A/N: I know my publishing schedule has been really off (the next chapter is literally coming out tomorrow) and I'm really sorry. I'm actually travelling in a different country at the moment which is why it's so hard to properly publish chapters. If you want more precise updates, you can go to the Ao3 version of this fanfic, where my friend (who I wrote this with) is publishing the story more periodically. Here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56544595/chapters/143706859
Lucifer lazily flipped through the television channels from his spot on the couch. He was slouched almost upside down, his feet resting on the top of the couch and his head hanging off the edge. "There's nothing good on TV nowadays." He complained aloud. He paused and thought about what he had just said. "Fuck, I'm old."
His eyes wandered away from the sitcom and towards the photos on his wall. From his upside down angle, the smiling faces looked strange and somewhat distorted. He had put up more photos of Charlie and her friends since visiting the Hotel. It was his own way of reminding himself that for the first time in thousands of years, he had something to believe in again.
When Lucifer had helped rebuild the hotel, they had made a room for him, but he had decided to come back to his house and pack up his inventions before moving in. He was supposed to be packing today, but he had given up after the first box of rubber ducks and turned on the television instead. Why can't I do anything right?
Ding-Dong!
The doorbell rang, making Lucifer jump. He scrambled to get up, but he slipped and fell off the couch clumsily, hitting his head on the floor. "Shit..." He muttered as he walked to the door, rubbing his forehead irritably. He grabbed his hat from its hook and pulled it on before opening the door. "Yello?" He said, putting on a charming smile.
The Radio Demon smiled back at him, much more menacingly. "Oh," Lucifer rolled his eyes. "It's you. What do you want, Bambi?"
Alastor squinted at him, tilting his head to the side. Does he ever stop smiling? Lucifer wondered. "I'm here to discuss something rather serious...your highness." He said venomously, his voice dropping on the last word.
Lucifer hesitated, contemplating his options. I could slam the door in his smug little face...but ugh, Charlie would hate me for that. "Would you like to come in?" He said through gritted teeth, forcing himself to sound somewhat polite.
Surprisingly, Alastor made no snide remark, just bowed his head respectfully and stepped inside. Lucifer watched as his red eyes roamed the house, the crooked photos and piles of rubber ducks. "What a charming place you have here." He said simply.
"Yeah, yeah." Lucifer led Alastor to the living room and motioned for him to sit down, which he did on the couch. He then started wiping his monocle on his shirt, even though it wasn't dirty. Lucifer gestured to the plate of duck shaped cookies on the coffee table. "Help yourself."
"No thank you." Alastor replaced his monocle. He placed his hands on his lap, looking...awkward. Why is he so uncomfortable? He's usually a cocky little bastard. Lucifer thought to himself. He was about to ask the Radio Demon why he had come, but Alastor spoke first. "I'm afraid there has been a bit of a situation at the Hotel."
"Oh?" Lucifer raised his eyebrows. He paused, putting his cookie back onto the plate. "Wait, why are you telling me this and not Charlie?"
Alastor looked down, staring at something on the floor. "She has been kidnapped."
Silence. Lucifer stared at him for a good five minutes before standing up. "Is this a joke?" He asked, his voice dangerously low. He clenched his fists, feeling heat rise in his chest. Tell me you're joking, you redheaded fuck.
