By The Light Of The Blood Moon

The Best Laid Plans

Alastor knocked on the door for the second time, his tattered patience already beginning to wear thin. This whole day had been a never-ending trial and each time Alastor dared to guess that he might have the situation under control, someone or something would change everything back into unorganized chaos. Although Alastor didn't mind causing chaos, he did not appreciate dealing with the chaos that others could stir up, and Angel was exceptionally adept at causing chaos.

"Angel!" he called out to the closed door, knocking once more, a bit louder this time. "I need to speak with you, and it won't wait. Please open the door." He demanded, although he tried to make it sound more like a request. He listened intently for an answer, but could only hear the shuffling of things and...singing? Perhaps it was loud humming, but there was music on the other side of the door. Having waited longer than he thought possible, Alastor decided that this was the time for action. Fishing the master key from his pocket, he thrust it into the knob and opened the door to reveal a semi-nude Angel Dust prancing around his room.

He was concentrating intently on an extremely short black dress, held up in front of his chest and leaving little to the imagination...Alastor could feel his face beginning to burn as he realized that this dress would barely cover, well, anything that Angel had. As Angel turned to and fro, seeming to admire himself from every angle, Alastor could see that he was wearing earbuds, and humming along to what Angel would refer to as music, but to Alastor's ears it sounded very much like rubbish. Looking away from the spectacle before him, and tapping his microphone stand on the floor twice, quite forcefully, the noise in Angel's ears suddenly stopped and he whipped immediately around to see Alastor standing in the doorway.

"Hey" he sauntered slowly over to where Alastor was still standing with an uncomfortable grin plastered across the face of the radio demon. "Like what you see, my deer?" he asked, gesturing down his own body with his one free hand.

Alastor snorted in disgust as he looked away. "So vulgar" he replied, aside.

The spider didn't seem to let the insult phase him in the least, turning back towards his closet and tossing the black dress into a crumpled pile of clothes in the floor. He was now reaching for another tasteless little number, Alastor couldn't quite decide if it was more little or more tasteless.

"If ya didn't come to ogle, whaddayawant?" he called out over his shoulder to his uncomfortable compatriot, who was busily taking in the sheer volume of clothing that had been discarded onto the floor into several scattered heaps.

"I came here to speak to you about this masquerade ball business" he said uneasily, using his shadows to gently pick up the haphazardly discarded clothing, folding it and stacking neatly on the bed. "I take it from the disarray of your living quarters that you are planning to attend it now?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised.

"So, what if I do, Bambi?" he shot a quick look over his shoulder to Alastor, who ignored the insult save for rolling his eyes. "I think I'm old enough to make up my own mind by now." He dropped the dress he was examining and picked up a different, but no less trashy outfit, pulling it across his midsection and turning left, then right to see it from different angles. It really didn't matter what angle he used, that dress simply did not suit him.

"Ah yes," Alastor replied, "you certainly are, my dear, but what changed your mind, then?" he queried, his eyes narrowing a bit and his smile a bit larger, flashing his yellowed teeth. "As I understood it before, you wanted no part of this entire debacle"

"Had a visitor yesterday. Asked me to come as a personal favor." Angel replied, seeming to be more interested in the latest dress he had picked out of the closet. It looked a fraction better, but still it didn't suit him at all. Apparently, Angel agreed with Alastor on the dress, as it found a new home next to his left foot, again, in a heap. Alastor's shadows busily continued to fold the errant clothing, the neat stacks on the bed now outnumbering the piles remaining on the floor.

"Let me guess," Alastor said dryly, "Mr. Valentino, I presume?" Angel never looked up, continuing to appraise his reflection with the latest selection, a sea foam green number that looked more like a negligee than an evening gown fit for a ball.

"Mmmmhmmm..." he hummed in reply, absentmindedly. "What do ya think of this one, Al?" Angel asked, prompting a defeated sigh in response from Alastor. "Yeah." Muttered Angel. "That's what I thought of it too." He said, dropping it to the floor. He turned around to face Alastor, still in only his briefs, which bothered Alastor much more than it appeared to phase Angel. "Listen," he said, looking Alastor in the eye, and placing all four hands on his hips. "I still ain't convinced that he's up to anything but his regular shit, but I feel like I hafta give him the chance, as a favor to Charlie. She's damn sure given me more chances than I deserve." Angel turned away, feeling vulnerable after making such a genuine statement. It was rare that he let anyone in on what he was really thinking, and oddly enough, he trusted Alastor. "But if'n you tell anybody I said that I will swear you're a damn liar. I still gotta reputation ta protect." He laughed nervously.

"That...." Said Alastor slowly "actually makes sense, Angel." He laid a hand gently on Angel's shoulder.

"Yeah?" he said, turning and looking up to Alastor's eyes. "Well, I get to bring a plus one." He said. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Al, but I'd feel better if it was you." Angel wasn't certain of how Alastor would view this request, but if there was any demon that Angel felt he could trust to have his back with Val and Nox, he knew that Alastor was his best bet. Besides, even though they argued like brothers, he and Alastor had their own kind of closeness, and Angel did consider Al to be his friend. He also wasn't too hard on the eyes and Angel had a not-so-secret flame for Alastor since the first time they met. Going with him might make this whole shindig kinda fun.

"Angel," whispered Alastor, smiling as always, "are you asking me to a dance?" he snickered. Angel Dust laughed with him.

"Yeah," said Angel. "I guess I am. Wanna go? Whadaya say?"

"I think" said Alastor "That if I am taking you to a ball," his smile widened "we will need to go shopping for a dress. These" he gestured to the neatly folded stacks on the bed "simply do not suit you. Nor do they suit me."

"Hey!" argued Angel, feeling a bit abused by Alastor's honest evaluation of his wardrobe "Are you saying that I have no taste?" He was only half kidding, although he was smiling when he said it.

"Oh, no, my dear fellow. Not at all." He said gently, his eyes shining. "I am saying that you have terrible taste! A hahahahahaha!" he laughed. "Now you'll need to put something on and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes. We have to a dress to find!"

"So, you'll go, then?" Angel asked expectantly

"Yes, my dear," he answered "I will go. Now please, for the love of Lucifer, put on some clothes!" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and turning to leave, his head shaking.