible, awful moment Charlie paused, then shook her head, cheek scratching on Alastor’s jacket. “I don’t… really know him,” she said. “I want to. He’s my dad… but so are you.” She tilted her head to look up at him. “You and Rosie took care of me and no matter how it started out, you’re my parents.”

Alastor softened, the ache easing, if only a little.

“And… I want him to know me, but I’m scared. I don’t want him to know what we do, and Rosie says it always comes out in the end.”

Alastor remained silent.

Charlie must have felt something in him tense because she sat up and faced him fully. “Dad? You didn’t tell him, right?”

He grimaced. “He guessed.”

“Wh- but how?”

“We weren’t exactly subtle tonight, and you did use the word ‘witness.’”

Tears once again threatened to spill from her eyes. “What-”

Alastor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He asked what’s next.”

“And?”

“I said that’s up to you.”

“That's not fair.”

He shrugged. “I can’t make you stay, should you decide you don’t want to.”

Charlie scrubbed at her face with her palms, leaving dirty tracks across her cheeks. Alastor tugged his kerchief from his pocket and gently wiped it away.

“If you want him to come around more, I… am not opposed.” Alastor had in fact grown to somewhat enjoy the silly man’s company, even if he wouldn’t confess so even under torture. Even if he was absolutely furious with him for this betrayal, and he would be getting answers.

She once again peeked at him. “You…don’t?”

“I clearly cannot keep him away from you,” Alastor said, amused, “even under threat of violence.”

Charlie gave him a disappointed frown. “Did you really tell him you’d make him eat his liver?”

Alastor hummed, smiling faintly. “I did.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We had liver for dinner.”

The smile brightened. “So we did! What a coincidence!”

“Ugh, you are the worst,” Charlie said, but it held fondness. She sighed. “I should apologize to Rosie.”

“Yes, you should.”

She bit her lip.

Alastor squeezed her once before releasing her. He stood and brushed himself off before offering her a hand. “Shall we go home? Lucifer refuses to leave until he knows you're safe.”

She accepted the hand, bouncing slightly as he pulled her to her feet. “Is that why you came looking for me?”

“I found you because you’re my daughter and I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Her eyes shone. She flung her arms around Alastor and buried her face in his chest. “I’m sorry I said I hate you,” she mumbled into his shirt. “I didn’t mean it, I love you, Dad, and-”

Alastor rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “I know, my dear,” he said gently. “You were angry. I’m sorry I lied.” Also a lie, but who was counting?

She sniffed, trying to stymie the renewed flow of tears.

“It’s okay darling. Let it out.”

It took several more minutes for Charlie to pull away and wipe her face on her sleeve. She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

She’d called him ‘dad’ more frequently in the last few months than ever before. It was… nice, to have that affirmation that she still wanted him to be.

“Alright, enough of that. Let’s go home.”

Charlie rolled her eyes but took his hand and they set off together.

Chapter Text

Lucifer still sat in the chair previously occupied by his daughter, head in his hands, when Alastor left to go find her. Lucifer had offered, but both Hartfelts insisted it would be best for her adoptive father to bring her home. Lucifer knew Alastor was hurt by her words no matter how well he hid it, but he trusted the man - despite learning such a terrible thing about him.

Rosie began clearing their plates, half-eaten dinner already growing cold. Lucifer looked up. “Oh, let me help with that,” he said, jumping up, only to be stopped in his tracks by a firm look.

“Now what kind of host would I be if I allowed you to work? You sit right there and relax.”

Her tone was so firm Lucifer hastily obeyed without even a token argument.

“What would you like to drink?”

Lucifer blinked at her. “Oh um,” he paused. He'd been about to say ‘water,’ but given the night's events, and that it wasn't likely to get any better, he said, “I'm sure Alastor has some of that good Rye somewhere; I'll have a couple fingers of that, if it's no trouble?”

Rosie’s eyes glittered and for some reason Lucifer felt he'd said something wrong. “No trouble at all, darlin’!” She said cheerfully, quickly pouring him a drink and placing it before him. “You two been friends long?”

“Erm, I don't know the correct answer to that,” he said. “I don't want to end up dead.”

She laughed. “Oh I won't kill you, silly! The correct answer is the truth.”

He eyed her. “No offense, ma'am, it's not you I'm worried about.”

Rosie paused her washing and turned to look at him, her sharp smile sending a chill down Lucifer’s spine. “You should be,” she said sweetly, and it was eerie how much she sounded like Alastor had earlier that night. “Alastor is not the only killer in this house, and I specialize.”

Two. There's two serial killers in New Orleans, and nobody knew. Lucifer swallowed hard. Took a drink. Drummed his fingers on the table. And I'm sitting in their fucking house. Willingly.

“If I wanted to leave, would you let me?” Lucifer asked.

Rosie's smile returned to a more genuine look. “Oh of course I would, sweetie. Alastor says you don't belong on the List, and he does his research. Besides, if he planned on killin’ ya he would have done so by now.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Lucifer asked wearily. “Surely it would be better for me to know as little as possible.”

“I suppose.” Rosie turned back to the sink. “I don't think you're going to turn us in.”

Lucifer sighed. She was right. He should. The police would believe him, and he'd get his daughter back - and in the process he'd probably lose her. Even if she escaped the law itself he didn't think she would forgive him for sending the people who raised her to what was sure to be a death sentence.

They were quiet for a while, Lucifer sipping his Rye while Rosie finished the dishes and settled across the table with her knitting.

“Soooo,” Lucifer said, deciding to ask about something that has been nagging at him. “Al said your marriage was one of convenience.”

She smiled up at him. “It is!”

“You don't… love each other?”

“Of course we do!” Rosie said without hesitation. “In our own way. Alastor is my best friend. The only constant in my life - until Charlie came along - and I would be absolutely devastated if something were to happen to him. We may not love each other romantically, but we will do anything to protect our family.” She looked up at him, serious as the grave. “Anything. Even if it means breaking our rules.”

Lucifer took a deep drink to hide his nervous swallow. “Rules?”

“Mhmm,” Rosie hummed, returning to her knitting, and Lucifer only just realized how sharp those needles were. “We have a list. I personally target wealthy single white men,” she shot him a conspiratorial wink and he blushed, “and Alastor… well, you'd have to ask him about it.”

Lucifer stared into his glass, swirling the remaining liquid inside as he mulled this over. “I doubt I'd get any straight answers,” he mumbled.

Rosie laughed. “Probably not.”

“And… what about Charlie?”

“What about her?”

Lucifer set aside his glass, which caught Rosie’s attention. She looked up and met his gaze. “What does she do? How is she involved?”

Rosie hesitated a moment, the first time all night. “She helps clean up,” she said carefully.

“...And what does that mean?”

Again she was quiet for a moment, though her expression never changed. “I'm sure Alastor will demand answers from you, too,” she said, returning to her knitting, and Lucifer groaned in frustration. Before he could complain she continued, “If you make him a deal, offer him answers in return for some of his, he may give you more than he otherwise would.”

Lucifer’s mouth closed with a click. He thought about it. Alastor had used the word ‘deal’ before. He hummed and leaned back in his seat. Rosie smiled faintly without looking up again.

It wasn't long after that the front door opened and Lucifer shot to his feet. Charlie came into the kitchen closely followed by Alastor. She looked at her feet.

“Sorry,” she said quietly.

Setting aside her project Rosie stood. She wrapped her arms around Charlie, who returned the embrace, fists clenched in the back of Rosie’s blouse. They held on for what felt like several minutes before Rosie kissed the top of Charlie’s head and released her. She gave Alastor a pointed look, then disappeared down the hallway.

Lucifer stared at his daughter, heart in his throat, unsure what to say. He wanted to hug her too, was glad she was safe, had so many questions.

She looked up at him and damn, if she didn't look just as apprehensive as he felt. “I uh, I'm sorry for leaving.”

“Are you okay?”

The corner of her mouth lifted but if it was a grimace or smile he couldn't tell. She nodded. “Are… you?”

“Yeah,” he said, still feeling as though he was standing on a precipice.

“Do you, uh,” she glanced at Alastor, who raised a brow at her and said nothing, “do you want to come back for dinner this weekend?”

Relief flooded through him. He nodded emphatically, cursing the tears welling in his eyes even as Alastor rolled his. Before he could think about it too hard Lucifer stepped forward and wrapped his daughter in a crushing hug. She startled but quickly returned it with a sniffle.

“That's enough of that,” Alastor said, tapping Charlie on the head. “Off to bed young lady. We'll discuss your grounding in the morning.”

She spun on him, eyes wide. ”Grounding?”

Alastor's brow rose again. “We don't tolerate disrespect in this household. I am willing to be lenient given the circumstances, but I need to discuss it with Rosie and you're not getting off scott-free.”

Charlie looked like she wanted to argue for a moment. She glanced at Lucifer, who remained silent, and then her shoulders slumped. “Okay,” she said glumly. Charlie hugged Alastor, who bore it with a patient smile and patted her back, and then she wished them goodnight and followed after Rosie.

Awkward silence fell over the kitchen. Lucifer fidgeted, tapping his leg. “Weeeeell, I should probably head out-”

“Dinner tomorrow night,” Alastor said.

“What?”

Alastor smiled, strained, teeth gritting. “Meet me at the Hellfire at seven tomorrow evening.”

Lucifer swallowed. “Not- not Sidewinder? Didn't you want to keep… this… a secret?”

“There's hardly a point anymore, is there?” Alastor said, his voice clipped, and boy had he been doing a good job hiding his rage until Charlie left. “Since you broke our deal anyway.”

Lucifer grimaced. “That's not-”

“Give me your excuses tomorrow. I am too tired to deal with you tonight. Feel free to call someone to pick you up, then get out.” Alastor dismissively waved his hand towards the phone on the wall even as he turned away, like he was too disgusted to even look at Lucifer.

Despair sank cold and heavy in Lucifer’s gut. He'd been so focused on Charlie this evening he hadn't given much thought to the consequences he'd face within his friendship with Alastor. “R-right,” he said faintly.

Alastor didn't even wait. He too vanished down the hall. Lucifer heard a door slam. He stood quiet for a moment before calling his driver. He wasn't even sure of the address; he just told him to meet him at Hellfire. That he could get to from here.

When Lucifer turned around again he made an undignified noise upon finding Rosie leaning in the doorway, arms folded, smiling without emotion.

“I'm just leaving,” he said.

“I know!” She said, far more chipper than her expression warranted.

She didn't say another word as he cautiously slipped past her, only waved when he bid her goodnight. He heard the front door lock behind him.

Somehow, out in the night air, Lucifer felt even more unsafe than inside with two serial killers.

He groaned and scrubbed his face.

How did his life get to be this complicated?

—--------

Lucifer stood outside the club for an embarrassingly long time. He’d arrived early but if he waited much longer he was going to be late, and if Alastor was already inside, he might think…

Well. He didn't want to dig himself a deeper hole; he just hoped he wasn't already six feet deep and didn't know it yet.

Steeling himself, Lucifer pushed into the club. It was busy and the low din of conversation almost drowned out the panic growing in the back of his mind. He wasn't truly concerned Alastor would kill him; he thought he'd feel it in his bones if he was in danger. Instinct or something like that.

The moment he was down the steps Lucifer made eye contact with Husker, whose eyes went wide. He frantically shook his head, but Lucifer made his way to the bar anyway. Angel perched on a stool, looking as though he'd seen a ghost. “Hey Short King,” he said nervously.

“Why do you call me that?”

He shrugged.

“You shouldn't be here,” Husker said in a low, urgent voice. “Not tonight. Go to a different club, or better yet go home.”

Lucifer looked at Husker. Sweat beaded on his brow and his fingers had a faint tremor as he wiped the countertop. Lucifer sighed. “I'm afraid I'm meeting somebody.”

“Pick somewhere else.”

Shaking his head, Lucifer looked back at Angel. “Charlie tells me you're looking for a new job,” he said instead of arguing.

“Don't talk about her here!” Husker hissed at the same time Angel leaned back and said “Who’s Charlie?”

Lucifer gave him a flat look. “I can get you a job,” he said.

Angel blinked. “You can?”

“Of course I can,” Lucifer said, growing exasperated. Why were they acting so weird? “I own half the factories in the state.”

Angel's jaw hit the floor. Husker cursed under his breath. “I knew you were rich,” Angel said, “but I didn't know you were rich rich! What're ya doin’ hanging around us?”

Lucifer once again sighed heavily. “Because I want to,” he said. “I can get you a factory job if you want, or I'm sure I can find something in my household if you'd prefer. My cook might like some extra hands, or perhaps my gardener…”

“Whatever you need,” Angel said eagerly. “Whatever I can start soonest.”

Wow. He really did need a new job.

“I'll talk to my staff and have Charlie get in touch.”

Once again Husker hissed at him, then stiffened and took a step back.

Before Lucifer could finally ask what the hell, a deep voice behind him purred, “Good evening, Lucifer.”

—----

Alastor was tired. It was the only explanation. Between working overtime at the station and calling in some favors to maintain his assets through the stock market crash, he barely had time to do anything, let alone sleep. And then, of course, Mimsy had to go and get herself into trouble again and make a mess.

To be fair to her, this one really wasn’t her fault. She’d just been working, and some man decided he was entitled to whatever he wanted.

As good as he was at cleaning up after Mimsy, Alastor couldn’t keep this mess from getting bigger.

“Alastor?”

He stood up straight, back stiff, frozen in place as though she might not see him if he didn’t move. Of course it was in vain.

“What- what-”

He turned slowly, a pained smile fixed to his face. His mind raced. What could he do? She’d seen. He couldn’t just kill her, but he couldn’t let her get to the police-

Charlie stumbled forward, face pale, trying to peer around Alastor. She took in the scene, the pooling blood and partially dismembered corpse, the first cuts of meat set neatly on butcher’s paper waiting to be wrapped.

Maybe he could find an explanation that would appease her, some lie to protect them without losing her. She was still a child, perhaps there was still enough innocence there-

Golden eyes flicked between him, the knife in his hand, and the body.

No. She was old enough now.

“Is… is that the man who hurt Mimsy?” she said quietly.

Alastor nodded.

Charlie looked again at the neat cuts set aside. “You’ve done this before.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“Does Rosie know?”

“Yes.”

She was silent for another agonizingly long time before rolling up her sleeves and stepping to the prepared cuts. To Alastor’s immense surprise, she began wrapping them.

“What are you doing?”

“Wrapping your weird trophies,” she said.

Alastor blinked. “Why?”

“Is there something else I should be doing?” She glanced at the corpse and quickly away again. “I don’t know what to do with that, but I can wrap a cut of meat.”

For the first time in his adult life Alastor couldn’t help but keep running his mouth. “You’re not going to report us to the police?”

She scowled at him. “You and Rosie raised me. Sending you both to the chair seems like poor repayment.”

Alastor was about to tell her they didn’t want repayment, but he finally regained control of his tongue. He nodded once, and went back to work.

Charlie worked silently beside him, helped him load the spare parts, and went with him to the bayou. She hesitated at the edge of the trees, apprehension on her face.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I know,” Charlie said, a little too quickly, but her expression relaxed and she followed him in.

It was well after dark by the time they got home. Rosie was beside herself with worry and scolded the both of them for not warning her that Charlie would be with him, and then more for involving her. Upon trying to explain that Alastor hadn’t exactly planned on involving her he got another earful about how lucky he was that nobody else stumbled across him while he was being a “careless muttonhead.”

Charlie didn’t bring it up again until the fridge began to look empty. She’d quietly asked if Alastor would be going ‘shopping’ again, and when he said he was she took a deep breath and started asking questions.

To her credit she never flinched from their awful truth. She asked to avoid eating their ‘special cuts,’ but seamlessly stepped in to assist where she could, short of taking a life.

Somewhere a glass broke. Alastor blinked and he was back in the present, sitting in a corner booth in the Hellfire, staring into a half-empty glass of Rye. He’d arrived an hour early just to see how Husker reacted and, predictably, he had feigned innocence, so now Alastor was waiting to see what he would do when Lucifer arrived. Assuming the idiot was actually brave enough to show up.

Ten past seven Lucifer finally walked down the stairs. Alastor propped his chin on the back of his hand, a slow smile creeping across his face. He couldn’t help but be a little pleased that Lucifer had come; not so easily scared, after all. But then, that was obvious, since the threat of forced autocannibalism wasn’t enough to keep him away from Charlie.

The reminder of just why they were having this meeting soured Alastor’s mood, his smile curdling. He finished his rye and made his way across the floor, stepping close enough to hear the bar’s conversation in time to catch Lucifer talking about Charlie. His smile sharpened, not least because of the look of horror on Husker’s face.

“Good evening, Lucifer,” Alastor purred.

Lucifer jumped and spun around. A hand pressed against his chest. “Jesus,” he said. “Was that necessary?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Indeed it was! Husker, be a good chap and refill this,” he added, reaching around Lucifer to place his glass on the counter. He all but had Lucifer boxed in against the bar, chest leaned in close to the shorter man’s face, and when he stepped back again Alastor resisted the urge to laugh at the dark flush in his cheeks.

Angel’s eyes flicked between them. “You two… know each other?”

“Erm, yeah,” Lucifer said.

Husker paused, Alastor’s glass only halfway filled, and looked up at them with wide eyes. He met Alastor’s gaze, who gave him a conspiratorial wink. Husker swallowed and quickly returned to his work. When he slid the glass back across the bar Alastor once again leaned in over Lucifer, just to see him fidget before stepping fully away.

“Shall we?” He gestured toward the table he’d left his jacket at. “I’ve saved us a seat.”

“Wait. You said you were meeting a friend,” Husker said, almost accusatory.

“Indeed I did!”

Lucifer looked up, eyes bright and bringing to mind a puppy. Disgusting. “Friend?”

Alastor raised a brow. “Is that not what you said?”

“No it is, I just, you said ‘was’ yesterday so I-” he paused, eyes flicking to Angel and Husker, who were both staring at them like each had grown a second head. Lucifer cleared his throat. “Anyway. Friend. Yeah. Husk, one of those apple martinis please?”

He hesitated far too long for Alastor’s liking. “Husker,” he said, and the sharpness in his voice caused the man to jump. He hurried to make the drink.

Angel was still staring at them. His gaze finally settled on Alastor. “You know.”

Alastor’s head cocked and his grin became something pointed and dangerous, eyes narrowing. “Know what, Angel?”

The kid’s gaze cut back to Lucifer for barely a second, as though he was trying to avoid looking at him and simply couldn’t. “Nothing,” he finally said.

“Interesting,” Alastor hummed.

“Here you go,” Husker said, passing Lucifer his order.

“Come on,” Lucifer said, accepting his drink and ushering Alastor away from the bar and the pair of men he’d been harassing. Alastor allowed him to do so, leading the way to the corner booth and sliding back into his seat. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Alastor asked innocently.

“Torment them.”

“It entertains me,” Alastor said, “and keeps them in line. But that’s not why I asked you here tonight.”

“Demanded, more like,” Lucifer muttered, glowering at the floor somewhere to his right.

Alastor watched him for a moment. His glass clinked as he set it down and folded his fingers together, elbows on the table. “You owe me an explanation.”

Lucifer looked at him, something peculiar in his expression. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No,” Lucifer said again, voice firm. “I think you owe me some answers of your own first.”

What an entitled little- Alastor grit his teeth, smile still firmly in place. “I don’t owe you anything. You broke our deal when you approached Charlie.”

“That’s not what happened!” Lucifer protested, cheeks reddening. “I- hold on. No.” His eyes narrowed and he brandished a finger at Alastor. “You’re trying to manipulate me into giving you what you want. Not this time. I will answer your questions only if you answer mine.”

Alastor stared at him. “No.”

Lucifer held his gaze unflinchingly. “Look, I’m being nice by not going to the police. The least you can do is enlighten me.”

“You may have already gone to the police and they have you here fishing for evidence. I never admitted to anything.”

Golden eyes glittered. “But Rosie did.”

It was a good thing Alastor was well practiced at keeping a neutral smile, because something a little like betrayal and a little like hurt surged through him. He was sure his eye twitched, but his mask remained otherwise in place.

When he didn’t respond Lucifer grimaced. “A question for a question, at least? I will explain what happened with Charlie if you explain your ‘rules.’”

“How do you know about that?” Alastor asked sharply before he could think about it. His teeth clicked with the force of his mouth closing.

Triumph brightened Lucifer’s eyes. “I told you. Rosie and I talked.”

“Then why do you need anything from me?” Alastor said through gritted teeth. He internally cursed Rosie; he would certainly be having words with her when he got home, but trying to change her mind or adjust her actions was about as worthwhile as trying to turn the sky purple.

“Because she wouldn't tell me everything. She said I needed to ask you.”

As frustrated as he was, when Alastor sighed it came out fond. His wife was most certainly a busybody and had a reason for everything she did - clearly teasing Lucifer with information was designed to make them talk about it. Whatever he game, Alastor could only sit back and play and see where it led. She would tell him eventually, if he didn’t figure it out before then. Perhaps she was merely trying to keep the family together; obviously Lucifer was going to be a regular presence going forward. It would only make sense to get him invested and keep him in line.

Alastor didn’t think he’d put his daughter at risk by taking things to the police. Not yet. And if Alastor could make him sympathetic toward their cause… well, he’d already proven himself to be a bleeding heart, hadn’t he?

“Ask your questions,” he said.

Lucifer brightened. “Really?”

“Yes. And then you will tell me the truth and explain why you broke my generous deal. If you’re lying, I will know.”

For a moment it looked as though Lucifer might make a comment, but he instead took a sip of his drink. “What’s ‘the List?’”

“A series of names I collect while reporting the news.”

“Specific,” Lucifer said flatly. “What did Rosie mean by I ‘don’t belong on the List?’ And your rules?”

Alastor lifted his glass, swirling it for a moment as he mulled over his answer. “I suppose you must first understand why I do what I do,” he said without looking up. “I’ve had this… hunger… since I was small. It started with small animals I could catch out in the bayou, and grew from there. I graduated to my current preference when my father beat my mother to death in our kitchen.”

Now his gaze flicked up to meet Lucifer’s, whose eyes had gone wide. All the blood had drained from his face, his martini forgotten between limp fingers against the table. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t know-”

“Don’t be,” Alastor said, almost gleeful as his grin widened. “His lessons in butchering came in handy, and for the first time in my life I didn’t have to worry about where my next meal was coming from for several weeks.”

Alastor was wrong. Now all the blood had drained from Lucifer’s face, his complexion turning a frankly alarming shade of gray. Well, alarming if Alastor cared.

“I must admit the flavor took some getting used to, but I was never quite satisfied with anything else after that,” Alastor continued, voice taking on an almost dream-like tone even though his gaze remained sharp and clear on the man opposite. “My next ‘grocery trip’ happened when I saw a man drag an escort from a bar and try to force her into his car. I never felt so alive.”

Here is eyes finally unfocused, his smile faltering. “Even then, I couldn’t forget my maman, and she didn’t raise a beast.” He once again looked at Lucifer, who remained enraptured by the tale, some color returning to his face. “I made myself a set of rules, requirements for the sort of ‘game’ I would take, and when, and I made a List.”

Lucifer’s throat bobbed. When he spoke his voice trembled. “...And I’m not on it?”

“No,” Alastor hummed, sipping his drink with wry amusement, “you’re not.”

“Why?” Lucifer’s brow furrowed. “You have every reason to want me dead.”

“Indeed. But what is the point of my rules if I break them for my own personal gain?”

Pale lips pursed. “I don’t understand.”

Alastor sighed, setting his drink on the table and giving his ‘friend’ an exasperated look. “You’re a good man, Lucifer. No matter how badly I might want to, I will not kill you.”

“But…” Lucifer grimaced. “But you do want to kill me.”

“Not anymore.”

“What changed?”

“I think that’s enough about me. I’ve explained my rules, now you explain why you broke our deal.”

Lucifer groaned in frustration, rubbing his temples, but sat back in his seat and dropped his hands to his lap. “I didn’t, really. I was here when Angel walked in. He started harassing me about going outside with him and when I tried to leave… she was at the corner, waiting.”

Several things fell into place and Alastor have a short laugh. It wasn’t particularly one of amusement, per se, but he wasn’t sure how else to react. He remembered finding her here that night, back in the twisting alleys behind the club, refusing to say what she’d been doing, and then his lunch with Lucifer the following day and his strange interest in her grounding. He’d been nervous at the time. Alastor couldn’t believe he didn’t see it.

“She staked out the club,” Alastor said, shaking his head. “Stubborn girl. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Lucifer flushed slightly. “Yes, well. I couldn’t exactly run away, could I? She’d sent him in after me, so we went behind the club, and she wanted to meet me another day, when-” he peeked up at Alastor and gave a light cough, eyes quickly darting away again. “When you weren’t looking for her.”

Alastor snorted.

When no response was forthcoming Lucifer risked a glance back. “You’re not… mad?”

“Absolutely furious,” Alastor said cheerfully, “but there’s not exactly anything I can do about it, now is there? What’s done is done.”

Lucifer grimaced. “So um… about the groceries part…?”

Alastor’s grin grew and he simply sipped his drink in lieu of an answer.

It was enough for Lucifer’s face to return to that oatmeal gray. “Y-you-” he spluttered.

Alastor cocked his head, still smiling brilliantly. “Oh don’t act so shocked,” he said pleasantly. “You’ve had it too.”

Lucifer blinked once.

“I couldn’t exactly feed you your own liver without killing you, you know,” he continued, as casual as if he were commenting on the weather, “so someone else had to suffice.”

Golden eyes went wide and he gagged, a hand flying to his mouth. “Y-you, but- but I didn’t-”

“If you throw up on this table Husker shall never forgive you,” Alastor sang, “and Rosie would be most devastated. You said you liked her dinner.” He plunked his chin on the back of his hand and feigned a pout. “Unless you’re a liar.”

Lucifer swallowed and took several deep breaths through his nose before slowly lowering his trembling hand. “You… are insane.”

“Hmm, probably,” he said, “but that doesn’t change much, does it.”

“Does Charlie…”

Alastor gave an exaggerated sigh. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Lucifer shuddered. “I don’t…”

“If it makes you feel better, she doesn’t like it very much,” Alastor allowed. He wondered if this would be enough to push Lucifer over the edge and send him scurrying to the police, if he would abandon his daughter because of the monster Alastor had made of her.

Lucifer rubbed his temples. “I am never eating anything cooked at your house ever again. And you can tell Rosie I said that.”

Alastor’s brows rose. “Really.”

“I’m not just going to eat knowing it might be-” he gagged again.

“That was not the source of my confusion.”

Lucifer glared at him, then his shoulders slumped. “I can’t do it. Not even knowing… that...” he dropped his head into his hands, tearing at his hair. “What have you done to me?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Lucifer groaned.

They lapsed into silence, Alastor sipping his drink and enjoying the faint buzz the alcohol gave him as he watched Lucifer struggle with himself. After several minutes Lucifer abruptly stood, downed the rest of his mostly-full glass, and strode purposefully toward the bar. Alastor watched him go. He wondered if he would have time to get Rosie and Charlie out of the house before the police arrived.

Before he could slip away, Lucifer had snatched a whisky glass and bottle from Husker and stomped back over to the table. Alastor silently watched as he poured himself a glass, shot it, and poured another. He raised a single questioning brow when Lucifer finally looked back up at him. Once again the dim bar lights reflected like fire off those honey-gold eyes.

“Why did you get Charlie involved?”

“I didn’t. Not intentionally. I never planned for her to know.” He finished the last couple swallows of his own glass and held it out. Lucifer obediently refilled it.

“How do you accidentally get a teenager mixed up in murder?”

Alastor sighed. “She wasn’t a teenager, not then. But I was careless and she followed me.”

The fire in Lucifer’s eyes brightened. “How old was she?”

For once Alastor’s silence was due to how wrong-footed he felt. He had very few regrets in his life and not taking more precautions that night was one of them. She never should have seen. He took a drink and looked away.

“Alastor,” Lucifer said, voice hard and steady despite the amount of alcohol he’d already had, “How. Old.”

“Twelve.”

The din of the bar nearly faded beneath the unfamiliar thumping of Alastor’s heart in his ears, filling the gap before Lucifer’s answer.

“Twelve?” Lucifer snarled, barely keeping his voice at a reasonable volume to avoid being overheard. “ A fucking twelve year old discovered you and you drew her into it?”

Alastor returned his gaze to Lucifer. “I already told you that Charlie is both curious and intelligent,” he reminded him. “She is also incredibly stubborn, as I'm sure you've discovered, and trying to tell her ‘no’ did not work.”

Not that he’d really tried to discourage her once she demanded to help. He’d understood the futility even then. Better he teach her than she run off on her own to prove she could do it.

“She has never taken a life herself,” he added when Lucifer didn’t speak.

“How the hell are you only being found out now?” the man said, incredulous.

Now Alastor got defensive, though he managed to keep his voice even. “The only reason anybody knows anything is because an amateur was sloppy and happened to use my dumping ground - and the police found it before I could clean it up.”

“Seriously? That's what you're going with. Someone else’s fault. Like some random person just coincidentally poorly disposed of a body in the same place you do.”

Alastor shrugged. “That's what happened. Believe me or don't, it was not my mistake that put us in danger.” He took a deep drink and swirled his glass. Not as nice as the rye he’d originally ordered, but he supposed it served its purpose.

Lucifer mirrored him as he thought over his next question. “Do you know who did it?”

“Yes.”

Lucifer’s face scrunched. “…are you going to…”

Alastor set his glass on the table and heaved a deep sigh. “Unfortunately I can't. I promised to protect them before the body was discovered.”

“…Who…?”

“I'm not telling you that. No, you cannot bargain it out of me,” he added when Lucifer immediately opened his mouth. “I gave my word and unlike some people at this table, I keep it.

“Hey!” Lucifer protested. “I didn't break my word! “

Alastor hummed. “Technicalities, my friend, technicalities. The deal was to stay away from Charlie and you failed.”

Lucifer scowled at him, angrily took another drink, and looked away. Alastor gave him his silent tantrum and waited. Finally his shoulders slumped and he glanced back at Alastor from the corner of his eye. “So… you still want to be friends.”

“Well,” Alastor said reasonably, “only friends learn these kinds of things and still don’t go running for the police - or the madhouse.” He paused. “Or belong in the madhouse themselves, I suppose.”

The corner of Lucifer’s mouth twitched. “I suppose so. It doesn’t make it easy.”

“I imagine not.”

Lucifer closed his eyes and took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. “You don’t need to be angry with Husker,” he said quietly, opening his eyes again but keeping them fixed on the table. “He had nothing to do with it.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “You are so much like your daughter.”

Now the mouth twitch turned into a small smile. “Good,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear over the club noise.

Alastor watched him, his own smile softening into something almost foreign, almost fond. With the alcohol buzzing in his head he couldn’t bring himself to care very much. “Yes,” he agreed, just as softly. “One of us should be.”