Chapter Text
Alastor was feeling great, fantastic even. He had escaped both his deals with his remarkable cunning, and his staff had been repaired. But best of all, he still brought a slight frown to Lucifer’s face every time he strode past.
How very entertaining! Alastor had been hoping that little stunt the noisy picture box had pulled would leave Lucifer a little humbled, but it was alright. He could adapt and overcome. Especially now that little angel had taken over the hotel and Charlie had started focusing more of her efforts on group therapy.
Yes, without his daughter around, and armed with the knowledge that Lucifer couldn’t truly smite him, Alastor had grown ever bolder in his actions towards the fallen angel. A smirk here and there, broadcasting the most earbleeding screeches over his radio at night, and just last week, Alastor had leaned down with his hands on his knees to talk to him. The reactions he got were always so animated! The king of hell himself, bristling with annoyance sent his way!
Alastor aimed to get under his skin so thoroughly, Lucifer would wish he never had –
A knock on the main hotel door. “Hello? Hey, princess! I’m here!”
A static screech echoed throughout the bustling hotel, drowned out by the sound of chattering sinners. Alastor’s eyes narrow.
Vaggie – or Vaggi, now, Alastor supposed – tries to get up from her position at the counter. “Hey! I said, fuck off!” Vaggi scowls and tries to shake a few diminutive sinners off her leg. There was always some manner of tomfoolery going on at this barbaric hotel. “I… shit, hang on a sec!”
“Oh! Don’t worry, Charlie’s girlfriend!” Lucifer replies in a cheery, singsong voice. With a flourish, he spreads his wings and takes to the air. “I’m always happy to help with my daughter’s efforts! You go deal with those… uh, delightful gentlemen… and I’ll just flit on over!”
Vaggi’s eyes go wide with panic. “Wait, no -”
It was too late. Lucifer opens the door and freezes. The moment he realises who was standing before him, his face immediately bunches up into a snarl. “Hey! What are YOU doing here?!”
Alastor stares in the direction of the opened door, his smile turning a shade nearer to a sneer. He had heard smatterings of conversation between Charlie and the Vees. He knew his old rival had been deposited here for the near future: powerless, humbled and obviously begging for any scrap of good ratings to get even a fraction of his power back.
Alastor takes a step closer to the door, mouth opened to hurl another petty insult, when Lucifer makes the first strike with a furious, “FUCK you, Vox!”
…Vox?
Another screech of static. Alastor’s jaw slams shut.
Lucifer knew that stupid TV’s name?
Lucifer had called Alastor a lot of things. Red guy, dumb deer, Bambi, and even strawberry pimp (stolen from Angel Dust) but never his name.
Alastor must have missed the rest of what Lucifer had said, because now Vox is holding his hands up in peaceful surrender. Lucifer stands there, posturing with his horns out, snarling. “Woaaaah, hey, Lu,” Vox says smoothly with a grin. “Come on now, it was just one time! So I put you in a tank of angelic steel and used you to destroy half the town… aaaaand humiliated you in front of your daughter and all of hell – but – you know, it was pretty fucking funny, wasn’t it? Can’t we just let bygones be bygones, eh? Eh?”
Alastor’s head spins and he sucks in a deep breath.
Lu?
Since when the hell were Lucifer and Vox on a first name basis? On a damn nickname basis?
Lucifer breathes in and out deeply, his eyes red. With speed and precision, Lucifer grabs Vox by the tie of his sweater vest, forcefully angling his head down. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here,” he spits in Vox’s screen face. “I’ll show you bygones –”
Oh no, that won’t do! Alastor coughs, materialising beside them both. “My, my! It’s not every day the king of hell himself loses his composure so easily, isn’t it, hmmmm?” Alastor’s grin and tone of voice hid a darker edge behind them. “My old chum, what a pleasure! I must say, Vox, defeat looks great on you!”
Vox glares at Alastor. Lucifer’s grip on Vox tightens. “Hey, bad hair, we’re kinda in the middle of something here,” Lucifer retorts.
“Seriously, it was one fucking time! Let it go already!” Vox twists out of Lucifer’s grip and jabs Alastor’s chest with his index finger. “The fuck are you doing here, Al? Come to yell at me? Gloat about your victory?”
“Hmm, no, actually, but thank you for the enlightened opportunity!” Alastor says with a tight grin. He watches Lucifer behind Vox. His initial bewildered expression slowly morphs into one of absolute rage as it sinks in that Vox is ignoring Lucifer for Alastor. Alastor may not like the smarmy, touchy, waaay-too-obsessive CEO, but the look on Lucifer’s face was priceless.
“Excuse me? Excuse ME! What is this?” Lucifer grabs Vox’s arm and yanks him back towards him. Vox looks surprised before the signature scowl breaks out again. “When the king of hell is talking to you, you look at him, okay?!” Lucifer points between Vox and himself rapidly, voice taking on a shrill edge. “I know you’re not very smart, you’re stuuupid actually, but come on! I’m still mad at you!”
“Well I’m not,” Vox says with an almost bored roll of his eyes. “Look, it’s hell, that kinda shit happens all the time.”
“You!” A sharp shake of Vox by the shoulders. “Are ignoring ME!” Lucifer spreads his wings for emphasis. “For this… Bambi guy!” Lucifer gestures aggressively over to Alastor. “What’s your name again?”
“Alastor,” he replies with an audible glitch in his voice.
“Yeah, Alistair!” Lucifer says with a little too much false cheer.
Even Vox looks at Lucifer weirdly for that. “Uh, he’s the fucking radio demon? How don’t you know his name?” And frankly, Alastor doesn’t know what to feel about this.
“I don’t listen to the radio,” Lucifer huffs. “Meanwhile, your goddamn voice is all over the city wherever I walk! Even teleporting does nothing! Has no one ever talked to you about reducing the number of ads in Pentagram City?”
“What? No? Why would you want less ads?”
“Are you telling me,” Alastor hisses with a smile turned sinister, “you heard of Vox before his delusions of grandeur?”
It’s Lucifer’s turn to blink. “Uh, yeah, who hasn’t heard of the guy? Like, everyone’s phones are from Voxtek? He controls the news? His dumb head is a TV?” Lucifer’s voice turns condescending, infantile, as if Alastor is a particularly stupid child he has to explain basic algebra to.
Alastor’s eye twitches. Vox takes a deep breath, and with obvious great effort, drags his gaze away from Alastor. Vox swears and grumbles under his breath, squeezing past Lucifer and Alastor forcefully. He picks up his three huge luggages outside and deposits them with the bellhop.
“Well, Lu, it’s been fun catching up,” Vox says, his hands clasped together in a facsimile of a business meeting pose, “and Al, apparently part of my punishment, I mean, therapy, is learning to ignore you.” Vox snaps his fingers at Alastor. “Yeah, that’s right! I’m ignoring you, you fucking dickhead! I’m not falling for your tricks again!”
“Oh, you wish,” Alastor says ominously.
Vox bristles. “Ugh, whatever, you won, okay? Hey, you, just,” Vox sighs and rubs his arm. “If you agree to fuck off I will, okay?”
“What about me?” Lucifer interjects.
Vox rolls his eyes to the ceiling, sucking in a deep breath and releasing it in a very exaggerated way. “What about you? The laser cannon thing was a month ago!”
“You think that means I’m gonna let it go?” Lucifer demands, stepping forward. “And it’s not just the cannon thing! All the slander and propaganda against the hotel?”
Vox cackles. “Oh shit, forgot I did that.”
“And worst of all, making me look bad in front of my daughter?!”
Vox is scrolling through his phone and walking away. “Okay yeah, yeah whatever, bitch. Listen closely, okay? Your daughter’s dumb as bricks, she’ll forget that shit in another week,” Vox laughs. It’s not even in a sadistic way. He laughs as though as if he’s simply only heard a particularly funny joke. He throws a middle finger back at Lucifer. “Look I’m fucking tired as hell and it’s nearly midnight so I’ll talk to you tomorrow if you still wanna whine about it, okay?”
“You can’t just –” Vox walks upstairs and Lucifer deflates. “Dismiss me like that! Hello! Seriously?!”
Alastor looks at the fallen angel, looking so defeated. His own grin curves upwards by the tiniest degree as he contemplates the new reality of his situation. Symbols glow green and hover behind Alastor’s back. He pays no mind to the other hotel guests who scrabble backward in fear.
How very entertaining Vox’s stay was proving to be.