Disclaimer: I don't own Albino Alligator or any of the characters or other things associated with it. I don't intend to make any money from this.

Author's Note: If you are planning to review, please read my profile first. Also, if I continue this story the rating will change. K only applies to the first chapter.

Voodoo and Witches

"Dova Perone?"

"Yeah. Who's this?"

"Officer Antones, police department. We have Lawrence Alston in custody. He asked us to give you a call, as he forfeited his phone privileges when he spat on one of the officers who brought him in."

"What, he's been arrested? What for?"

"Assault. He allegedly punched a co-worker. The guy agreed not to press charges, so we're just keeping Alston here overnight. He'll be free to go at 9am tomorrow."

"Alright. Thanks", Dova said, and hung up.

"What's wrong?" Milo asked, looking up from his book as Dova came back into the living room.

"Law got himself arrested. He's spending the night in jail." He filled Milo in on what few details he had gotten.

Milo took a deep breath, then said uncertainly, "It's just one night. How bad could it be?"

"You're probably right. Nothing to worry about. I'll make dinner. What do you want?"

There was plenty to worry about, of course. Law was terrified of jail. He got tense and jumpy just hearing the word. And then there was what it did for his temper. He was never a very stable person to be around, and anything that upset him increased the risks exponentially.

On top of that, this was the seventh job Law had gotten fired from in as many months. The unemployment agency kept placing him in a new job three weeks after he got fired from the previous one, like clockwork. Law really did try to make these jobs work, at least Dova thought he did. But his temper always got the better of him. In the past seven months, the longest he had held any one job was eleven days.

At least this was the first time he'd actually gotten violent at work. But that worried Dova, too. What if this became part of the pattern? He was damn lucky it was only one night in jail this time. Next time it could be a few months. And if that happened, Dova didn't think he'd be even marginally safe around anyone when he got out.

Unused to cooking, he burned the food onto the pan. Milo smelled it and came into the kitchen. Trying to lighten the mood, he glanced at the mostly black stuff in the pan and gave Dova an amused look. "I knew letting you cook was a bad idea. I bet Law coulda done better than that." They both laughed at that image, and Milo set about cleaning up while Dova ordered a pizza.

Too soon, the good humor was again drowned by apprehension. Most of the pizza got put in the fridge and Milo muttered something about having a headache and went to his room. Dova eventually fell asleep on the couch. Troubled by disturbing dreams, he woke several times and remembered only a feeling of dread.

Around 6am he got up and went to his bedroom to change his clothes and brush his hair. The whole morning felt somehow heavy and ominous. Probably just those weird, messed-up dreams. He shaved and showered and brushed his teeth and then headed down the hall to his brother's room. There he paused, listening to the quiet sounds of breathing as Milo slept.

He wanted to wake him. He still felt uneasy, and Milo was generally so sensible and pragmatic that it would only take him a few minutes to convince Dova how ridiculous his fears were. Besides, Milo would make breakfast when he got up. On the other hand, Milo worked the 9am-6pm shift at the paper mill. He didn't need to get up for another hour. Reluctantly, Dova turned away and headed for the kitchen alone. He could at least make some coffee and toast.

An eternity later, he heard doors opening and closing and the shower running. Grinning he put aside the magazine he'd been staring through and waited, drumming his fingers on the table.

Milo paused in the door and smiled. "Morning, Dova. The world hasn't exploded, and no demons appeared last night to feast on our souls. All in all, it's a promising start to the day."

And just like that, his fears did seem foolish. If they'd been sisters instead of brothers, he would have hugged Milo. Instead, he nodded in mock seriousness and said, "Yes, another successful night in the town of voodoo and witches."

"I guess I'm cooking, huh?"

"Smart guy."

Breakfast was great. Milo was no five-star chef, but he did a fine job on the basics. Every morning the three of them ate together, and while the conversation was less civil when Law was present, it was no less friendly. If Law could be said to have a good time of day, it was morning; the sniping never went beyond amiable banter during breakfast.

When the dishes were stacked in the sink, Milo headed out to catch the bus that would take him to work. The only vehicle they had between them was the old Ford truck, and that was Law's. Dova drove it when he needed to, but Milo never did. It was a hassle to drive in the city, anyway.

Law always drove to work, because he didn't like being surrounded by people on the bus. Dova thought that was a very good thing, actually.

He considered washing the dishes, decided he didn't have time, and grabbed his set of keys and wallet. Belatedly, he wondered which bus went by the jail. And just how messed up was Law likely to be? Would it be safe to take him on a bus? Maybe he should get the truck first and pick him up in that. Which bus went closest to where Law had worked until yesterday? For that matter, where had he been working? This changed so frequently that Dova had lost track.

After finding Law's account number, calling the bank to ask them what company signed his paychecks, and checking the bus schedules, Dova finally started out to get the truck. It was just after 9am.