Achieving Heaven Through Hell Part 1: A Peaceful Afterlife

Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Maintaining Abstinence

Angel strutted down the street, high heels clopping on the pavement, he opened his pocket mirror and gave himself a once over, glancing at the dour panther-demon following close after. "Hey, lighten up! You'll like this place, it's real classy!"

"I doubt that."

"Well, anyway, we'll be meeting a buddy of mine for some chitty-chat, so try to be on your best behavior."

"I'll restrain myself, somehow." Kira frowned, looking away.

"Alright," said Angel, snapping the mirror closed and turning around to face Kira. "What's your deal. Why'd ya offer to nanny me if ya were gonna be miserable the whole time?"

Kira hesitated for a moment before saying: "I wanted to thank you. For the other night."

Angel eyed him, an incredulous look on his face. "What? Why? We didn't even get to the good part, or do ya like being blue-balled?"

"I didn't know I could control myself once I got that far along. I never tried before, and I wouldn't have known without you. You helped me see that I have more control over myself than I thought. So, thank you."

Angel chuckled, casting an arm over Kira's and kissing him on the cheek. "Hey, any time Big Cat! Though, if ya really wanna thank me ya could go ahead and finish the job next time! Nothin's worse than gettin' good and revved up and bein' left to peel the banana with nothin' but sweet dreams and a suit-noose."

"...What?"

"Y'know, playin' five on one with broke puffer. Blue-faced Jay Owen? The Ol' loose-doorknob! Wheezy white-water wristin'! Drivin' stick while pullin' the choke! The Beverly Hills Necktie! Skinnin' and scarfin'! Spank'n'strangle!"

Kira pinched between his eyes and took off down the sidewalk. "Stop."

Angel cackled and skipped after him. "Hey! I'm done with the tie, ya wannit back?"

"No."

"You sure? It's nice! Really soft!"

"Burn it."

They strolled past the still-burning wreck of a pickup truck, a twisted mass of smoking metal, a semi-circle of demons roasted hotdogs and marshmallows over the flames. Across the street was Pole Katz, a delightfully sleazy affair, the bass of the club music inside thudding like a druggie's heart. Angel burst through the door and inhaled, his arms spreading wide as he drank in the atmosphere; the smell of booze, of sweat, of sex in the back rooms. Dancers of all shapes and sizes ground and spun on poles atop stages as a teeming mob of demons waxed and waned in waves to the rhythm of the music. Angel was dimly aware that Charlie was probably 100% right that this was terrible for his rehabilitation, but mostly he was just ecstatic to be out amongst his people again, away from the crushing boredom and uncertainty of the hotel. He just wanted to unwind a bit with his buddies.

"Heeey!" A familiar voice crowed over the pounding music, he scanned the room and saw her at a booth, waving her hand at him fervently: Cherri Bomb. "Aaaaaangel!"

He laughed and run across the room. "Cherri!"

Angle and Cherri met in a friendly embrace, with her pulling away and looking him up and down. "You look like shit!"

"Rehab's a bitch and so are you!" Angel said, laughing. "Saw ya on the news this mornin'! Didja put that tube-steak in his place?"

Cherri grinned even wider and laughed. "You could say that! Got some good times planned for that prissy little shit-tin! I, uh..." she looked over his shoulder, smile fading somewhat. "Uh, hey, Angel, looks like you got an accountant following you."