to hell and back.

I sit alone in my office, drinking Captain Morgan straight from the bottle for what seems like far too long of a time.

I do a lot of thinking while I'm sitting there, with my feet kicked lazily up over the top of my glass desk. I guess I could have gone back out after a while to hang out with Angel, but I didn't. Deep down I kind of enjoyed taking a little bit of time to be alone. It allowed me to get away from the irksome feeling that always accompanies me when I'm around the demons.

Even though I've been down here for... I don't know, at least several days, I'm still not used to the newness of it. Alastor's creepy presence always lurking and listening, Charlie's cheerful voice always chirping something inspiring, Vaggie's dark, conceded eyes always watching for hints, Angel's flamboyant personality always making you feel either very shy or very confident. Every wall and every floor red or black, every light or lamp acting more as a vacant void than a source of energy. It's always just so... weird. And irksome.

Just as I'm taking another swig of my drink, my office door swings open, causing me to nearly choke on the burning liquid in my throat. I carefully swallow it before pulling the bottle away from my face to see Vaggie standing in the doorway, her hair falling lusciously, but also mysteriously, over that odd crossed-out place on her face where her second eye should be. She watches me as I swing my legs down from their position on my desk and straighten my posture.

I look up at her again. She shoots an accusing frown at me, then at the bottle which now sits silently on my desk where my feet had been, then back up at me.

"Charlie's decorating for the Christmas party," she says, her frown not fading in the slightest. "Would you like to come to help? I mean, if you aren't too busy..."

I giggle a little bit at that moment because I love when she frowns. Not that it makes her look any more attractive or anything, but in a weird way, it suits her face. "No, I'm not busy. Not at all," I say, only slurring slightly. I can feel the unstoppable grin on my cheeks.

I stand and follow Vaggie out of my office. The bottle of Captain Morgan stays sitting on my desk, probably to be consumed at another time, but not right now. I'm already tipsy enough; I don't want to get too wasted trying to help hold a Christmas party. Especially not with the constant threat of Alastor showing up to try and manipulate me some more.

If Angel were here, he would encourage me to drink more. And probably suggest I snort a few lines to top it off.

Vaggie leads me across the lobby to a large, fancily decorated room with sturdy wooden floors, a dining table set against the length of one of the walls, and even a couple of vintage red couches surrounding an old jukebox. Ugly rust is lining the old metal edges of the big thing. I notice after a moment that it's playing Christmas music very softly. When I recognize the song, my mouth immediately tastes like frosted sugar cookies and the air smells like fresh pine needles and melted marshmallows. My mom used to play this song every Christmas morning as she danced around the kitchen, preparing plentiful dishes of gourmet food for the family dinner we always hosted Christmas evening. In my alcohol induced state, I can almost feel the brush of her palm against my head as she watches me opening my first gift of the morning.

"Are you crying?" someone asks nearby, and I feel some invisible force pushing my consciousness back into reality. I blink, gather my bearings, then focus my gaze on Vaggie, who is standing directly in front of me. The frown is back on her face. "Dear Lord and Satan combined, do you ever stop crying?"

I raise my hands to my cheeks and wipe away the salty water that has dripped down my face. "Oh. I didn't even realize that I was crying." I don't make eye contact with her.

The weird feeling is coming back to me. The irksome, unwelcoming feeling. Just by being around her, it washes over me like a splash of cold water.

"Oh. Okay. Well, Charlie's decorating the tree with Niffty, so maybe we should do something else. That is, if we really need to do anything. The whole place already looks pretty decked out to me."