Standard Disclaimer: The show, Brimstone, and all characters in it, including
             Ezekiel Stone and the Devil, belong to Fox and not us. We have just borrowed
             them for a while and will put them back when we're done. Honest! We are poor
             as ragged churchmice and what's left belongs to the Universal Unconscious. Sue
             at your own risk. We're so broke we can't even pay attention.

             by LadySerez and Lady Rhian

             Another day, another lunch break with the secretaries from Hell...

             The bell rang, deep and doleful. It was abruptly cut off by a scream. The
             secretaries of Hell were coming back for yet another lunch break...

             "I got another Heavenogram from upstairs today. Little fluffbrains sent me
             another white Dove. Thing didn't last more than a minute.... I'm tired of
             cleaning up the damn things. They crap all over the paperwork, then die from
             the air, and the imps find them and bite the head off, leaving the rest for me
             to find."

             "What'd these twerps have to say?" A secretary took a swig of grog, then
             coughed. "Fuck! Fuck!" She extracted a small imp, who grinned obscurely at
             her. With a grin, she flung it just so...its trajectory leading it to the
             attack squid that was on the menu today. A tussle ensued, guards putting bets

             "Oh, the usual. 'Having a wonderful day, don't you wish you were up here'.
             That sort of thing."

             "Don't you *wish* you were up here..." the male secretary snorted. "You know,
             I hate to admit it, but Hell is much more interesting than Heaven. I mean,
             where else would you have secretaries doing what we do?"

             "Satan," one of the secretaries said grouchily. "I'd hate having to deal with
             those fluffbrains every day. Or even worse, be one."

             "True. True. At least the Big Suave wears decent clothes. I hear the Poobah up
             there is still wearing bloodstained robes and sandals. I tell you, there's a
             limit to self-torture."

             "'We got Mother Theresa,' one of the secretaries parroted. "They should've had
             to deal with Hitler. Or Mao."

             "And if it isn't the Doves, it's those damn packets of 'goodness and light'.
             As if any of that has a snowball's chance of surviving down here..."

             "Don't even mention *those*. Mammon got one, and was harassing us left and
             right for DAYS... 'This is Hell,' he was screaming, as if we didn't know. At
             least Sally Ann distracted him, that is before his wife took her apart."

             "Or Pol Pot. Ick. Have you ever heard a more self-centered, whining, mass
             murderer of a fool?" A secretary pulled out a file and started doing her
             nails. "Did you hear what Miriam did? Grinned at him, then led him to this
             perfectly lovely closet where.."

             The secretaries crowded close to hear the story. Muted chuckles resounded
             through the cafeteria. The guards and the cook looked worried and began
             checking that they were all intact.

             "Look at those wimps over there. Checking their baskets, as if we were
             interested in those. Rapists get those, mass murderers don't!"

             "So, what's the latest on the Stone situation?" One of the secretaries asked,
             too casually.

             In the background, the busboy started fighting with something that looked like
             a gargoyle. The cook noticed and ran to help. The guards still were protecting
             their jewels.

             Another cook ran by with a fire extingusher. He hit the spray button, but it
             didn't work. "That's fucking Hell for you!" he yelled. As a last resort, he
             bashed the gargoyle over the head, making it drop to the floor, unconscious,
             and giving the cooks a chance to check its tags.

             "He sent back the three-in-one case. Poor Kid repented, not that it got him
             anywhere. And the English bloke keeps insisting they should all stay in the
             same cell, just like old times."

             "Just like Benedict, poor man. Miriam's started sending petitions up for him
             now, which tells you a lot, doesn't it?" The secretary caught her breath. "And
             that damned English bloke--he pinched Eleanor on the butt, not once, but three

             "That poor boy kept apologizing..."

             "No, no," the same secretary said. "The *other* situation..." She straightened
             her finger and coughed.

             "Oh, *that*? Yes." the other secretary bit her lips. "The Big Suave's got a
             hard on for you-know-who."

             "I have an idea," one of the secretaries announced proudly. All the other
             secretaries left off talking to stare at her. She coughed at the unexpected
             weight of all those stares and took a gulp of her coffee. "One of the incubi
             owes me a favor. We could send him up there to plant the idea in Stone's head.
             You know, the Boss, a bed, a night of fun... Wank, wank... you get the idea."

             "Sounds good," one of the secretaries allowed. "But you know that if the Boss
             catches wind of it, we're gonna be in deep dogshit."

             "What, like Pol Pot? What the Big Suave doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides,
             the man *needs* it. He tried to kill the Hea-mail  the other day. And you know
             what mess it leaves after it expires.."

             "So? What is he gonna do? Kill us? What torture could possibly be worse than
             working for Belial? I've survived that."

             Screams broke out behind the counter, as one of the octupus decided to mount a
             escape attempt, and in doing so, twined itself around a guard's head,
             therefore turning the other guards' attention away.

             The secretaries would later wonder if that had been on purpose...

             "Getta off! Getta fuck off!" howled the guard. He twisted around, frantically
             trying to get it off. The cook advanced with a cleaver, clearly intending to
             chop the octupus off. The invertebrate, no stupid he, decided to jump to

             The cleaver flew through the air and took the guard's ear with it. "Hey, you
             look like Van Gogh," remarked a laughing guard. "You stupid fuck. I *am* Van

             "Okay, then. Are we agreed?" The secretary looked around the table. No one
             else spoke. "Fine, let's do it."

             Ezekiel Stone woke out of a deep and dreamless sleep to the sensation of
             someone watching him. For a moment, he laid still in bed and tried to think
             who it might be.

             A soft, familliar chuckle confirmed his suspicions. "Still determined to be
             human, Ezekiel?" the Devil's voice was rich with amusment.

             The incubus stared at the beautiful man before it. Oh, this wouldn't be *too*
             hard to do. He'd been worried when one of the secretaries pulled in the favor
             he owed her. Who knew what one of *those* wanted?

             Stone reached up to turn on the light, but stopped when he felt the Devil's
             hand come down on his arm. Strangely, he felt the hand move slowly up his
             naked arm, in a manner that could only be called 'caressing'. No, that
             couldn't be. This was just too strange.

             "What do you want?" his voice sounded strangely naked and defenseless in the
             dark. He resisted the temptation to jerk his arm away, even when the hand
             moved to his chest and then downward.

             There was a maliciously amused note in the Devil's voice. "Can't you figure it
             out? I thought you were a detective."

             A moment of confusion turned into uncertainty and dread. "You have to be

             "Do I sound like I'm laughing?" The Devil's other hand, almost too warm to be
             human, was pressed against his scalp, fingers threading through his hair.

             "Too much. You're asking too much," Zeke replied, staying perfectly still.
             "It's not enough I have to be your agent. Do I have to be your whore, too?"

             The Devil silenced him with a kiss. Zeke tried to draw back, but succeeded
             only in pulling the Devil down on top of him. The other man was just as naked
             as he was. "Self-confident bastard," Zeke thought.

             The kiss wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. In fact, it wasn't bad
             at all, and that scared him a lot more than any torture he'd ever suffered in
             Hell. Even worse was the Devil's body on his. The rough hair and male body
             should have felt wrong. But it didn't.

             The Devil broke the kiss, hot breath gusting against Zeke's shoulder. "Well,
             well, aren't we the eager one?" the Devil said, hands sliding down Zeke's
             body, the rough thumbs caressing his nipples.

             Zeke shuddered at the pleasantly erotic sensations the rubbing evoked. He
             could feel a warmth pooling in his groin. With anyone else, he would have
             welcomed the familiar heat of arousal. But the Devil wasn't just anyone.

             One of those rough fingered hands slipped down his body to encircle the
             hardening cock. The rough stroke that followed nearly jerked Stone upright in
             reaction. A low moan of pleasure filled the room, and Stone had a hard time
             believing it came from his own mouth. His hands clenched in the sheets. He
             tried to convince himself he didn't want this. Tried and failed.

             He began to wonder not what he would do if the Devil didn't stop, but what he
             would do if the other man did. He was fully erect now, his cock pulsing with
             pleasure and need. He felt the Devil's hot mouth kissing its way down his body
             to his groin, and then he was engulfed in wet heat.

             A long moan blew past Stone's lips, his hips bucking in response, driving his
             swollen cock deep into the Devil's mouth. The long tongue slithered around him
             in a slow swirling motion, and when he could feel again, Stone found his hands
             buried in the Devil's hair, holding his head in place to make him continue.

             A soft chuckle told him the Devil was aware of all of this, and found it
             deliciously amusing. But, instead of tossing off a smart remark, he flicked
             his tongue back and forth over the underside of Stone's cock, sending a thrill
             of heat and sensation spearing into Stone's groin. Zeke was barely aware of
             the outside world, everything was shut out but the delicious sensations
             searing through his cock and the feel of soft hair in his hands.

             Even in the dark, he closed his eyes, moaning and groaning as that incredibly
             long tongue slithered around his cock. He found himself rocking his hips,
             shuddering as the Devil's lips rubbed against his shaft.

             How could he ever have not wanted this? How could he have wanted it to end?
             Another cry of pleasure tore out of his throat, and the world went white as
             his body convulsed and he began to come. As the semen shot out of him, warmth
             and a curious weakness pervaded his body, leaving him unable to do anything
             but lie there and feel the intense pleasure

             Later, he was dimly aware of the Devil wishing him a good sleep. With a faint
             chuckle and a warning not to mention this again, the other man was gone.

             "You want me to do *what*?!?" The cook stared at Belial in disbelief. He'd
             thought he'd heard it all. The cannibal's request for tender virgin flesh,
             Hitler's obssession with vegetables (if only he'd been content with
             veggies...), His Majesty's haggis. But this? This?

             "You want me to, uh, make a gourment dish out of this?" The cook held up a
             bowl of calf's kidneys and wilted asparagus in the other.

             "Yes." Belial looked pleased, the cook had finally caught on.

             "Oh. If you'd just have a seat, sir." the cook looked with dawning concern at
             the stuff Belial'd given him.

             The busboy looked over his shoulder, and sighed. "If that was raw fish and
             rice, you could have made sushi. I miss sushi."

             "I don't give a fuck what you miss. Did you get the food ready for the slurry?
             Good. Pour the bisque in. And make sure there's nothing alive in there."

             "That's gonna be hard to do," the busboy remarked as he watched a lobster try
             to escape. "Couldn't you have, you know, pulled the meat out instead of
             tossing the lobsters in?"

             "Critics, critics. In case you didn't notice, asshole, regulations clearly say
             there *has* to be something alive at every meal." The cook glanced at the
             food. "Get me some marinade."

             The secretaries all trooped in, at this point. They were all chattering away,
             anxiously awaiting news from the incubus.

             "Belial wants a fancy meal, I'll give him one. Look on the bright side,
             Yamato. At least he can't kill us again."

             The cook pulled out a frying pan, threw out a imp, and heated it up. As he
             went about his business of cooking, Yamato hopped up onto a stool and
             cautiously watched for the gargoyle.

             As the smoke rose up from the pan, Yamato watched. He remembered all too well
             the last time Belial had demanded something from the last cook. Nimitz was
             great at bluffing, and he could probably actually pull it off.

             One of the secretaries looked at the snapping lobster on her plate and
             shuddered. "Insects again?" she said. "You think they could come up with a new
             idea once in a while." She picked up her knife and stabbed the lobster several
             times before the blunt end of the knife broke through the shell. It screamed
             faintly and died.

             "Wonder how the "Talk" went?" asked a secretary.

             "We'll know in a minute. Here he comes."

             A dark-haired young man swaggered into the room, acting as if the bulge at his
             groin was his center of gravity. "Hello ladies," he shouted cheerfully,
             wagging his bulge at them.

             "Oh, no." One of the secretaries said in dread. "You had to send Eblis after
             him, didn't you?"

             "Incubi. All the same, confident that they're attractive to damn near

             "Eblis?!?! The most horniest, aggressive incubus? Oh, Margot, how could you?"

             "He owed me a favor. Know any other incubi willing to give us a break and not
             tell the boss?"

             All the secretaries nodded, accepting Margot's explanation. "So, Eblis, how'd
             it go?" Margot asked.

             The young man swaggered up to the table. "Hey ladies, if I said you had a
             lovely body, would you hold it against me?"

             Meanwhile, Nimitz had finally gotten the meal Belial wanted cooked.

             "Here it is, sir. All cooked and done. There's nothing alive on the plate.
             Enjoy!" the cook tried imitating a chef by the name of Wolfgang and failed

             "Not bad. Not bad at all." In a wink of a eye, Belial ate it all. "And now,
             for some dessert."


             "Tail sex!" With a lusty laugh, Belial started chasing Nimitz around the
             tables, past the guards, and out the doors. Yelling followed. A dove staggered
             in and dropped down on one of the secretaries' plate. She looked at the bird
             with disgust.

             The Incubus smacked his lips. "Very tasty! I'd almost have done that one for
             free." He leaned over to whisper something in the ear of one of the
             secretaries. She colored bright red while Eblis chuckled.

             "So, what happened?"

             The young incubus shrugged. "It was strange, y'know? I showed up, all ready
             for a little sport, and he had the nerve to try and resist me for a while." He
             popped a bit of lobster claw in his mouth, shell and all, and chewed.

             The dove sighed and imploded. "Ahhh! Ahh! Shit. And I just got this clean
             after that incident with the vultures..."

             "Resist? Surely you jest. After all, no one can resist a incubus..." remarked

             "Yeah, I know," the Incubus said. "It *was* funny. Almost..."


             "Almost as if, no, that can't be. I'd have known if it were."

             "Stop blathering on and say it," yelled one of the secretaries.

             The lobsters picked that moment to try and engineer an mass escape. The
             secretaries could hear Yamato yell for help from the other cook, Patton.
             "Patton! Patton! Get the tongs!"

             "Not *those* tongs, the Chinese gang kind!" Yamato was still shrieking.

             "Almost as if he was one of us."

             The Incubus spat out bits of shell and rose. With a pinch on a young
             secretary's butt, he left the rest of them, dumbfounded, behind.

             The End

             Yamato, Nimitz, van Gogh and Patton were real people. Yamato was the Admiral
             in charge of the Japanese Navy (and planned the attack on Pearl Harbor).
             Yamato opposed the attack on Pearl Harbor--he said that it wasn't wise to
             awake the sleeping giant that was America. But since he'd been ordered, he did
             it.  He was killed in 1943 in China by an American plane who didn't know who
             they'd just killed.

             Nimitz was Yamato's mortal enemy, Admiral of the American Navy. He engineered
             the victory at Midway and Wake Island, opening the way to invade Japan.

             Van Gogh was a Impressionalist painter of the 1840's--he was quite mad when he
             died. However, before he died he cut off his ear.

             Patton was the general in charge of the Army corps in Africa, met up with
             Rommel a few times, started the invasion of Italy, drove all the way to the
             Battle of the Bulge, won the battle for west Germany. He also thought he was
             the reincarnation of Alexander the, I'm not kidding. He did do a
             good imitation, through. After all this...he died as a result of a car
             accident in 1945 just outside Bulgorne, Germany.


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