By The Light Of The Blood Moon

Short Straws

Alastor turned, walking again to the other side of the room. He'd been pacing and thinking for a good while now, trying to make sense of today. Angel was sitting in Alastor's "reading chair" as he called it, cuddling his pig and thinking aloud, while Alastor had been busy pacing. He couldn't stand the torture of trying to sit down while he was racking his brain for clues of just what was going on. How the devil had Angel picked up this new ability? It wasn't as if there were many in hell that could teleport as Alastor did, and honestly, the deer demon had assumed that he was the only one that could do it, as it relied heavily on his shadow's connection to his own voodoo roots. Angel hadn't any connection to the Loa, and he had never even practiced hoodoo, let alone voodoo. It simply didn't add up and there had to be something that he was missing.

Alastor stopped pacing for a moment as an urge for some bourbon hit him all at once. He was frustrated and at his wits' end. Perhaps a drink might help him to relax a little and unwind enough to figure this out. He peeked at Angel Dust, who was busy blowing raspberries into the belly of his piglet. This picture made Alastor's smile a bit more genuine. He was certain that Angel had no idea of just how adorable he was when he coddled the little pig.

"Angel" he said gently, "I believe I am going downstairs for a bit. I will return soon." Angel nodded in his direction, as he continued to spoil the pig, now holding the pig in his lower hands and rubbing its belly with his upper hands while he blabbered all types of baby talk to the little oinker. "I'll be back soon" he called out, then he teleported himself to the bar, causing Husker's fur to rise as he even gave a tiny hiss.

"Can ya try to not startle the shit outta me?" he complained, embarrassed to have been spooked. "what the hell do you want?" he asked, his back turned as he placed a bottle back on the shelf behind the bar.

"I'd like a bourbon, if you please!" called out Alastor, sounding much more cheerful than he felt.

Husker eyed him suspiciously as he grabbed the bourbon and a glass for his patron. "Should I just leave the bottle here again?" he queried, giving the red demon the side-eye.

"Perhaps for a moment, yes" Alastor answered, more to get a rise out of the old bartender than anything. He had no intentions of getting sloppy drunk again. He had embarrassed himself enough for a bit with that last fiasco, and besides, he loathed those damn hiccups. So embarrassing!

Alastor poured himself a glass, taking just a sip this time, and enjoying the burn of the whisky as it made its way down his throat. He kept turning the events over in his head, but the only thought his head could manage to keep a grasp on was Angel Dust. He kept trying to figure out this puzzle, but his mind wanted to think about how lovely those mismatched eyes were, how impossibly soft his fur was, how delectable he smelled. Alastor found himself hungering for Angel Dust, for his touch, for his scent, just to feel his warmth.

What was going on? It wasn't like Alastor to think of anyone in that way, and certainly not the lewd thoughts he'd just been having. He took a gulp of his bourbon, but in his mind, he was thinking about what Angel would look like under the suit jacket and miniskirt. STOP IT! He shook his head, hoping that would help to clear things up.

He looked at the bottle, noting that he had already had three shots of whisky, and decided that this was enough. If he sat here any longer, he would end up stinking drunk again, and he was not about to make that mistake again. He had far too much to figure out, and he had something else that he needed to do as well. Pushing the glass and the bottle towards Husk, he said an almost cheerful farewell and walked up the stairs to his room. He needed to see Angel, and the sooner the better.

"What the hell is going on around here? I'm too damn sober for this shit." Husk said to no one in particular, swallowing another mouthful of cheap booze.