As it turned out, it was a lot easier for Lucifer to put the VHS tape out of his mind once they left the TV behind them. Who knew that out of sight, out of mind had a basis in truth? Lucifer wished he'd known that years ago; his last argument with Lil happened in his workshop. Maybe if he hadn't stayed there for so long, replaying it in between creating new ducks, he would've gotten over it sooner.
Probably not but hey, now he had an all-new reason to pile on himself over hiding away for too long, yay, ain't trauma fun?
But there would be plenty of time for him to pick on himself later; for now, dinner was the order of the day and after that, bedtime, and if Alastor wasn't about to get in trouble for not leaving a message at the tone, Lucifer really felt like a little sleepy snuggling was in order, preferably in their normal silverware drawer configuration.
For once, Lucifer was fairly sure he'd hit his sex quota for the day; have mercy, he was still feeling a little loose-jointed and euphoric even now.
But some little part of him, a minuscule grain of sand that hadn't yet made it to the other beach, wasn't quite ready to let go yet, a touch-starved place that was crying out for more and more, wallowing in every kiss, every lean, every brush. Snuggle time was hopefully on the schedule for later, and the sex ration enjoyed, but what about secondary touching, a middle ground of sorts?
Don't overthink it, Lucifer told himself. He took hold of Alastor's hand with as much casualness as he could muster, leading the way through the parlor door, and kept hold of it as they walked towards the kitchen. He could do that if he wanted, thank you, they weren't trying to hide anything anymore, if someone was lurking around the hotel trying to get pictures of them, they were welcome to it. Take their pictures and run back to Box with them, let him fume and fuss over the candles on his Alastor shrine while he whined about what he'd lost.
Lucifer wasn't going to think about that anymore, not today, not until Husk got back with him. He was done with Box living rent-free in his mind. Better was to focus on how Alastor's hand felt in his own. Alastor, who hadn't made so much as a sound of protest over it, not a wisp of static or a blat of trumpet. He only curled his fingers around Lucifer's, his hand warm and dry. Maybe he wasn't quite ready to let go, too, and Lucifer wondered a little giddily if he stopped and kissed Alastor right in the middle of the hallway, would he let him? It wouldn't be the first time they kissed here but it would be the first time with others deliberately in viewing range; he could see at least two other people standing in the lobby, familiar guests chatting together before heading off to wherever they were going.
He thought Alastor might. Might let him kiss him in front of God and anyone, and the knowledge was heady.
The temptation to do exactly that was strong but Lucifer resisted it this time; they were both terribly easy to distract once kisses were on the table and right now they were on a time crunch. Besides, knowing that he could do it, that Alastor might let him, was almost as good, warmly satisfying.
That satisfaction instantly faded when he opened the kitchen door and saw Vaggie at the cutting board chopping away, her back to the door.
Lucifer promptly closed it again and turned to face Alastor. Who very nearly ran into him at the unexpected stoppage, rocking back on his heels to keep from going ass over teakettle and his hand went painfully tight in Lucifer's to keep him upright.
Once Alastor caught his balance, he backed up a step, frown line in full force. "What is it?"
What it was, was that Alastor and Vaggie got along about as well as two cats fighting under a wet blanket and having them enclosed together in the kitchen when Vaggie was already feeling less than charitable towards them, well, the only recipe that went with that scenario was the one for disaster.
No, that was silly. They were all adults of some shape and form, all they needed were a few ground rules and this would work. Sure, it would, and Lucifer was going to keep telling himself that for the next hour.
"Okay, I need something from you," Lucifer announced. "But I need you to not be an asshole about it."
One elegant eyebrow rose, crimson eyes amused. "This is an unusual prelude to making a deal."
"We aren't making a deal. What we are doing is going in there," Lucifer hooked a thumb at the closed kitchen door, "and having a nice evening making dinner with my daughter and her girlfriend."
Alastor lifted a hand and in a flash of green, he summoned a pad and paper and immediately started writing.
Wonderful. Lucifer already knew he was going to regret asking, but someone had to be the straight man here, (well, bi). "What are you doing?"
"Recording your exact words for posterity," Alastor said cheerily, scribbling furiously, "That way when this fails utterly, I'll be able to more accurately compose my 'I told you so.'
Oh, this was starting swimmingly, now wasn't it. They were all going to drown in the shallow end of the pool if this kept up.
"Alastor," Lucifer said, trying for firm and ending somewhere in the neighborhood of pleading. "I need you to behave."
The pad and pen vanished, and Alastor gave him a fairly impressive, 'who, me?' look of purest innocence and if he hadn't just seen Alastor panting and squirming naked in his lap, he might've even believed it.
"Don't give me that butter won't melt in your mouth look, save it for the bread rolls," Lucifer said. "Just tell me you'll behave."
"I'll behave," Alastor said promptly. Too promptly.
Welp, might as well go for the fresh Hell. "I'd ask for your definition of the word behave but we don't have an hour to stand here. Come on."
He opened the door again and the first thing that struck him was that Charlie and Vaggie must've gone to the same cooking class or watched a 'How You Don't' video online or something because she was chopping onions with the same lack of skill Charlie showed yesterday before Alastor realigned her skill set. Less chopping, really, more like a rehearsal for Heaven's next exorcism attempt.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Alastor's cheek starting to twitch, yeah, okay, Vaggie wasn't his daughter, but it looked like she could still use a little fatherly direction. Probably she would take it better from him than Alastor; as near as Lucifer could tell, their relationship could be described as just barely above mutual loathing.
Before he could step in and prevent the War of the Onions, Charlie appeared from the pantry, hurrying over to her girlfriend.
"Oh, no, babe," she said hastily, "cut them like this, they'll turn out much better."
Charlie absconded with the knife and cutting board to demonstrate a fairly competent rendition of the technique Alastor showed her yesterday, and, okay, it was only an onion, so what, it still made Lucifer practically glow with pride.
Not as much as Alastor, his glowing was of the more literal sense, with eerie green and canned applause from a studio audience. "Well done, my dear! So nice to see you took my lessons to heart."
Vaggie was looking at Charlie with the soft pride and adoration of a woman ready to follow her lover to the next celebrity chef competition.
That expression didn't last as she turned her gaze to Alastor. Her smile hardened, her eyes narrowing, "What is he doing here? Shouldn't you still be cleaning the sofa you desecrated, I thought this was supposed to be Charlie and her dad making dinner, wasn't that the bet?"
"How ironic, I thought the same thing when I saw you!" Alastor said brightly. He twirled his microphone and it disappeared, morphing instead into an apron. "As I told you before, the sofa survived unscathed. Now, what are we making for dinner for our illustrious crew tonight!"
"Lasagna," Vaggie gritted out. Neither of them noticed Lucifer and Charlie pointedly looking at anything but each other, yeah, okay, going forward, the parlor was officially out for any off-roading.
Alastor paused in the middle of tying on his apron. This one said 'Bone Appetite' overtop a skull and crossbones, hrm, there was something to be said about too much truth in advertising. He said, clearly and without a hint of his normal staticy tones, "No, we are not."
"What? But why?" Charlie said at the same time Vaggie snapped out, "I don't recall you being in charge!"
"We are absolutely not making lasagna," Alastor said again, shaking his head. "I can't even think of a dish more fraught with peril. Do we follow the recipe for the northern regions of Italy or the southern? Béchamel or ricotta, store bought pasta or homemade, mozzarella or parmigiano reggiano, or both? No, I assure you this will not be a meal, it will be a battle zone."
"I think Charlie can decide—" Vaggie began heatedly, even as Charlie's eyes were practically swirling from the choices. Personally, Lucifer thought Alastor was overstating the whole dogs of war and doom, but hey, what did Lucifer know, maybe they got off light with the etouffee.
Not that it mattered, there was another much more practical reason to choose a different recipe.
"It'll also take too long", Lucifer interjected gently. "Just baking lasagna would take at least an hour, we probably should make something that won't take all night. Not that early morning lasagna would be a bad thing."
"Philistine," Alastor muttered.
"You're right," Charlie agreed, "we need to be making dinner not breakfast. Okay, dad, what do you suggest?"
Before Lucifer could put in a recipe bid, Alastor spoke up again, "A vegetarian stir-fry would be a faster, safer choice, and your father knows how to make it."
"What makes you think that?" Not that stir fry was in any way complex, but that confidence was sus.
Alastor only looked at him from beneath his lashes, crimson eyes knowing. "It's one of your favorites."
Which…was true but he didn't recall ever mentioning it. Which meant Alastor knew from other means, knew and also remembered it, like he was outlining his discoveries in his diary at night and dotting his 'i's with little hearts, creepy ass stalker that he surely was. Fuck it, at this point Lucifer wasn't sure anything would surprise him and for the sake of anyone above or below who might be listening, he'd like to request they did not take that assessment as a challenge.
Lucifer only looked up wordlessly into those eyes and the urge to steal a quick kiss was painfully strong. If Charlie wasn't waiting anxiously for an answer about stir fry, he might've done it. Might still do it, if she would look away for just a sec—
Vaggie, it seemed, had no sense of a moment, "If it's one of Lucifer's recipes, then we don't really need your help, do we? Besides, I don't think vegetarian is really your specialty."
"Vaggie—" Charlie sighed and that was the tone of someone who'd had this argument before, possibly more than once.
Alastor's head whipped around towards Vaggie, neck cracking in cringe-worthy ways. His ever-present smile widened into something vicious, ready to draw blood, "What's always fascinated me about you is that you seem to operate under a certain delusion that you can simply tell me what to do."
Vaggie inhaled sharply, probably about to tell him exactly what he could do and where, and only Charlie jabbing an elbow into her side kept her silent.
"Alastor!" Lucifer hissed, because he couldn't let Charlie do all the partner-wrangling, "that is not behaving!"
Alastor didn't even look at him. Radio static spat in a brief, piercing whine, "More frustrating is that you aren't the only one."
"All you're doing is intruding on time Charlie could be spending with her father," Vaggie snarled, jabbing a finger in Alastor's direction like a weapon, "She doesn't need you here."
"I didn't realize the two of you were practicing a ventriloquism act, quite impressive, I didn't even see her lips move. Surely Charlie can speak for herself?" Alastor said lightly. He turned to Charlie, who was wearing a rather hunted expression for a person about to cook vegetarian. "Is that how you feel? Would you prefer to be deprived of my presence."
She opened her mouth, closed it, looking between Vaggie and Alastor and said, weakly, "I mean, I don't get to spend much time with my dad but…um…I don't really mind? Much?"
Alastor's smile dimmed, the waver of static around them fading, and that was when it hit Lucifer, like the proverbial baseball bat. Maybe Alastor wasn't only showing up to be an asshole. Maybe, just maybe, it genuinely didn't occur to him he wouldn't be welcome.
Which, he wasn't unwelcome, not as far as Lucifer was concerned. No assholes here, only misunderstandings, except maybe Vaggie who was looking decidedly satisfied.
How very heavenly of her.
"I see," Alastor said neutrally. "Of course, how terribly rude of me." He waved a hand and his apron vanished, replaced with his microphone. He tucked the long staff under his arm and sketched a little half-bow at Vaggie. "After you."
"What?" Vaggie said, startled, "I'm not leaving."
Alastor's smile only widened, his teeth fractionally too sharp, the sclera of his eyes tinting darker, "Forgive me, I thought we were discussing intrusions."
"The only intruder here is you," Vaggie snapped.
"That's not true!" Lucifer burst out, finally finding his voice at the same moment Charlie cried, "Vaggie, stop!"
Alastor only stood up straight as if he'd heard neither of them, the weight of his gaze entirely on Vaggie. Who met it defiantly, her spear only metaphorical and yet somehow still very present in her glare.
"Very well," Alastor said, finally. He blinked slowly, dark lashes dipping. "Then I suppose I misspoke earlier, my dear, I do need to be going, after all. I'll see you tonight." That last was directed at Lucifer and it sounded almost as much like a warning as a reassurance.
"Alastor, don't go," Lucifer tried. Too late, he was speaking to the remains of a shadow and he was pretty sure it glared at him as it disappeared. No goodbye kisses this time, and he had a feeling he'd be lucky if there were any kisses when the proverbial 'tonight' came.
Lucifer sighed, rubbing at his temples. "That wasn't very caring and supportive, therapy gurus. He's had kind of a shitty day."
What with going out in the wee hours to do whatever it was that earned him a faceful of bruises, Lanolyn out him as having something resembling compassion on live radio, and dealing with a panic attack from Niffty, Alastor's calendar was pretty damn full and one quick afternoon nap was probably not enough to recharge those eldritch batteries.
"Oh, he's had a shitty day?" Vaggie scoffed, "I was just mopping blood and entrails out of the lobby but go ahead and tell me more about his day."
Okay, admittedly that did make for another example of a pretty shitty day, plus it was hard on the footwear. But it wasn't a competition and Alastor was…well, Alastor. It wasn't as if he'd been wrong about making lasagna. His delivery could just use a little work.
"We won't have time to do that and make dinner," Lucifer said decisively, "so let's get started." The wok was hanging on the wall with the other pots and pans and Lucifer retrieved it, juggling it in his arms along with a pair of cooking chopsticks and a potholder. This was an easy recipe and if they hurried, they could have dinner ready in half an hour, if someone would get the rice going.
His hopes that Vaggie would be that someone were quickly dashed. She saw a chance to vent and, by god, she was taking it, stalking behind him as he set the pan on the stovetop with a little too much force. "What's cruel is the way he's driving you and Charlie apart."
"Vaggie, he's really not," Charlie said as she came back out of the pantry. Had to give her credit, it was a long, long time since she'd had his stir fry, but her memory was serving her well. Baby corn, water chestnuts, good choices. The chickpeas were maybe a little untraditional, but he could work with it.
Charlie began tackling them with a can opener while Vaggie stood there unhelpfully, steaming almost as much as the rice she was supposed to be making would. "He is! He's putting himself between you!"
"He is doing no such thing," Lucifer said, raising his voice to be heard over the tap as he rinsed the rice. He liked Vaggie, fallen angel or not, wasn't like he didn't understand disagreeing with Heaven. This dynamic, though, he was not liking, and he really didn't care for Vaggie's whole 'I know better' vibe right now. Lucifer could never claim he was an expert in the fatherly arts, true. That didn't mean he wasn't a step above a former angel whose only experience with father figures was Adam, yeesh, how did anyone think that guy was good father material after the whole Cain and Abel debacle. "But if that's how Charlie feels then give her the agency to say so."
"I don't feel that way," Charlie said, low.
Vaggie swung around to look at her disbelievingly. "But you said—"
Charlie pushed aside the cans, reaching over to take both her hands, squeezing them. "Vaggie, I love you," Charlie said, gently, "but you're taking what I said out of context. You're misunderstanding. Yes, I said that I wished I could spend more time with my dad, but that doesn't mean I want to exclude Alastor. I know he's not your favorite person—"
"Understatement," Vaggie muttered. Meanwhile, Lucifer was torn between panic and glee that Charlie wanted to spend more time with him, was he not trying hard enough, because he could, he could make himself more available to her, he was right here in the hotel, he could do that. He could.
He didn't say anything, letting the two of them talk as he added the rice to the pot, measured out water, and got it on a burner. The rice would take longer than the veggies and sauce, but once it was ready, they were ten minutes to table.
Charlie went on, "I think you're letting your dislike of him get in the way of the real goal here." Her smile widened, softened, as she said, "Redemption."
Oh. Uh. If that was the goal, Lucifer was very much afraid Charlie was in for a world of disappointment. "Sweetie, I don't think Alastor wants redemption."
"I know that." Charlie turned to look at him, her gaze steady. "That doesn't mean he'll never earn it."
Lucifer would be the first to admit he was not an expert on redemption. He'd never gotten that far with his dreams; he was here at the hotel to help Charlie with hers, whatever he could do to make it a success. For him, redemption was forever out of reach, there would be no forgiveness, not for him, that was what Fallen meant; unforgivable. A human soul might have more grace than his tarnished essence possessed, but for someone like Alastor, redemption was a lofty ambition, indeed.
He really hoped that goalpost was far, far down at the end of the path.
He and Vaggie seemed to be in agreement with that much at least. She slouched back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at the floor. "He's not going to earn it playing house with your father."
Yeah, okay, that was right around enough of that. Girlfriend status only got her so far in the rude department.
"Excuse me, father is standing right here, and he is really failing to see how any of this is your business," Lucifer said coolly.
Someone must've ordered groceries earlier, either Charlie in anticipation of them making dinner for the next few days or someone else for the same reason. There was even fresh produce stashed in the fridge, an expensive commodity in Hell. Lucifer selected a couple promising bell peppers and got to work slicing them. The group effort for dinner was turning into a solo affair and Lucifer was past fatherly encouragement to get them involve. Getting this over with seemed a better choice right now and hopes for tomorrow's cooking lesson to be a better day.
"I'm sorry, sir," Vaggie said, not sounding it in the slightest, "you're right. It's not my business but it is my concern!"
"Don't call me sir," Lucifer said, and his tone was as sharp as his chef's knife, "we aren't in heaven and I'm not your superior officer. My name is Lucifer. And I'm aware you don't approve of our relationship, but again, not your business."
"Don't approve?" Vaggie snorted, well, manners were completely off the table, now weren't they. "No shit, I don't even know what you're thinking!"
"Vaggie!" Charlie said and this time there was some heat in it, his little girl had some of her dad's temper in her. Lucifer smiled to himself as he deseeded the peppers; Lil's temper was a cold one, icy crisp and occasionally brutal, the very definition of Hell freezing over, but Charlie was nothing but fire as she said, heatedly, "That's enough!"
"He's a deal maker!" Vaggie went on doggedly, bordering on desperate. "You do know he's only trying to get close to you for some kind of power grab, right?"
"No, I don't know that. It's not like that at all." Lucifer still didn't know exactly what it was like, this relationship. If there were words for it in any language in or out of the Living World, Lucifer didn't know them or if he did, he wasn't sure what order they went in. This whole thing was a mental scrabble game covered in words like fear and care and vulnerability and…and waiting for its turn was love. Love was right there, waiting for the right double score moment to make it to the board.
"Oh no, it's not like that now," Vaggie snapped. Her hands were curled so tightly into fists her nails dug into her palms, a single droplet of gold falling to spatter and shine on the floor tiles. "He only waits until you're at your most desperate—
"Vaggie, stop!" Charlie shouted, only to be ignored.
"—just like he did with her!"
Everything in Lucifer's chest froze, a block of ice forming around the facsimile of his heart. He turned around, abandoning the growing pile of bell pepper to face them. When he spoke, it was without thought, distant and empty, "What do you mean?"
He had to ask, he had to, because he couldn't have heard that. He couldn't have heard it because if he had, those words heavily implied Alastor had made a deal with his little girl. They'd made a deal, sold some part of herself to him, and no one told him. Not Alastor, not Charlie, not even Vaggie who was currently wearing a peculiar shade of guilt and defiant triumph around her like a halo.
Lucifer stood there, knife in hand, and some detached, tired portion of himself really wished he'd just stayed in bed this morning, because as it turned out, it wasn't only Alastor and Vaggie having a shit day.
tbc
Chapter 2If Lucifer had to pick one of his worse traits, and that would make for a tough call, there were so many to choose from, he'd have to say it was his 'do nothing' attitude. On the opposite scope of that was his 'do all the things' switcharoo, interesting little contrast there and the worst part about both was that he didn't get to pick which one would be taking the steering wheel.
Reactive, that was what Lilith called it, a very long time ago and she'd said it with an equal measure of fondness and irritation. See a thing, do a thing/ignore a thing probably wasn't the best way to handle most situations and knowing that about himself didn't always make it easier to deal. He tried, sure, but habits were hard to break and this old snake wasn't very good at new tricks.
It sure wasn't serving him well now, standing here with his daughter and her girlfriend right in front of him, and an unexpected bombshell dropped right at his feet, waiting for an explosion.
Except what Lucifer was feeling wasn't the urge to explode, but nearly the opposite, that he was on the verge of drowning, torn between two instincts, to confront Alastor or run and hide away, curl up alone with his hands over his ears, maybe humming for good measure to keep it all out. Not jazz, fuck, nothing near jazz.
The second option was the best choice, argued one of his little inner voices, the depression voice, and it always sounded like Sera, for all that Lucifer hadn't spoken to her in thousands of years.
It wasn't worth it, that voice reasoned, the faux Sera, always so certain she was right, that she knew best. None of this was worth the pain it brought, and he could do, what he should do, was go back to his workshop and shut the door, stay with his tools and ducks, servants knocking at the door at regular intervals and leaving trays of food for him. He could leave his phone behind and he wouldn't have to think or feel or anything. Hell wouldn't stop if he wasn't here to barely oversee it, it would keep going, it always would, all the misery and hate and evils in the world always needed a place to go.
No.
No, he was as finished listening to Heaven – even his internal version of it— as he was with hiding, he wasn't about to take up bad habits again, not now. He couldn't.
But he still didn't know what to do. He wasn't going to hide so that was out, and Alastor was gone, Lucifer couldn't confront him. All he could do was stand here, frozen, knife clenched in his fist and listening to the hiss of the burner as the rice boiled over, the pot spewing froth across the stovetop.
It was Charlie who grabbed the pot and moved it off the burner, Charlie who carefully took the knife from Lucifer's hand and set it on the countertop next to the abandoned pile of green peppers. She took him by the shoulders, guiding him towards the table and pushing him towards a chair.
"Dad, sit down," she commanded, and he sat, woof, good dog. She rested a hand on the back of his neck, cool and soothing. "Take a deep breath."
With distant, nearly hysterical amusement, Lucifer realized he was verging on a panic attack and Alastor wouldn't be coming to save him this time, no, he was the one causing it, indirectly, and irrationally, stupidly, Lucifer still wanted him here. Wanted to listen to the stabilizing sound of his distinctive voice, soothing him down until he was settled enough to turn it around and demand answers about what the fuck Alastor thought he was doing with his daughter.
Charlie spoke again, the calmness in her voice grounding. "Take another deep breath, that's it, just focus on breathing."
He heaved in two lungsful of air, choke it back out, again, and some of the encroaching blackness receded from his vision.
"I'm all right," Lucifer said, reedy thin, and he wasn't sure if he was, but he'd have to be, wouldn't he. There was no room for self-pity right now; he was full up on feelings and that particular one, worthless as it was, would have to wait its turn.
"You are," Charlie agreed, "You're just fine." She didn't move away, the solid press of her hand on his neck holding him steady. She didn't even turn to look behind her as she said, "Vaggie, you should go."
Silence greeted that and Lucifer managed to look up enough to see Vaggie standing a few feet away by the mess of the stove, her expression stricken, as frozen as he was.
Good. Lucifer was selfish enough to hate suffering alone.
Something like regret twisted across Vaggie's face, her single eye damp. "Babe, I'm sorry, I didn't—I didn't mean to—"
"I'm not angry," Charlie said with that same even calm, "but we can talk later. I need to speak to my dad."
"I agree, I think you should go." Lucifer managed to keep back the venom from the words only through his love for his daughter, even now unwilling to cause too much hurt to someone she loved. Well, most of it, there was a drip or two of poisonous sweetness when he added, "As you pointed out, this is supposed to be a father/daughter occasion."
Vaggie flinched. Now she looked remorseful, but Lucifer wasn't feeling particularly forgiving. That was supposed to be Heaven's gig and there were still six more rings under Lucifer's feet demonstrating how shit they were at it.
"Go on," Charlie urged, tipping her head towards the door. "I'll let you know when dinner is ready."
Lucifer choked on a laugh, a short, sharp bark. Dinner, right, stir fry was the least of his concerns right now. His stomach was a twisted, gordian knot, his appetite utterly lost.
Vaggie shifted on her feet, visibly torn, then finally turned towards the door. It swung silently shut behind her, a less dramatic exit than Alastor's, and finally left the two of them alone. Father/Daughter bonding time at its worst.
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the cooling burble of ruined rice. It was Charlie who finally broke it, each word slow, carefully chosen.
"Dad, it isn't that bad," Charlie began.
"Not that bad?" Lucifer interrupted harshly. He looked up at her, still standing and towering over him even more than usual. "Because it sounds pretty damn bad, it sounded to me like you made a deal with Alastor." That his accusation wasn't followed by an immediate denial made Lucifer close his eyes against the sudden aching heat in them, crimson threatening the edges of his vision. He waited, with the very little patience he'd managed to learn over the centuries, seconds drawing out into minutes, days, years.
"Not for my soul," Charlie said, finally.
Okay, that was…that was marginally better., walking alongside a river of shit rather than wading through the revolting filth of it. "For what, then?"
"Information from him in exchange for a favor from me."
And right back ankle-deep into the shit. "A favor. You made a deal for an open-ended favor?" Lucifer groaned. "What were you thinking? Didn't I teach you better than that?"
He hadn't had the chance to teach her much, she'd been so young when they left him and he didn't see her often through her teen years, but he knew he'd hammered that one in, whenever he could. Don't take shit from other demons, don't make deals, and never, ever let anyone have a claim on your soul. Not even Heaven.
Charlie sighed then, a weary heave of air from deep inside her. "Okay, let's take a minute before we talk, yeah?" She stepped away from him to the countertop, reaching up into the cupboard.
"Is this where you tell me to calm down?" Lucifer sniped. Her quietness was unnerving him; he was more accustomed to arguments where people shouted at him and he shouted back, even with Alastor. Except not so much recently, was it, whatever Alastor's temper, he'd gotten a firm hold on it; even now he hadn't been angry when he left and Lucifer was torn between emotions, unable to settle on what to feel and instead sat caught in the tangle of it all, watching his daughter.
"No." She rose up on her toes, rummaging through the cupboard and brought down the foil bag of coffee hidden up there. "Telling someone to calm down never works, may as well say don't blink or quit breathing. This is for me, I need a minute to get my thoughts in order so we can really talk." She pulled out the basket from the coffee machine, carefully tucking a filter into it. "You know, before everyone came to stay at the hotel, I always drank instant coffee, I really didn't know how to use a coffee maker. Seems silly now, it's not so hard. Alastor showed me." She let out a brief, self-deprecating laugh. "His demonstration cleared up a lot. I might've done better on my first attempt if I'd known it needed the liner."
"Alastor showed you? When did he even have time?" Lucifer asked reluctantly, curiosity coming to the fore. Alastor was cramming so much into his days that shoehorning in a coffee lesson was impressive, bordering on some kind of time manipulation.
"Right before he went to see you in the parlor." She scooped out the fragrant grounds into the basket, poured the water and flicked it on, watching as dark brew began dribbling into the pot. "He was looking for you, but he took the time to show me before he left."
A coffee lesson right before what was supposed to be a cooking lesson, sandwiched in the middle was their little adventure in public indecency. Alastor took the time to teach Charlie while he'd been ready to get fucked and Lucifer wasn't sure how he felt about that; it was weirdly, absurdly endearing, that Alastor halted his own plans to help Charlie…the same person he'd coerced into a deal. And then he'd come back and gotten kicked out of the dinner prep he'd arranged in his roundabout, deceptive way and it was all so confusing.
(a father should get to spend time with his child)
Lucifer slouched down, letting his head drop into his hands, remembering Alastor's expression right before he vanished. He should've said something sooner, should have stepped in before Alastor left, shouldn't have stood there watching the car wreck of it like the metaphorical deer in the headlights.
The regret was difficult to reconcile with the burning anger over him making a deal with Charlie and Lucifer reluctantly came to the conclusion that Charlie was right. Taking a minute to let the initial shock go was the correct choice and fury was fading into hurt bewilderment. He didn't think Vaggie was right, she was coming to conclusions without seeing the entire picture, and it was hard to blame her for her distrust knowing what he did now. But Lucifer did know, he'd been given glimpses past the shield of Alastor's perpetual smile, their relationship wasn't about Alastor trying to use him, he was sure of it…wasn't he?
So why hadn't Alastor told him about the deal?
If it were anyone else, Lucifer might think it was because of regrets, even shame, but he wasn't convinced Alastor kept either of those words in his personal dictionary. Honestly, he didn't know why Alastor kept half the secrets he did, past being bound by his deal. Learning to understand Alastor was like walking up the stairs in a very tall building and Lucifer was barely to the first floor with no idea how far it was to the top.
He accepted the coffee cup when Charlie handed it to him, inhaling the scent before taking a sip. It was almost like Alastor's, not quite there. Something was missing, lost in the translation. Still pretty damn good, strong and bracing, and Lucifer drank half the cup in one gulp, forcing his reluctant stomach to accept the offering.
Charlie sat across from him and took a sip of her own cream and sugar monstrosity. "Okay. To start with, I want to be clear that no one was trying to keep this a secret from you. At least I wasn't, I was only waiting for the right time to bring it up. I didn't want to at the beginning; when you first got here, you both argued so much. And then you weren't arguing, you were something else and I knew you'd be upset. The longer I waited to tell you, the harder it was to say anything and Vaggie's been pushing since she found out about you two—" she paused, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "Dad, you've been doing so well the past couple weeks, you've seemed happy. I didn't want to spoil it."
He looked down into the murky depths of his cup. "So tell me now, give me the whole picture."
"It was a bad moment for me," Charlie admitted. "I found out my girlfriend was lying to me about who she was, Adam was about to come murder us all, and—" she shook her head. "Alastor came to me, we made a deal, and he helped me find a way to defend against the Exorcists. More than one way, actually. We never would have made it without him."
"And to achieve that you agreed to give him a suspiciously vague favor," Lucifer said flatly. The full story didn't make it sound much better. "He could ask anything of you."
"Not anything," she protested, "it's not like that. Whatever the favor is, no one can get hurt."
"Oh, there's a million ways around that!" Lucifer wiped a hand over his face, pressing a knuckle between his eyes where a headache was starting to bloom. "Whatever he asks, no matter what it is, I can't do a thing about it. I can't interfere in a legitimate deal, not even for you." Not any more than he could break Alastor's, a pain point that kept getting sharper.
Charlie lifted her chin, that defiance in her that he loved when it wasn't directed at him. "It was my choice. I'm an adult, dad, and I have been for a while now."
An adult who was still his child, and the conflict of it grated. "Obviously not one with any sense! How could you make a deal with someone like Alastor!"
Fire flared in her eyes, a brief hint of horns, this apple didn't fall far from the tree. "Said by the man who is sleeping with him!" Charlie snapped.
Lucifer reeled back, coffee sloshing over his hand, and he barely noticed the burn. Today was just a roller coaster of trauma, wasn't it, up and down again, wheeee, was that what he was doing, sleeping with the man who might hurt his little girl in ways he couldn't even conceive.
He couldn't sit anymore, lurching to his feet, and he only meant to pace. But Charlie reached for him, anger disappearing into upset.
"Wait!" Charlie said, panicked, "Dad, don't go. Please!" Her reaching hand stopped shy of his arm and hovered there, wanting and afraid to touch.
Don't go. As if he would and that she didn't know it was an all-new pain.
Lucifer took her hand in both his own, gripping tightly. "I'm not leaving, sweetheart. Not ever again."
"Okay. Okay, please. Just give me a second." She took a couple of deep breaths, letting them out slowly, huh, wonder which of her books on therapy discussed breathing techniques. She opened her eyes again, calmer, "Dad, it's not as bad as it seems."
"Baby, it is," Lucifer said, softly, "He can ask you to do so many awful things."
"He hasn't."
"He's been a little busy." They all had, really, it was a non-stop parade around here, only the universe kept throwing trauma rather than candy when what they all really needed was a Snickers.
"And he could have called in that favor any time and made me help him," Charlie pointed out.
"Unless he already has a specific favor in mind," Lucifer said darkly. He didn't want to believe that could be true, he'd seen Alastor with Charlie, he'd seen Alastor, and his heart was aching, but he couldn't take that risk, not with Charlie, he could not risk his daughter, not for any amount of his own happiness. "I need to talk to him."
He couldn't stop whatever Alastor intended but maybe he could, well. Maybe talking would help somehow. It hadn't traditionally but hey, always a first time.
Except Charlie looked so upset, frustrated and angry in equal portions. "You don't! Not about this. Dad, this was signed and sealed before you ever came to the hotel, there's nothing to discuss."
"That doesn't change anything."
"Doesn't it?" Charlie sighed heavily and squeezed his hands in her own. " I know right now you must feel like he betrayed you, but you two had barely met then. Don't punish him for the past you weren't even in."
"Then why doesn't he cancel the deal?"
She sighed again. "You really don't know anything about making deals, do you?"
That stung a little, but she wasn't wrong. His daughter knew more about deals than him, it was a fact. "Your mom always handled all that," Lucifer admitted.
Charlie bit her lip, considering, "Okay, look, a deal is binding on both sides. He can't just cancel unless there was a clause for that we agreed to beforehand. He might not ever use his favor, but he can't just wipe it out."
That was an interesting factoid to add to his mental dictionary, but it wasn't an excuse. "He could ask you to, I don't know? Pass the sriracha at dinner or something."
"Or he could be keeping it in his back pocket in case he ever needs it." She smiled a little, pained. "Having the princess of Hell on the back burner owing you a favor is not a bad thing to have if you end up needing it."
Why did everyone always have to seem so logical? Husk, Alastor, and now Charlie, Lucifer couldn't say he liked being on the chaos side of thinking, not this time. "And you're okay with that?"
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have agreed to the deal," Charlie said. "He's my friend, I would have helped him if I could even without a favor but, well, I'm not the one with trust issues. I'm not sure he could have helped me without making a deal, it's just not his nature." She looked away, the lingering remnants of past hurts in her voice as she said, "I had to do something, Dad, and you weren't here."
"Charlie," Lucifer began, stricken. "I couldn't, I wanted to come sooner, but the agreement." He couldn't step in until Adam broke the agreed upon deal with Heaven, not without much worse consequences. They still didn't know what costs they might be facing even now, so far Heaven was keeping silent about the extermination day events and that was fine by him.
Except it wasn't about him not being there just then, was it, it was a theme throughout her life, one that he could never make up for, no matter how he tried.
"I know, Dad, it's okay," Charlie said reassuringly, and it stung as much as it soothed, his child comforting him, "I can understand that. I had to make my own choices."
"Choices he took advantage of." Lucifer wasn't quite ready to let that go.
"He almost died helping to keep the hotel safe," Charlie said quietly. "I never saw what exactly happened, and Alastor always manages to talk his way out of any questions, but the way the shield was broken, the way he disappeared, he had to have been badly hurt, don't you think? Was that part of his plan, too?"
"I don't know." But Lucifer was sure it ended with Alastor making a deal with someone for unknown reasons and Lucifer very much didn't believe that was planned.
"I've said it before," Charlie went on, "Alastor can be sketchy as fuck. But he tries in his own way. I don't know if he originally came here to make a deal with me or if he just can't help himself, but if that was all he wanted, he didn't have to stay. He could have left anytime after making the deal."
"You can't trust him," Lucifer blurted. All he could think of was Husk, his soul bought and owned while he worked endlessly for Alastor, of Angel, his slow, exhausted walk whenever he returned from work, of Alastor himself working off whatever the terms of his own deal. Could Alastor understand how much it would hurt him to see his daughter the same way? If he did, would he even care or would it simply be more entertainment. He didn't know, didn't want to believe the same person who curled into his arms at night could be that way, but. He didn't know.
"Do you?" Charlie countered.
Lucifer closed his eyes. The contrasts in Alastor, nightmares and Chinese food, owning souls and destroying donut shops. Of him coming to Lucifer when he was drugged and borrowing his underwear, of him wrist deep in Lucifer's wings, touching him in ways no one else ever had, willing to make a deal to reassure that he wouldn't cause any hurt. Of him carrying Lucifer upstairs when he was drunk and of sitting on the radio console with Alastor's arms around him, safe in the seat of his powers, how his eyes were never, ever that horrible empty blankness when Alastor was with him.
Yes/no, stop and go, left and right, night and day; so many contrasts, all bound up together in peanut butter and chocolate love.
"I trust him enough," Lucifer said at last. Enough, more than enough, probably too much. But he did. He did.
"Okay," Charlie nodded as if she'd heard all the things he didn't say. "Then I'm asking you, stay out of this. It's between us. If I get hurt because of it, well, you can do what you think needs to be done but until then? Leave it be."
"Right," Lucifer mumbled, taking a page out of Alastor's book and avoiding a definite agreement. If you didn't make promises, people couldn't come back later accusing you of breaking them, that was the way.
"You know, I was so upset with Vaggie for lying to me," Charlie said. It took Lucifer a second to catch up on the subject change, except it really wasn't. Charlie obviously saw their relationships as the same, probably thought of Alastor as her 'dad's boyfriend' in her mind and kept framed pictures of them in her room. "But someone reminded me then that people are flawed. They make mistakes, they make bad choices, all of us do. All we can look at is their actions after." She lifted her free hand, palm up, the gesture a question. "Dad, if I can forgive Vaggie for lying to me about who she was, then maybe you can let this go? I know Alastor can be a little," she twisted her hand and instead held up her thumb and forefinger a good inch apart, "sketchy. He's an Overlord, he makes deals, he owns souls, and he's used to only giving up information for a price. But look at his actions. Does he seem like he's trying to get close to get some kind of deal?"
(I do believe that's the first time I've ever been relieved to not complete a deal)
"I don't know," Lucifer groaned, and it was almost true. Closer was when he admitted, "I don't think so?"
"Hey, that's a start!" Charlie said brightly, "Dad, in all honesty, what's between you two is really not my business any more than it is Vaggie's."
"Of course it is," Lucifer said, offended, "you're my daughter."
"And it's your life," she countered. "You've been so much better with him, you've been happier and it makes mehappy to see it. Alastor is, well, he's complicated. But I think maybe you are, too?"
"It could all end terribly," Lucifer warned. Vaggie was right about that much, not her business but her concern. Husk warned him, too. The fallout wouldn't end with him and Alastor.
"Anything could, dad. Take the moments of happiness when they come."
He reached out and took her other hand. Her fingers were still warm from the coffee cup and Lucifer held on tight as he said, quietly, "I'm so sorry I wasn't a better father to you."
Charlie's expression softened, years old hurt and gentle compassion, "Okay, let's take a quick trip down that path. You're right, you weren't always the best father. But you were there when I really needed you and you're here now, and you're trying. You apologized and you don't need to ever do it again. It's okay. I don't want to spend my time living in the past, I want to make a future with you as my dad."
His throat was achingly tight and Lucifer nodded, managed to squeeze out, "I want that, too."
She smiled a little, the pink apples of her cheeks rounding and she looked so very much like him. "I'm not very good at this either, you know."
"Not very good at what? Cooking?" Lucifer said, letting out a watery laugh.
"No…well, yes," Charlie laughed briefly, but quickly went back to serious, "but. I'm not very good at being a daughter. I'm not very good at running this hotel. I have so many ideas and dreams and don't know how to use them. But I'm trying. You're trying. And I think Alastor is trying. It's all we can do, dad. Trying is all anyone can do."
Lucifer's eyes stung and he blinked away tears. "You got so grown up when I wasn't there to see it."
"That doesn't matter," Charlie insisted, like she was determined to say it as many times as it took to get through his thick skull. "You're here now."
"If he hurts you, I'll--" A lump settled in Lucifer's throat because he didn't know what he'd do, what he could bear to do, or how much whatever he did would break him, so many unknowns for one little sentence.
"I don't think he will, dad," Charlie said gently. Tears were standing out in her own eyes, spilling over when she blinked. She grabbed a napkin from the holder and wiped at her eyes before blowing her nose, then she laughed. "Well! That wasn't exactly how I wanted to spend more time with you, dad. How about we stick a pin in it for now and make dinner, what do you think?"
"Yeah, dinner," Lucifer agreed. He glanced back at the chaos of the stove and shook his head, snapping away the mess. Sometimes starting over was the only way forward. "Wash your hands first."
"Yes, dad," Charlie said, all sass and laughter. She washed her hands and stepped up, and Lucifer showed her the finer arts of seeding a bell pepper.
Stick a pin in it, they could do that for now, but he wasn't convinced that not talking about it with Alastor was the right choice, another secret to juggle between them. Lucifer had some experience with juggling, and this felt so much more dangerous than knives or blazing torches.
He still hadn't decided whether he was going to bring it up by dinner time and the stir fry turned out good, really good, the veggies deliciously tender, the rice warm and filling. He wasn't sure how a person with a preference for raw venison would feel about it and as it turned out, he wasn't going to find out tonight.
The chair at the end of the table stayed empty and no one asked where Alastor was. Not even Husk, who shot Lucifer a look that he couldn't interpret, but it sure as hell didn't make him feel any better about things.
Where Alastor was wasn't a question Lucifer could answer, and he couldn't say why he was gone, either, whether he was still in a snit or if it were…something else. Either would be upsetting but not knowing was so much worse.
Lucifer mostly pushed his food around on his plate with his fork into untouched little hills of rice and veggies, his appetite lost, and he wasn't the only one. Vaggie wasn't eating much either and Lucifer would've liked to say he wasn't meanly satisfied by her faintly swollen eye, as if she'd spent some time crying before coming down to dinner.
He would've liked to say that but welp, that wasn't happening. Instead, he pushed his plate aside, murmuring his goodnights and bypassing Charlie's look of concern as he headed right out of the dining room without so much as a last wave. Let the others handle the dishes tonight, he was fresh out of magic scrub brushes. Alastor said they'd see each other tonight, time to see exactly how today was going to end.
Oh, how much Lucifer wanted to have high hopes for tonight, but they'd been pushing the envelope for a while now and the biggest problem with that was if you kept pushing, eventually it tore and everything came spilling out.
Couldn't they have one night without trauma and drama and secrets and…eh, fuck it. He'd had plenty of that with Lilith and the monotony wasn't much better.
But one night? That wasn't asking too much, right? Maybe he'd bring it up to Alastor and they could hide in their room and call out for takeout and talk more about his work as a radio host in the Living World, pretend all the secrets and unknowns and deals didn't exist, for just a little while.
Alastor told him once not to make useless wishes and Lucifer wasn't sure what he'd think of this one, but he thought it wasn't too much to ask.
But then, God never was very good at taking his requests.
-finis