Lucifer wasn't going to hold back, laughing along with him. Sometimes you just needed to have a giggle with the one you loved, even if it was at the expense of small, relatively harmless creatures that were gaslit until they met their awful demise.

But after taking a breath, wiping a tear from his eye, and trying not to be too squirmy from the touch, he was content to just sit in his husband's lap and soak until he was pruney. But Alastor had a tale, and Lucifer huddled against him, head nestled against his shoulder.

Any story of Alastor's life on earth was fascinating. It was a slice of such a different time, formative in the United States, and breathed so much life into the 'why' of him.

But he was setting the scene, this tale of the 'Axeman', and Lucifer was entranced. God he loved his stories...