Splitting at the Seams (RadioApple)

Part 7

Lucifer really wasn't leaving.

Alastor... didn't know why that surprised him as much as it did.

Certainly he'd guessed Lucifer had nothing better to do with himself or his time (the man hadn't had anything going on since his big breakup, everyone knew that) but it was still inevitably a little strange to have one of God's first creations tend on you with a care you have wholly not earned.

There had been the first day of course, wherein Alastor had slept through the first quarter of his IV drainage, glared at the wall to while away the second, and then spent the third handily beating Lucifer's arse at every game involving a deck of cards. And the sinner maintained still that he had not cheated - the devil was simply a sore loser.

Lucifer had slept through the night by his side again, already unexpected and far beyond the minimum amount of effort required of him, and then startled Alastor further by sticking by him through another day.

"They bought you needing space the first day, but if you're still incognito after 24 hours they'll get suspicious" the shorter man had began, crosslegged atop the back of what was becoming his 'usual' perch. "If I come up with another excuse they'll question why i'm the one telling them and not you, and you're still not ready to get off your IV long enough to fake it. So..." Lucifer pulled his knees up to his chest in a continually impressive display of both acrobatics and balance, grinning like a cheshire cat as he balaboured his point. "I think I'll hole up with you. I don't have the heart to lie to Charlie repeatedly, y'see, so let's not give them the chance to force my hand. 24/7 nurse care, lucky you!"

Alastor stared at him with the profound energy of a man who's conversation partner had suddenly started speaking Spanish without elaboration partway through a phrase. It felt approximate. "That is your best strategy?"

...Actually, he'd not meant to inject that much ire into his tone. It was just... what?

"You're an infamous evildoer, and I've probably won a whole book of records for 'most flighty dad'" Lucifer chuckled self-deprecatingly, pulling a face. "Let them assume we've ditched them for the day, ran off into the sunset to do something malevolent. It's hardly uncharacteristic."

'It's hardly uncharacteristic of you.' Alastor thought. 'I do not want a reputation of being the sort of person who vanishes to do nonspecific evil things' He didn't say. 'They won't even believe it, your daughter is much more perceptive than you give her credit for.' he considered.

Then the sinner opened his mouth, and all that fell out was-

"It sounds moreso like we've eloped."

Thunk!

That was the sound of Lucifer's backside striking the parquet below with the grace and speed of a misfired bullet. Oh my was he flushed from tip to toe. It was a curiously indeterminate shade somehwere between scarlet and gold, searing across his cheeks and over the bridge where his nose should be like a sunburn.

"How is THAT the first thing you think of!" Lucifer accused, rubbing his sore rear end with a scowl, looking for all the world like a petulant child. It was good then that Alastor resisted the urge to join that comparison and snap an immature 'That's what I should be asking YOU!'

It was impressive actually, Alastor mused as he leered down at this man from above. Someone who held such great power yet could be felled by something as stupid as this. Was flirtation his weakness? That seemed... poetic.

"Forgive me sire, I misspoke" Alastor smarmed as he leant his chin atop a limp-wristed hand. It was empowering to look down at the man since Lucifer always insisted on trying to look tall whenever he could. "It was not my intention to cause your fall. Oh- pardon the double entendré" and his grin stretched a little wider across his face at the underhanded jab. The sinner's greatest weakness was and would always be his inability to respect any authority that did not respect him, and their little spat from before all of this still ground against his cognizance. It was a low blow, but it satisfied the small part in him that still wished to punch the king squarely in the face.