Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In retrospect, Chloe couldn’t remember what gave her the idea for the party. The image of a general get-together with Lucifer’s most tolerable siblings and the humans “in the know” had been knocking around her head for a while, but she hadn’t given it much serious thought. It was only after she considered what many of her friends were going through that she realized how many people could benefit from a low-pressure, interspecies social event.

“Absolutely not,” said Lucifer, taking a plate from her and starting to dry it. They had just finished a weeknight dinner, and Trixie was in the living room picking a movie for the night.

“Look, I know you don’t have a great relationship with your family—”

“Really, what gave you that idea?” Lucifer interrupted acerbically.

“—but,” Chloe cut him off, “I think it could be good for a couple people. Dan, for one.”

“You want to invite the Douche to a gathering that will be mostly comprised of my siblings?” Lucifer asked, an eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “Might I remind you that Daniel has avoided being in the same room with me for more than three consecutive seconds since he saw my face? Upon learning of my true nature, his first instinct was to shoot me, and—” he raised his voice when Chloe opened her mouth to reply, “—and I, out of all my siblings, am the best at interfacing with humanity, with Amenadiel being a very distant second.”

The idea of Lucifer being the model for appropriate behavior amongst humans was laughable, but Chloe bit her lip; as much as she was loathe to admit it, he was likely right. Of the three angels (fallen or otherwise) she had come to know, Lucifer was actually the most in touch with humanity. His ignorance of human emotions, his flamboyance, excess, and general Luciferness notwithstanding, he was far easier to deal with than Michael who, since their father had come down to Earth to give his children an earful, seemed to be making a genuine effort at being a decent brother but was still stand-offish, grumpy, and far too holier-than-thou (hah!) to pass for a normal human. Amenadiel… well, Amenadiel stood out less, but even now, after having formed his little family with Linda, he would occasionally say something so weird that Chloe was reminded quite forcefully that she and he were not the same species.

“Actually, Amenadiel is one of the other people this could help,” Chloe said, beginning to vigorously scrub a casserole dish. “Apparently Dan has been ignoring his texts since he found out about everything, and Amenadiel’s feeling pretty down about the whole thing.”

Lucifer opened and closed his mouth several times before seizing on the least significant fact he had learned from that sentence.

“Since when are you and Amenadiel in correspondence?”

“We text, sometimes,” said Chloe.

“What on Earth about?” Lucifer had stopped in the middle of drying a wineglass.

“He sends me pictures of Charlie.”

Chloe hoped that the mention of Lucifer’s nephew would be enough to put him off the topic. If he asked her what else was in her text history with Amenadiel, she would have to admit that the bulk of it was Real Housewives memes. Amenadiel would never forgive her if Lucifer found out.

“So, in order to make Dan more comfortable with being around an angel he has a pre-existing friendship with,” Lucifer restated, resuming his ministrations to the wineglass, “your plan is to coerce him into attending a social event with a plethora of strange angels. Darling, did you perhaps have a glass of wine too many?”

That earned him a glare.

“Well, so far the strategy of letting him adjust on his own hasn’t exactly been working. It’s been what, two months? And he still goes pale whenever I mention you. Sometimes it’s better to just plunge someone in at the deep end. If he has to deal with the insanity that is your family, he’ll remember how nice and normal his friendship with Amenadiel is. Besides, I think seeing your family at a social event would help him realize that while your family is, uh,” she hunted for a suitable adjective, “unique, it's still just a family.”

“And how well did being plunged into the metaphorical deep end work for you?” asked Lucifer, carefully avoiding her eyes.

Chloe winced.

“Well, while I definitely didn’t learn the truth in the ideal way, and I made some poor choices immediately afterwards…” she trailed off for a minute. They had discussed this many times over. Chloe had explained the feelings of helplessness that led to her almost making the biggest mistake of her life when Father Kinley took advantage of her existential crisis, and Lucifer had accepted her apology and given her his complete forgiveness, but the memories still evoked intense feelings of shame.

“But by the time I was meeting Eve, the situation barely felt weird at all. It was like I was inoculated against celestial insanity,” she finished.

“Eve is human, darling, albeit a singular one. You’re talking about subjecting Daniel to multiple members of the heavenly host.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” Chloe trailed off again, debating whether to let Lucifer in on her little secret. “I saw you and Michael in the penthouse last week,” she finally blurted.

Lucifer’s face was marred by a look of confusion.

“I think you were both drinking. And looking at paintings in some of your books,” Chloe clarified.

Lucifer’s face cleared.

“Oh, you saw that? You’re quite the sneaky little detective, aren’t you?” Lucifer said with an expression of approval.

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Lucifer and Michael had, in an attempt to begin repairing a relationship that both had long since considered beyond saving, begun spending time together in small increments. Usually these sessions were held when Chloe (who was still upset by the whole kidnapping thing) was not around, and they tended to be brief. The twins had come to an unspoken agreement to end any encounter if it started to deteriorate towards violence. If Lucifer lost his temper, Michael would sigh, hold his hands up in a show of surrender, and leave. If Michael made a remark that was too cutting, clearly with the sole purpose of hurting his twin, Lucifer would bite down his retort, down whatever drink he had in hand in one gulp, and leave the room. They had succeeded in not coming to blows nearly every time. Linda said it was a step in the right direction, although she also suggested that they would eventually need to work through the issues that were causing the friction to begin with. Lucifer hoped that if they ever decided to take that step, the Earth would come out unscathed.

Last week had been… surprisingly nice. Michael had dropped in unannounced after the detective had gone to bed. Lucifer looked up from the book he was enjoying to see his twin.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Michael had said with a feigned air of nonchalance.

Lucifer waved a hand in an all-encompassing gesture that invited Michael to make use of his bar and the other amenities of the penthouse. Michael had started moving towards the decanters when he was pulled up short by a sound from the bedroom and turned to Lucifer in alarm.

“She snores,” Lucifer said, his tone and the glint in his eye challenging Michael to say anything.

“And you sleep through it?”

“Like a baby. Now, dear brother, if all you’re here to do is critique my relationship, perhaps we should call it a night.”

Michael raised a shoulder in way that vaguely conveyed an apology, and Lucifer turned back to his book after one last chastising look at his brother. He was able to re-engross himself in the story without feeling the need to keep one eye on his twin—a feat that would have been unthinkable a few months prior.

Michael, meanwhile, had poured himself a vodka then begun to peruse his brother’s library.

They sat in nearly companionable silence, broken only by the sounds of Chloe’s slumber, for almost twenty minutes before Michael broke the silence. With a giggle.

Lucifer stared. His twin had found a large, coffee-table style book, and was so engrossed by it that he was completely unaware he had made a sound. He flipped to another page, and this time let loose an undignified snort of repressed laughter.

“What in Dad’s name are you looking at?” demanded Lucifer.

Michael jumped a little, having been lost in his own thoughts. Then, with a look dangerously closed to bashfulness, he raised the book so Lucifer could see the cover. It was a large book of religious art. Lucifer had purchased it because it had several great photographs of Guillaume Geefs’ La genie du mal which (bat wings notwithstanding) was one of his favorite depictions of himself as imagined by a human.

“Oh yes, there are some wonderful renditions of our family in there. Is it the one where it looks like Gabriel is in a very compromising position with a sheep?” asked Lucifer.

“No, but now I need see that one. What page?”

“Nuh-uh, show me what you’re looking at first, then I’ll show you our sister, rendered as a man who loves animals,” said Lucifer. He felt his heart sink a little when he saw Michael’s expression.

“It’s one of me, isn’t it?” he groaned.

Michael, still biting his lip to stifle a laugh, approached and wordlessly handed over the book. Lucifer, bracing for an image of himself as a dragon or a snake or—Dad forbid—a satyr, was surprised to see an obscure, early Renaissance oil painting of him tempting Christ in the desert.

“What’s so funny about this one? I mean, the way that events were twisted for purposes of propaganda was sinful, and I can’t say that the artist was particularly talented, but the depictions are… adequate.”

“Look at your face,” Michael said, now barely containing his glee.

“It looks nothing like me, but that’s hardly a surprise,” said Lucifer, still trying to find the joke.

“The eyes!” said Michael, erupting into a veritable fit of giggles. It was a sound Lucifer hadn’t heard since long, long before his Fall.

Lucifer leaned closer to the page, perplexed. He’d been focused on the general features of the artistic rendition of him, and the eyes were quite small. However, now that he took a better look, he found that the artist’s simple brushstrokes, while clearly depicting eyes, were ever-so-slightly out of alignment.

“He made me cross-eyed!” Lucifer started his protestation quite loud, before lowering his voice to keep from waking up Chloe. “I look like I’m trying to stare at the bridge of my nose!”

This did nothing to dampen Michael’s mirth. Lucifer was annoyed at Michael, at the artist, and at his Father (as always), and yet he felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

“Well let’s see how you like how humans draw you!” He flipped immediately to a fabulous rendering of St. Michael the archangel. “You never told me that you’d joined a hair metal band!”

Far from being insulted, the image of Michael topped with an overabundance of gold curls was what finally made the angel break into genuine laughter.

“Shh! You’ll wake the Detective up!” But Lucifer was grinning as well at this point.

Sometime later, Chloe woke to the sound of hushed voices. She silently left the bed and peeked around the archway to the living room. The sight that met her eyes was something she wouldn’t have expected to see in a million years. The twins were both sitting on the ground next to the coffee table, and they were surrounded with a dozen books opened to large pictures. In that moment they were huddled together over one with near-identical grins.

“…and I mean, Adam certainly wasn’t well-endowed, but he could sue for slander!” Lucifer was saying.

“Libel,” corrected Michael, but it seemed to be a reflexive action, devoid of any heat. “Ooh, what about Raphael?”

“Oh there’s an amazing one where the painter went overboard with his cheeks, and he looks like a chipmunk gathering nuts!” Lucifer pulled one of the other books towards him and began flipping through it.

Chloe didn’t watch for long; it felt too intrusive. But she took a moment to take in the sight of two brothers enjoying each other’s company as they had not since long before humanity’s predecessors had crawled out of the oceans. It was sweet, and Lucifer deserved all the happiness the moment brought.

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Lucifer smiled absently, the dishes forgotten as he savored the first truly happy memory he had made with his twin in eons.

“You deserve to feel like that more often,” said Chloe, “with every sibling you have.”

“Those days are long gone, Detective,” said Lucifer, his expression turning sad. “Most of my siblings can’t stand me. Or they’re afraid of me.”

“Michael wasn't exactly a fan of yours either, a few months ago. You won’t know what sort of relationships you can have with your family if you don’t open yourself to the possibilities.” Chloe sighed. “Obviously it’s your choice, and I would never force you to do something you really don’t want to, but… I think you should try.”

Chloe could see Lucifer teetering on the fence, the hunger for the acceptance he had experienced with Michael battling with the weight of millions of years of rejection. Chloe played her trump card.

“I think Ella would like it if we invited her, too.”

Ella was the most recent inductee to the humans-in-the-know club. Her introduction had been under far better circumstances than Chloe’s had been, but both Chloe and Lucifer were still on the receiving end of a lot of anger from the tiny lab tech.

A few weeks previously, a trip to speak with a suspect had gone sideways, with Chloe getting pinned down by gunfire. Lucifer had been forced to fly in to get her out, and Ella, already puzzled by the duo’s seemingly impossible feat of moving near-instantaneously from deep inside a warehouse to out on the street, had found a white feather at the scene and had confronted Lucifer and Chloe. Chloe had been too slow to come up with an adequate explanation, and the next several minutes were filled with a lot of cursing in Spanish and a brief stretch during which Ella beat the Devil with her shoe.

Since then, the lab tech hadn’t interacted with Lucifer or Chloe beyond what was required for her job. Chloe had tried to talk to her, but Ella made it very clear that by not telling her the truth when she had lost her faith and begun to spiral, Chloe had failed her as a friend. Chloe suspected that her reaction was exacerbated by her recent near-death experience at the hands of a boyfriend that turned out to be a serial killer. Ella had already been looking far too exhausted, twitchy, and malnourished, and now she was on the outs with a large part of her support network. Chloe knew that they needed to reconnect with Ella, and fast.  And what better way to do that than with a big show of faith? For example, with an invite to a celestial family hang-out?

“You think Miss Lopez would enjoy attending such a function?” asked Lucifer.

“Uh, yeah. I think the Catholic scientist would love the chance to get the inside scoop on the nature and structure of the universe,” said Chloe.

She watched as the last of Lucifer’s reluctance melted out of his face and was replaced with trepidation and a tinge of hope.

“Fine. For Miss Lopez. Of course, I have a few conditions…”

Chapter Text

In the end, Lucifer’s conditions were all pretty straightforward, much to Chloe’s relief. Firstly, he wanted final say on the guest list. At first, Chloe struggled to get him to name any siblings outside of Amenadiel, Michael, and Azrael.

“I’ve told you how insufferable they are, Detective. What did you expect?”

Chloe rolled her eyes and texted Amenadiel for suggestions. Amenadiel, apparently quite enthusiastic about the idea of the party, appeared at the door to the apartment in a flutter of wings a few minutes later. Chloe began to make a list of activity ideas and supplies for the party, while intermittently tuning in to the brothers’ squabbling.

“Zadkiel? Really? He hates me!”

“He doesn’t hate you, Luci, he’s just a bit… rigid. I think you two would actually get along with each other after he’s had a couple bottles to drink.”

Chloe added ‘Alcohol--???’ to her supply list. She didn’t want this to become an angelic rager, but if the angels wanted to reach a pleasant buzz for a bit of social lubrication, they’d need a substantial amount of booze. Chloe pondered the merits of buying alcohol from Costco, before deciding that the whole matter was definitely a Lucifer problem.

In the end, Lucifer agreed, with varying degrees of reluctance, to invite ten of his siblings. The angelic guests would include the twins and Amenadiel, Azrael, Gabriel, Raphael, Zadkiel, Saraqael, Jophiel, and Castiel, as long as he promised not to sing. After much wheedling on Amenadiel’s part, and much protestation from Lucifer, Remiel was added to the list.

“She tried to kidnap your son!”

“That was over a year ago Luci! We’re past that.”

The human invitees would be Chloe herself, Linda and Charlie, Ella, Dan, and after some discussion, Trixie.

“Lucifer, how are we going to explain to her the fact that most of the guests are angels?” Chloe had demanded.

Lucifer’s face changed to his adorably wide-eyed look of confusion.

“What exactly needs to be said other than that?”

“I don’t want my eleven-year-old having an existential crisis at the sight of the first pair of wings,” Chloe said, after taking a centering breath to shore up her patience.

“But surely she knows the truth about my nature and, consequently, that of my siblings. After all, I’ve been telling the truth for years, and I doubt Mazikeen has held anything back.”

Chloe ran a hand over her face in annoyance, then stopped. Trixie had been exposed to Lucifer’s devil-schtick-that-isn’t-actually-a-schtick from a very young age. She hadn’t yet fully given up on the idea of Santa Claus at the time Lucifer came into their lives.

Chloe dropped her hand, then stared into space for a few seconds, chewing her lip. Could Trixie already know? Had she ever been given a reason not to believe Lucifer? Surely the easiest thing to do would just be to ask, right?

“Trixie!” she called, “Can you come here for a minute, Monkey?”

Trixie’s braided head popped out of her bedroom door a few moments later.

“Hey mom, what’s up? Have Lucifer and Amenadiel stopped arguing?”

“Doubtful,” said Lucifer, at the same time that Amenadiel replied:

“No.”

Chloe took a deep breath.

“Well Monkey, we were thinking of having a party with some of Lucifer and Amenadiel’s brothers and sisters. How would you feel about joining?”

Trixie broke into a grin.

“I could hang out with a bunch of angels? Awesome! I mean, Maze said that they’re a bunch of good-for-nothing cloudsitters who couldn’t pour water out of a shoe if the instructions were written on the bottom—uh, no offense,” she broke off, eyeing Amenadiel, whose open mouth complemented the offended crease in his brow, and Lucifer, who was grinning delightedly, “but it still sounds cool. Will God be there?”

“Uh, no, Monkey,” Chloe said over Lucifer’s indignant snort, “just some of the angels.”

“Yeah, I’d love to! Thanks mom!” she zipped in for a lightning-quick hug before disappearing back into her room (an occurrence that was becoming far more frequent as teenagedom loomed).

“Well, I suppose that answers that,” said Lucifer.

“I guess so.” Chloe was staring at her daughter’s bedroom door, wondering how on Earth her daughter had been taking the existence of the divine in stride for years now, and Chloe hadn’t even noticed. She shook herself and turned back to the matter at hand. “Uh, Maze?”

“Wouldn’t touch this party with a fifty-foot pole, I’m afraid,” Lucifer shrugged. “And my siblings wouldn’t be particularly amenable to her presence either.”

“Okay, so that’s the guest list settled, then.”

Lucifer’s second condition for hosting the party was that they choose a large enough venue that he could get away from his family if need be. He quickly allayed Chloe’s fears that he was planning on avoiding them for the entire duration.

“Believe me, an overabundance of space is something that all my siblings would appreciate. Except maybe Gabriel,” he added as an afterthought. “A whole passel of my siblings crowded into a small space is a recipe for misery for all involved.”

“Okay then, Lux?” Chloe suggested.

“No, they’ll want some place to stretch their wings. The Hollywood Hills house has a decent yard. It might do,” said Lucifer.

“Luci, we can’t have a bunch of our siblings flying around in broad daylight in Hollywood! What will the humans think?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh at his older brother’s fretting.

“Do you have a better suggestion, then?”

In the end, Chloe asked Lucifer for info on all his properties in southern California, and before she knew it she had an intimidatingly large stack of files in her hands. Every page had dollar amounts with far too many zeroes on them. She tried to ignore the numbers (and the fact that her boyfriend was probably one of the richest people on the planet) and focus on the photos. Only three files in, she found exactly what they needed.

“Oh, the cabin! I forgot about that place!” Lucifer crowed.

“Cabin? Lucifer, it has two kitchens.”

“It’s in the woods on a mountain, Detective. It’s a cabin,” Lucifer said with a sniff, as if personally affronted by her suggestion that the 7,000 square foot lake house was anything other than quaint and rustic. “There are mosquitos.”

“Why do you even own it, then?” Chloe asked, flipping through shots of the house’s idyllic surrounding landscape and sumptuous interior.

“Oh, it’s wonderful for orgies with a triple-digit number of attendees,” Lucifer said with an almost wistful look on his face, “In fact, I remember one time where I had everyone bring raincoats, and we—”

“Okay, I get the picture,” said Chloe sharply. “It’s been… cleaned, right?”

Lucifer’s look was one of indignation.

“Not thoroughly sanitize after an orgy? Who do you take me for, Detective?”

Chloe rewarded him with one of her patented eyerolls.

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Things began to move shockingly fast after they chose a date: a three-day weekend the next month. The human guests could make the three-hour drive up on Friday morning and spend the rest of the day settling into the house. The angels were invited to come down Saturday morning. The “cabin” had an adjacent boathouse with a small motor boat, a few canoes, and—of all things—a paddle boat. There was a patio by the back deck with a grill, a huge open living room should the weather take a turn for the worse (“Won’t be a problem, Detective. Batriel owes me a favor and can make any storm that threatens to ruin our plans piss off.”), and a dock for swimming.

Chloe found herself alternating between brief moments of panic when she remembered she was planning a party for the beings that helped God create the universe (They designed the constellations, surely they won’t want to play cornhole, right?), moments of mundanity common to party planning everywhere (Do we need to bring ice?), and moments of surreality that had become routine for her over the past year (“Detective, we’ll need to buy bathing suits for my siblings. We invented swimming long before nudity was associated with shame.”). Strangely, she found herself enjoying the odd fusion of human ritual with the celestial weirdness that had long since taken root in her life. Even more surprisingly, Lucifer had gone from reluctant host to an enthusiastic member of the ad hoc planning committee.

“E-vites? E-vites, detective!” he exclaimed one afternoon at the precinct. They had decided to put aside the case for a moment after a frustrating morning of zero progress. “The only people who send invitations via the internet are millennials who wouldn’t know good etiquette if it slapped them in the face, and Gabriel, whose emails have long since been directed to the spam folder where they belong. If we’re going to do this, we’ll do it properly.”

Chloe knew that they would get hopelessly sidetracked if she asked about angelic emails, so she tamped down her burning curiosity in favor of practicality.

“Lucifer, we’re only a few weeks out. We need to let people know so they can plan accordingly. And Dan and Ella are probably going to take some persuading.”

“All the more reason to put some thought into the invitations then,” replied Lucifer. “Now tell me, Detective, what is your favorite font? I know sans-serifs are in vogue right now, but I feel that one really can’t go wrong with Garamond—”

Chloe sighed, copied her half-drafted email onto a word document with the crucial information about the party, and printed it out.

“Okay, here,” she said, shoving the page at her erstwhile consultant, who cut off in the middle of a discussion of the pros and cons of certain paper types when embossing is involved. “Do whatever you want, but do it fast. Three days, tops.”

Lucifer bounced out of his seat with a grin and exclamation of “I have some calls to make!”.

Chloe turned back to the file for her stubborn case, but her mind kept wandering back to what she had said about Dan and Ella.

She was just now realizing that she had no idea how to persuade them to join. Dan was still clearly very uncomfortable with Lucifer, and Ella wasn’t talking much with either of them. Chloe did think there had been a shift in the lab tech’s mood, with the edge starting to come off her anger, but it seemed to have been replaced by sadness, which was somehow worse. What would Chloe do if they both refused to join? That was more of a possibility than she wanted to admit. An even worse thought struck her. What if they did agree to go, because Chloe said it would help them, then the exact opposite happened? What if she damaged their relationships irreparably?

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Chloe was in better spirits by the end of the day, when she took the elevator up to the penthouse. An off-the-wall comment by Lucifer had once again sparked an idea for Chloe that led them to rethink a comment made by one of their suspects. She had put a BOLO out, and their perpetrator was likely to be in custody by morning.

The elevator doors opened, and she took a moment to admire Lucifer at his piano, clearly lost in the music. He was wearing a wine-red shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the light glanced off his ring as his fingers rippled across the keys.

Her attempt to approach him without interrupting was in vain; as soon as she stepped onto the marble of his floor, the music broke off and Lucifer turned and broke into a smile that made his entire face light up.

“Detective!” he exclaimed, jumping up from the bench, “Look at what was just delivered!”

He grabbed a stack of white rectangles off the lid of the piano and held them out proudly.

“I decided to forgo the embossing in the interest of expediency,” he said gravely, as if she should be moved by his willingness to make such a sacrifice. “But Martin’s work is so lovely that they hardly need it.”

“Wow, Lucifer, these are gorgeous!” Chloe said, holding one of the cards up to inspect it in better light. “You were able to get these done in a single afternoon?”

“Perks of being the devil, darling,” he replied with a rogueish wink that made her blush.

She focused on the text of the invitation before he could comment on the pink tint to her cheeks.

You are cordially invited to a weekend at a cozy mountain getaway, courtesy of

~Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker~

Where: 10035 Juniper Bend, Rural Rte 3, Tehachapi, CA 93561

(40 miles inland from the western coast of North America in the Tehachapi Mountains, house on the north shore of a medium-sized lake, green slate roof)

When: We invite human guests and their non-human partners to join us on Friday the 1st to settle in at the cabin.

Those joining from the Silver City are welcome to arrive on Saturday morning and stay for the day or overnight as you desire.

What to bring:
Humans—sunscreen, bathing suit, hiking boots, a potluck dish (optional)

Angels—NONE OF THE FOLLOWING:

❖ Weapons or objects with an area-of-affect influence on mortal beings

❖ Books, scrolls, or documents containing divine, arcane, or Forbidden knowledge

❖ Any object which is known to damage, weaken, or destroy the fabric of the physical plane

❖ Harps

If you are in need of any further information, don’t hesitate to contact Amenadiel by text or prayer.

“No harps?” Chloe asked, looking up to find Lucifer nervously awaiting her verdict. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d dislike any musical instrument.”

“I have nothing against the harp. It’s a lovely, beautiful instrument. So is the recorder.”

Chloe’s eyes almost rolled back into her head.

“I’m sure it is in the hands of a professional. But don’t you remember when Trixie was learning it for music class at her school? The sounds that she managed to get out of that thing—” Chloe broke off. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” said Lucifer as realization dawned on Chloe’s face. “Every one of my siblings learned the harp. Every. Single. One. I can still hear the plinkety-plonking.”

He shuddered.

“Okay then. No harps,” Chloe said. “And we can get most of these delivered tomorrow. Amenadiel or Michael will have to deliver the rest.”

“What am I delivering?” said a sudden, slightly nasal voice behind them. Chloe and Lucifer both jumped, having completely missed the chime announcing the elevator’s arrival. A slight smirk played around Michael’s lips as Lucifer tried to hide his surprise under an aloof expression.

“Invitations,” said Lucifer curtly, digging through a stack of envelopes, each bearing a name in elaborate calligraphy that Chloe suspected had been done painstakingly by hand, courtesy of whoever Martin was. “Aha!” he exclaimed when he found the one labeled Michael and slipped an invitation inside.

Michael held out his hand, but Lucifer theatrically licked and sealed the envelope, leaving his twin waiting, hand outstretched.

When the invitation was handed over, Michael held it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger, as if he were afraid his twin’s saliva carried the plague.

“Really, Sam?”

“I wouldn’t want to cause any offense by delivering a shoddily sealed envelope, brother,” said Lucifer, clearly enjoying how gingerly Michael was holding the invitation. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Michael’s expression made it clear that the last thing he wanted to do was touch an object that Lucifer had just run his tongue over.

Suddenly, his grimace morphed into a devious smirk, and he glanced at Lucifer before focusing completely on the letter. Before their eyes, a narrow strip of the top of the envelope dissolved into thin air, the paper disintegrating into flakes which became dust, which dissipated, all in less than a second.

Whatever he had just done had apparently scored a point versus Lucifer, who was looking on in consternation.

“Did you just use the power of the demiurge… to avoid touching my spit?”

Michael said nothing but raised his eyebrows at his twin, as he took out the invitation and read it.

“The demiurge?” Chloe asked Lucifer quietly.

“Oh, the powers of creation and destruction that we used to make most of the universe,” he explained. “Also useful if you’re a germaphobe, apparently.”

Michael didn’t seem to hear this last comment, being far to amused by the contents of the invitation.

“A weekend at a lake house? Our family just standing around grilling hamburgers and…” he floundered for a moment, clearly unsure of what a normal weekend family get-together entailed, “…playing pinochle? We aren’t the Brady Bunch, Sam.”

“Come on, Michael,” Chloe jumped in. “Surely there are a couple siblings you want to catch up with?”

Michael turned to her with a withering stare.

“I’ve spent nearly fourteen billion years with those idiots. I think I’ll survive a little longer without ‘catching up’. As hilarious as it would be to watch Raphael trying to interact with humans—” he broke off, then a grin slowly started to spread across his face. “Now that I think about it, this whole idea sounds like a complete disaster. I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Where are the rest of the invitations?”

Chloe felt her nervous pinpricks of doubt ballooning in response to Michael’s glee. She did her best to keep her nerves tamped down as Lucifer stuffed and sealed the envelopes that would go to his other siblings.  Then Michael stepped out to the balcony, manifested his wings, and disappeared with a cry of “Put me down for a lasagna for the potluck!”

Chloe immediately turned to Lucifer, who was taking several swigs of whiskey to rid his mouth of the taste of the envelope glue.

“What if he’s right, and this is a total disaster? I mean, all your siblings are fourteen billion years old, and I invited them to a cookout! What was I thinking? I’m a total idiot!” her voice climbed higher with panic.

“That’s not true, darling. Azrael’s barely eleven billion,” Lucifer said.

He immediately realized that levity had been the wrong choice and reached out to Chloe, taking her hands in his own.

“Detective— Chloe.”

Chloe felt grounded by his use of her name, and she sought further reassurance in the dark pools of his eyes.

“You are not an idiot, and this is a good idea, as much as I failed to realize it at the beginning. Yes, my siblings are ancient celestial beings, but they are also have far more in common with humans than they would ever admit. Take Amenadiel, for instance.” He had begun rubbing circles on the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “He was given domain over time itself and has an innate understanding of the fabric of the universe that would make any physicist jealous.”

Was this supposed to be helping? Chloe hoped not.

“He also asks Linda for help any time he finds a spider in the house.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, the Fist of God, the firstborn son of the Almighty ‘doesn’t like the way their legs move’, I believe is what he said. He has a frankly worrying number of photos of that offspring of his on his phone, even though most of them look exactly the same. His dream car is a Pontiac Aztek, and I once saw him fly into a bridge.”

Chloe's heart had stopped racing, and the corners of her mouth were twitching upwards. Lucifer dropped her hands and returned to his drink before continuing.

“Michael has the power to create and destroy matter, is the Defender of Heaven, and the Great Judge of souls. He also had an awful mustard-yellow sweater with a hole in the front that he refused to get rid of. I liberated it from his closet and had Patrick donate it to a thrift store. Do you know what that bastard did?”

Chloe was now pursing her lips together in amusement.

“He went to the store and bought it back! Then he had the gall to demand that I reimburse him the seven dollars it cost to repurchase it!”

“Did you give him the money?” Chloe asked, her voice slightly choked by mirth.

“I did. Then that night I stole the sweater again and had it burned. Well, melted. Horrible, polyester monstrosity.”

His grimace finally pushed Chloe past her limits, and she erupted into a fit of giggles, with a rather embarrassing snort thrown in. When she looked back up, Lucifer was gazing at her with a look of such warmth that she felt an answering tingling sensation spread outwards from her sternum. She stepped close to him, wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her cheek against his chest. He smelled of whiskey and sunlight.

Lucifer set his tumbler on the lid of the piano and embraced her in turn. He buried his nose in her hair and sighed contentedly.

They stayed in that position for a long, long while that was far too short before breaking apart.

Lucifer caught her gaze once again.

“The idea of my siblings can be intimidating, I’m sure. But the reality is far less majestic and nothing you should be afraid of.”

Chloe smiled at him and felt the final knot in her chest untwist. He was right, of course. After all, wasn’t the same true for him? Lucifer was powerful, volatile, and imposing. He was also immature, flighty, and had the attention span of a goldfish. She, Chloe Decker, had tamed the devil. She was more than a match for a flock of angels.

Or so she hoped.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Chloe stood outside of Ella’s lab, gathering the courage to go in. The beautifully addressed invitation was in her left hand, and she had to consciously relax her muscles in order not to crumple it.

Quit being such a wimp! she scolded herself. It’s just Ella.

She finally approached the door on stiff legs and turned the handle. She’d be lying if she said there weren’t a small part of her that hoped the lab would be empty and she’d have an excuse to put this off for a little longer.

But Ella was in the lab at her desk, in the middle of filling out some forms. At least, that’s what she had probably been doing, given the pen that hovered in the air above the papers. Ella’s eyes were directed forwards, unfocused. She gave no sign of having heard the door open.

“Ella?” Chloe called.

The lab tech squeaked and jumped a little, before turning to face her visitor.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you!” Chloe apologized hurriedly.

“That’s fine, Chl—Decker.”

Chloe ignored the sting she felt at Ella’s stiff formality.

“I haven’t gotten the DNA results from the Robertson case back yet.”

“That’s not why I’m here, Ella,” Chloe sighed. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah sure,” Ella said, pulling up a chair for Chloe.

“Actually, this might be a bit of a long talk. Maybe we could go for a coffee?”

“I’d rather just stay here, thanks.”

Chloe’s shock at this blunt dismissal must have shown on her face, because Ella’s posture softened, and she looked down at the floor.

“It’s not you, Chloe. It’s… well, I just feel safe here.” The last sentence was barely a whisper and Chloe’s heart almost broke. Her friend was in a very delicate state. She was dealing with some serious trauma on top of everything else, and Chloe felt incredibly selfish for thinking Ella’s behavior was all about her.

“Of course, Ella, whatever is best for you,” Chloe said. She saw a cup of coffee on the lab tech’s desk. “Maybe I’ll grab my own mug, though.”

Chloe left the lab, giving Ella a couple minutes to settle before she came back with a mug of the precinct’s best sludge. When she reentered the lab, she was glad to see that Ella looked marginally more relaxed. She had turned her chair so that she could put her feet up on a nearby box, and she was sipping on her coffee.

“Okay, what’s up Decker?” the lab tech asked, as Chloe got comfortable.

“Well,” Chloe started, already having forgotten the short speech she’d rehearsed in the shower that morning. “I know that you’re upset about how Lucifer and I kept the truth about… what he is… from you. And that is absolutely understandable. We messed up, and we’ve both told you how sorry we are, but at the end of the day, that doesn’t just automatically make everything better.”

She braved meeting Ella’s eyes and was encouraged to see an open expression on her friend’s face.

“I also know that we haven’t been a great support system for you lately—“

Ella cut her off with a dismissive handwave and “Psh, I’m fine. You guys don’t need to worry about me.” Chloe hated how forced her friend's nonchalance was.

“-either way, we wanted to show you how much you mean to both of us, and how much we want you in our lives. We also thought it would be nice for y— everyone to get away from everything for a couple days.” With this, Chloe handed the invitation to Ella.

“Ooh, fancy!” she exclaimed, admiring the calligraphy on the front. She tore open the envelope and shook the invitation into her hand. As she read it, her eyebrows climbed steadily higher on her forehead. By the time she turned back to Chloe, they were trying to hide behind her hairline.

“A party at a lake house with a bunch of Lucifer’s family?”

“I mean, if you’d rather not, we totally get it—” Chloe began, bracing for the worst.

“Of course I want to come!” Ella exclaimed, and Chloe was relieved to see a more of her old friend in the beaming face across from her.

“Who else is coming? And which angels? I mean, I learned a fair bit about them in Catholic school so I won't be completely in the dark, but I’ll need time to look the others up. What should I bring for the potluck? Do they have food in heaven? If so, that is one heck of a standard to try to live up to. Actually—” she broke off, a look of settled confidence taking over her features. “Abuelita’s tamales. Those are divine.”

Chloe couldn’t help but smile, and Ella returned the look.

“Thanks for this. It really—” Ella cut herself off, then tried again. “I mean, I think I really needed something like this. And no, I’m not totally over the whole ‘hiding proof of the existence of the divine’ thing yet, but I will be soon. I know how much you and Luce care about me, and it—” she bit down on her lip, and tears welled at the corners of her eyes.

Before she could think twice, Chloe took a leaf out of Ella’s book and pulled the diminutive lab technician into a hug.

“—it means the world to me,” Ella sniffled into Chloe’s shoulder, returning the hug with one of her own.

“Aw Ella, you know you can always come to us with anything, right?”

Ella finally stepped back and wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

“I know, Chloe. Now, I probably should be getting back to work. I’m definitely going to have a million questions in the runup to this thing, though.”

“Of course,” Chloe replied with a laugh. “I’m thinking I should start a ‘humans-only’ text chain, because I bet you’re not the only one.” She made her way to the door. “Now, I need to go invite my ex-husband to Satan’s lake house. Wish me luck!”

“Good luck!” cheered Ella, and Chloe was happy to see that she was already looking better than she had in quite some time.

-----------

Chloe found Dan pouring over some papers—what looked to be credit card statements—for a case.

“You got a couple minutes?” she asked.

“Sure Chlo, what’s up?” he said, dropping the card statements onto a pile of manila folders and turning to face his ex-wife.

Chloe dropped into the empty chair next to his desk.

“So, I know you’ve been struggling a bit with… with what you learned about Lucifer.” Chloe’s point was immediately proven when Dan blanched. “And I totally get that, I really do. Everything you thought you knew got upended, and you didn’t exactly get the best possible introduction to the truth. Then the whole thing with Michael happened.” Chloe realized that she was rambling. “The point is, it makes sense that this would knock you for a loop, but you haven’t seemed to make much progress lately. You’re terrified of Lucifer, and—”

“It’s not Lucifer I’m terrified of,” Dan interrupted. At Chloe’s incredulous expression, he sighed, then took a deep breath, looking as if he were going to make a confession. “I mean, okay, I’m a little scared of him. And that face, Chlo! But I also know that he has saved your life many times over, and he would never hurt you or Trixie, or even me. I think. But it’s the idea of him that I can’t wrap my head around. I mean, his dad is God! Our coworker’s dad is God.”

Chloe kept her face carefully neutral. Dan didn’t need to know that said God had dropped down to scold and visit his sons a few months previously, appearing less than twenty feet from where they were now sitting.

“I’m really trying, but if I let myself think about it too much, I feel like I’m about to drown,” he finished.

“I remember what that felt like,” Chloe mused. Memories of a panicked flight abroad and the smell of dusty books in the Vatican Archives flashed through her mind. Then she remembered how weirdly normal it felt, after she returned and had Lucifer by her side once again. “And avoiding the whole situation really didn’t help. If I spent a lot of time with my own thoughts, I would just begin to spiral.” Dan was nodding, his eyed widened with a look of recognition in them; clearly, he was no stranger to what she was describing. “That’s why I was thinking it might be best to try something like exposure therapy,” Chloe continued. The idea for this explanation had come to her in the shower that morning. “I didn’t really start to feel like my old self again until I had to tell off Lucifer—the Devil—for trying to take truffles out of a victim’s fridge because he ‘didn’t want them to go to waste’.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “Then Trixie’s teacher sent her home with a note about how she had used the word ‘enucleation’ in an essay, and I had to have a talk with Maze—my demon friend—about appropriate topics of conversation for tweens.”

“E-nucli-what?”

“Removing someone’s eyeball.”

“Oh. Yeah, Maze does actually make a lot more sense to me now. So what are you suggesting, I invite the Devil and a demon out for drinks?”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.” Chloe extended the invitation to Dan. “Lucifer has a lake house in the mountains. We were thinking of going up for a weekend with Trixie, Linda, Amenadiel and Charlie. Even Ella’s going to be there. You’ll be in a relaxing, low-pressure situation, and the house is ginormous, so if Lucifer starts to drive you up the wall, it’ll be easy to avoid him.”

Dan was looking at the envelope thoughtfully. He hadn’t flinched the last several times Chloe had mentioned her partner by name.

“That actually sounds like a decent idea,” he mused. “I can hang out with Amenadiel, but I won’t be the only… human around.”

“Exactly!” said Chloe encouragingly. This was turning out to be far easier than she had feared.

“I mean, I can definitely handle just two of them, even if one is Lucifer.”

“Uh, actually, about that…”

Dan’s face fell.

“Who else is going to be there, Chlo?”

Chloe gulped. Maybe she had counted her chickens a little too early.

-----------

“Both Dan and Ella are in!” Chloe called, stepping out of the penthouse elevator, each arm occupied with a bag of Thai takeout. “I had to go through a bit of back-and-forth with Dan, but in the end—” She paused, seeing that Lucifer was out on the balcony, engaged in what appeared to be a lively discussion with Michael. Lucifer had texted her earlier that Michael had returned with the news that all the invitees would be joining them, with the possible exception of Azrael, who wasn’t sure how much of a break in her duties she’d be able to take. The Angel of Death hoped to be able to join for a couple hours at least.

Chloe set the takeout bags on the bar top and went out to join the twins.

“Detective!” Lucifer cried, his eyes lighting up the moment he saw her. “How was your day? I’m sorry I wasn’t there to lend moral support for the paperwork, but as you can see, we were a little bit busy here.”

I can see, Chloe tried to say, but the words weren’t making it from her brain to her lips. Instead, she opened and closed her mouth several times, while her eyes roamed the balcony, trying to understand exactly what she was seeing.

Several tables had been moved onto the deck. One looked like a nice antique, but the others were more practical—there was even a folding card table. Each table held a motley collection of decanters that would have been right at home on the wall of the bar behind her. The contents of the decanters, however, were clearly not scotch. The liquids were a variety of colors, and several were either fizzing or bubbling. A decanter on the table next to Lucifer was filled with what appeared to be mud that was rapidly changing from black to lime green and back again. One small jar was emitting thick black smoke that smelled strongly of shrimp.

Chloe finally found her voice. “What on Earth are you two doing?”

Michael shuffled his feet in an embarrassed manner, but Lucifer launched into an enthusiastic explanation.

“Well, I started thinking about what sorts of libations I could provide for our little get-together at my pied à terre. I was only thinking of taste, naturally, since my siblings can’t get drunk unless I were to provide a logistically impossible volume of liquor. Even with you around, darling, the best I can manage is a hard-won and disappointingly short buzz. Then I realized that with Michael here, between the two of us, we should be able to make angel-strength alcohol!” He beamed.

“Ah,” said Chloe. She eyeballed the motley array of bottles around her. One had begun to emit a low whining sound. “And it’s going…?”

“Terribly.” Lucifer’s face fell. “All because someone here has forgotten how to make proper carbon.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “I keep telling you Sam, using a different isotope won’t help anything. The fact of the matter is that ethanol can’t do what we need it to do!”

“We can make it work,” Lucifer said. “I mean, humans make ethanol from corn, for Dad’s sake. It’s not exactly complicated stuff.”

Chloe, sensing an impending argument, cleared her throat. “I brought some Thai food. There’s more than enough for all three of us, so how about you two take a break, refuel, then try again afterwords.”

“A capital idea as always, Detective!” said Lucifer with a clap of his hands. “I’ll go fetch the place settings and we can eat.” The wind shifted slightly, sending the smoke that was still billowing from one of their failed attempts towards him. He wrinkled his nose. “Inside, I think.”

-----------

A few hours later, with the dinner things cleared away, Chloe sat at the desk in Lucifer’s library getting a few bureaucratic tasks for work squared away. She looked up every now and then to watch the twins bickering through the glass of the balcony doors. They were still arguing constantly, but Chloe had noticed a definite change over the last few weeks. The spats had lost their edge, and the back-and-forth had begun to resemble the dynamic that was shared by brothers all over the globe. She had to admit that she found it quite heartwarming.

Chloe took a few moments to wonder if this is what they were like before Lucifer’s Fall. She suspected that this was the case, less because of anything either had said and more because of Michael’s appearance. Over the past few weeks, the crookedness that had marked his shoulders had receded significantly, and the scar that had marred his face for months had begun to even out. It now made Michael seem roguish and devil-may-care (Chloe mentally added that idiom to the list of phrases she needed to take out of her vocabulary). Previously the scar had just looked painful.

By now she had seen plenty of evidence corroborating Amenadiel’s theory that angels self-actualize, so it seemed that Michael, either consciously or subconsciously, was feeling that something that had long been broken between him and his twin had begun to heal. She was quite sure Lucifer was feeling the same, though he would never admit it.

She returned to her paperwork with a smile.

The penthouse’s cozy atmosphere lulled her into a productive rhythm, and the next time she looked up, it was dark beyond the windows of the penthouse and more concerningly, she couldn’t hear the twins anymore.

Chloe had long ago learned that Lucifer was like a toddler in that his chatter was counterproductive, but extended silences were the true cause for worry. She shut her laptop and moved to the balcony, expecting to find Lucifer with his hand in a metaphorical cookie jar.

The tables of decanters had been abandoned, and she looked around only to find Lucifer and Michael in the hot tub. Moving closer, she realized that neither had a stitch of clothing on.

“Detec’ive, there you are! I was wundrin’ where you were. Care t’ join us?” Lucifer said, his words slightly slurred and his eyes glassy. Chloe searched the area and found—yep, a decanter next to the hot tub, halfway between the brothers.

“You figured it out?”

“Yep, we gottha shemical figgered out pretty quick after lunch—”

“Dinner,” interjected Michael, his head flopping backwards onto the edge of the hot tub. He seemed to be even worse for wear than Lucifer.

“—food. But then we tooka while to get the flavor nice. It’s not like whishkey at all, but it’s nice. Tastes like—” he held the bottle up and squinted at it. The liquid was amber colored, much like his usual single-malt, but it contained tiny bubbles as if carbonated. “—butterscosh,” he finally declared.

“’nd clouds,” Michael added, staring at the night sky with a blissed-out look on his face. “I geddit now, why humans do this,” he said. “It makes it so you don’ hafta worry about things. Like the fushure. Or Dad. Or love.” A worry line appeared in his forehead as he spoke.

“Aw, Mikey, don’ tell me you’ra weepy drinker.” Lucifer looked genuinely concerned.

“I generally find that talking about love is one of the signs that a night of drinking should start wrapping up,” Chloe advised. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear Michael’s thoughts on love.

The twins protested.

“C’mon, Detective. Issa hot tub. I know you like a hot tub.” Lucifer tried to give a seductive wink, but he was inebriated enough to have lost his suaveness, and the wink lasted so long it was more goofy than enticing.

“I think we should talkabout love more,” Michael declared. “Us angels, I mean. We’re suppose’ to love Dad ‘n all of our siblings, ‘n I do, but that’s not what you two have. I see the way you smile atter, Sam. I wish I had someone t’ smile at like that.” He reached for the decanter of angel booze, but Chloe picked it up and moved it out of his reach. He looked up at her with an affronted pout that was so like Lucifer that she snorted, then, against her better judgement, sat down at the side of the hot tub, legs crossed.

I guess we’re doing this, she thought.

“Humans spend a lot of time looking for love, Michael. There’s no reason you couldn’t try to find someone, too.”

“Yeah, there’s defin’ly some guy or gal out there who’s lookin’ for a morose angel with no fasshin sense. Maybe you can find an innernet forum for turtleneck fetishiststs,” Lucifer added unhelpfully.

Michael was too far gone to react to the barb. He shook his head.

“Would’n work. You were made for ‘im, Decker. You fit together like… like…” he floundered a little. “Two ducks inna pond. Perfect ducks. Perfect pond.”

“I’m sure, even without your father’s interference, there is definitely a, uh, duck who wants nothing more than to be in a pond with you, Michael.” How was this her life? Just a few short months prior, Michael was kidnapping her and trying to ruin his brother’s life. Now he was drunk in Lucifer’s hot tub, and she was giving him dating advice. “Just let yourself be open to new possibilities.”

“Imma angel of fear. Who wants t’ be 'fraid all the time?”

Yeah, Chloe had to get these two to bed, and soon.

“Plenty of humans like being scared. That’s why we have haunted houses and roller coasters. Horror movies. How about you two get out of the tub and get some sleep, and we can talk more about this in the morning?”

Neither angel moved to stand. Lucifer was repeatedly scooping a hand into the water of the tub and letting the it trickle between his fingers. He was gazing at the droplets as if they were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

Michael was staring into space, pondering what Chloe had just said. “Humans like to be scared? That hasn’t been my ‘xperiensh.”

“Not all humans, and not every type of scary, but yeah. The adrenaline rush can be thrilling. It makes us feel alive.”

“But you are alive. Don’ you already feel ‘live?”

This clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

“Okay, Michael, I can’t make you get out of the hot tub, but I think you’ll feel a lot better if you do. Lucifer—” Lucifer dropped his latest handful of water with a splash and snapped his eyes to hers. “—if you were to pass out in this tub while I’m nearby, you could actually drown. Get. Out.” And with that she went to the wall of the penthouse where the controls for the hot tub were and switched it off.

Lucifer got out eventually, though not without his usual amount of whining. Michael followed soon after, and Chloe averted her eyes skyward until he wrapped a towel around himself, succeeding in getting it firmly in place on the third try.

Once she herded them inside, she made both drink a full glass of water (“But Detective, there’s a perfettly good ’05 Macallan righ’ behind you!”), then herded Lucifer towards his bed.

Lucifer promptly took off his towel, flopped on the bed, and starfished across it in all his naked glory. Chloe stepped back out onto the balcony to find Michael’s pants, but by the time she located them and came back inside, the prince of the heavenly host had passed out on the couch. His towel had loosened and was threatening to come off, so Chloe grabbed a blanket and draped it over the sleeping angel.

And if a little, tiny, irritated part of her brain hoped that both of them woke with horrific hangovers, could anyone really blame her?

Chapter Text

Before Chloe knew it, it was the evening before they were to drive up to the “cabin”. She spent a few hours on Thursday making sure she had everything she needed packed, making sure that Trixie had everything packed, then going back and checking her suitcase again, just in case.

“Darling, I don’t think anything has vanished out of there in the time since you last looked,” Lucifer said, leaning against her bedroom doorframe in a languid posture that shouldn’t have been arousing but somehow was.

“I know, I know,” said Chloe. “I just can’t help worrying that I’ll forget something.”

Lucifer stepped closer and drew her into a hug. “Darling, everything is prepared and exactly where it should be.”

As if on cue, Trixie shouted up the stairs. “Moooooom, I can’t find Miss Alien!”

Chloe and Lucifer’s eyes met, and Chloe sighed, stepping away from the Devil’s warmth.

“You just undermined the point I was making, Spawn!” Lucifer called back down.

“If that’s all it took, then it probably wasn’t a very good point!” was the shouted reply.

“Good grief, when did she get that attitude?” asked Lucifer, looking affronted.

Chloe just laughed in reply and went downstairs to hunt for the wayward stuffed toy.

-----------

A few hours later, Trixie was in bed and her suitcase near the door was topped by Miss Alien, who would be joining on the trip.

Lucifer sat on the couch, one arm draped behind the detective as she put the finishing touches on a long text.

Chloe Decker, 9:37 p.m.: Hi everyone, I hope you’re all excited for our weekend away! I’ve been asking Lucifer and Amenadiel for more information on their siblings who will be joining us, as well as for some general etiquette advice. It’s nothing to get too worked up about, I just thought I’d try to ease some of the culture shock that both we and the other guests might experience.

So:

-It’s OK to ask an angel to show you their wings, but never touch them unless explicit permission is given, and that isn’t a request you should make lightly.

-Don’t worry about common idioms involving their father or Heaven or Hell (ex. Oh my God). They won’t be offended, but they might think you’re being literal.

-Don’t bring up the rebellion or Lucifer’s Fall. Those are very sensitive topics.

-If you ever feel like one of them is talking down to you, try not to take it personally. They were taught to interact with humans in a cold and aloof way. Just let Amenadiel know, he’ll have a talk with whoever it is.

“Why not me, Detective?” interrupted Lucifer, who was reading her draft over her shoulder.

“Would you give whichever sibling it is a patient explanation of human social expectations and how they need to adjust their behavior?” asked Chloe, eyebrow raised.

“No, I’d tell them to quit being an uppity pillock.”

“Exactly.”

-Don’t tell Gabriel anything you don’t want the entire universe knowing.

-This is Raphael’s first time on Earth, and apparently he’s very nice—

“You spelled ‘weird’ wrong, Detective.”

—but doesn’t spend time around human souls in Heaven, so you may have to be extra patient with him.

-If Jophiel tells you to close your eyes and hold out your hand/take a deep breath/open your mouth, don’t.

-Michael and Lucifer developed some angel-strength liquor. DO NOT DRINK IT. They marked the bottles with red ribbons. Probably best not to smell it either.

I think that’s everything. It may seem like a lot but don’t worry—we have the whole day tomorrow with just us humans and the angels we already know. See you all bright and early! 🙂

Chloe sent the last text and looked over at Lucifer.

“Well, I guess here goes nothing.”

-----------

Linda M., 10:10 p.m.: Great idea to ask about these things, Chloe! Amen. & I have everything packed up for Charlie. It’s going to be so nice to get away for a couple days.

Daniel Espinoza, 10:15 p.m.: 👍

Ella✨, 10:23 p.m.: omg guyz this is gonna be awesome!

Ella✨, 10:25 p.m.: I’m gonna ask all of them if I can see their wings. Like whenever else will I get the chance?

Ella✨, 10:32 p.m.: How did they make the angel booze? Is it just 200 proof, or is it more complicated than that?

Ella✨, 10:32 p.m.: Because I don’t think that would taste very good, and I can’t imagine 😈 would drink something like that after all the top shelf.

Ella✨, 10:41 p.m.: Wait have you guys already met Michael? What’s he like? Cause he’s super important in the Catholic Church. Does he wear armor like in all the paintings?

Ella✨, 10:43 p.m.: nvm, why would he wear armor lol

Ella✨, 10:46 p.m.: HOLY SHIT

Ella✨, 10:46 p.m.: IS HE ACTUALLY THE ONE WHO KICKED LUCIFER OUT OF HEAVEN?????

Ella✨, 10:47 p.m.: IF HE IS, I’M TOTALLY GLAD THEY’RE GETTING ALONG, BUT THAT’S STILL SUPER MESSED UP NGL

Ella✨, 10:47 p.m.: (Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask any of them about it, but WTF!!!!)

Ella✨, 11:51 p.m.: I made an awesome playlist for the drive up. Added every single song about angels or the devil that I could find. I wonder if 😈 will approve.

Ella✨, 12:20 a.m.: Should I bring board games?

Ella✨, 1:07 a.m.: I packed a variety. It’s hard because all the games that work well for large groups require some shared cultural background. Like, would Trivial Pursuit even work?

Ella✨, 1:07 a.m.: I’ll take it just in case, but I also brought some others for smaller groups. You can’t go wrong with Catan, right?

Ella✨, 1:08 a.m.: Whoa, I just realized how late it is. I hope I’m not waking anyone up! See you all tomorrow!

Ella✨, 2:13 a.m.: I wonder if they make Bible Trivial Pursuit?

-----------

The next morning was chaotic, in the way that the start of a road trip usually is. They ate breakfast, loaded the luggage into the car, and set off. For the sake of comfort and since the lake house didn’t have a garage, Lucifer had swapped the Corvette out for a stately silver Bentley that, to Chloe, seemed too regal for her goofy boyfriend. It wasn’t until she got into the passenger seat and sank into the world’s most comfortable leather upholstery that she understood why he had it. The interior was palatial and luxurious.

They had only made it a few blocks when Trixie remembered that she hadn’t grabbed the homework that she needed to have done by Monday. They turned around, and Trixie sprinted back into the apartment, appearing again with a notebook and a green plastic folder.

“Did you lock the door, Monkey?” Chloe asked as her daughter buckled herself in again.

“Yep,” said Trixie.

When they reached the highway, they found it was completely crammed with traffic. It seemed like everyone wanted to get out of LA for the weekend.

“Oh man, we’re gonna be so late!” groaned Chloe. “I need to text the others.”

The plan was for the cars to meet up at a rest stop on the edge of the city, then caravan their way to the lake house.

Chloe was right, they were late, but so was everyone else. Ella’s car pulled into the lot at the same time they did.

“I thought you were going to ride with Dan!” Chloe called over to her.

“I was, but when I told him how fast I’m going to drive, he chickened out,” said Ella, grinning. She got out of her car, and the others followed suit. Chloe enjoyed the feeling of stretching her legs, knowing that she’d be sitting for the next few hours.

Ella gave enthusiastic hugs to Chloe, then Trixie, then finally Lucifer, who went rigid as he always did, but seemed to tolerate her presence. “Thanks for inviting me, buddy,” she murmured into his shirt.

“Of course,” said Lucifer, awkwardly patting her back. “I want all my friends there.”

When Ella pulled away, Chloe swore that her eyes looked a little misty.

“Has anyone heard from Dan?” asked Chloe. She pulled her phone from her pocket to check if she’d missed a text, but it immediately started ringing.

“Making his excuses, I’m sure,” said Lucifer under his breath.

“Actually, it’s Linda.” Chloe put the phone to her ear. “Hi Linda, what’s up? Are you guys stuck in that awful traffic?”

“Hi Chloe,” said the other woman. Her voice was equal parts apology and exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, but I think you guys are going to have to head out without us. It has been a morning here, and I think it’s best if we take it a bit slower and head up in the afternoon.”

She went on to tell a story that involved a sleepless night and copious amounts of baby spit-up that required doing an extra load of laundry.

“That is one part of having a baby that I do not miss,” said Chloe, wincing. “You guys take your time, and call any of us if you need directions.”

Dan pulled into the lot just as Chloe hung up. She felt a pang of relief at the sight of his familiar car—a little part of her was afraid he’d changed his mind.

“I’m so sorry, everyone, that traffic is brutal,” he said, joining them next to the Bentley. Chloe noted that he didn’t blanch at the sight of Lucifer, although he didn’t meet his eyes either.

“Don’t worry about it, we only got here a couple minutes ago,” Ella reassured him. “What did Linda have to say, Chloe?”

“She told us to go on ahead, and they’ll come up at some point in the afternoon. I guess it was a rough night for Charlie.”

“Oof, understandable,” Ella sympathized. “Well then, shall we?”

After waiting a moment for Trixie to move her things to Dan’s car so she could ride with him, the little caravan set off. At first the Bentley took the lead, but the minute the traffic lightened up on the periphery of the city, Ella pulled into the passing lane and put her foot down, roaring ahead. Lucifer started to follow suit, but Chloe reached out and grabbed his leg. “If I were on duty, I’d have to give her a ticket. We are not going to be driving that fast.”

“But Detective!” Lucifer whined, nearly pouting. “If we get pulled over, you can just flash your badge at them. Why wouldn’t you take advantage of that?”

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, then stopped and shut it. A mischievous glint came into her eye.

“Maybe I want us to take our time,” she said, and gently slid her hand higher on Lucifer’s thigh.

Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, well some things definitely can’t be rushed, can they?” he said, giving Chloe a hungry look.

-----------

Ella beat them to the prearranged halfway point, and also to the last tiny town before they made it to the house itself. The Bentley took the lead again, because the rural roads were difficult to follow even with the help of Google Maps. Before too long, the cars pulled up into a driveway that ended in a large circle behind a gorgeous timbered house.

The realtor’s photos really hadn’t done it justice. It had a wooden frame that wouldn’t have been out of place on a proper cabin, but there were also wide glass windows that gave the house a modern look and offered panoramic views of its surroundings. It was proud and stately while still blending in with the natural space, and it didn’t look as monstrous as the square footage suggested. Just beyond one corner of the house, Chloe could see—

“The lake! I wanna go see the lake!” Trixie bounced on her seat and was out the door of the car before it had even stopped rolling.

“Be careful, Monkey! Don’t get in the water yet!” Chloe wasn’t sure if her warning was heard as her daughter zoomed around the corner of the house.

“I’ll go after her,” sighed Dan with a smile on his face, having parked next to the Bentley. He disappeared after his enthusiastic preteen.

“Lucifer! This is incredible!” said Ella, her eyes widened as if to take in as much as possible.

“You are always welcome, Miss Lopez,” said Lucifer, starting towards the small flight of stairs that led up to a wooden deck. The main door opened onto this porch. “Perhaps we should do the tour first, then we can unload the bags?”

Chloe and Ella went to follow, but before they had even made it to the first step, they heard the door open, and a figure crossed the deck and leaned against the railing with a lopsided smile.

“Took you long enough. I was starting to wonder if you’d been kidnapped and dropped in the desert again. No such luck it seems.”

“Mikey! And to think I’d hoped you’d had an unfortunate run-in with a helicopter,” said Lucifer, leading the others up the steps.

“You have a twin?” exclaimed Ella, almost shouting. “How could you not tell me you had a twin? If I had a twin, that would be the first thing I’d say to anyone. I’d say, ‘Hi I’m Ella, I have a twin’, whenever I met someone.” Ella was eyeing the copy of Lucifer, her gaze briefly lingering on the scar on his face.

“Ah yes, I suppose a formal introduction is in order. Miss Lopez, this is my dickhead brother Michael.”

Ella’s eyes went huge. “Michael? As in the Archangel Michael? The Prince of the Heavenly Host? The Sword of God? The one who always has the muscles in the paintings—” she cut herself off, her face going red.

“Goodness Miss Lopez, his ego’s big enough as it is,” said Lucifer.

Ella mechanically held out a hand to the angel, her eyes still the size of saucers. “I’m Ella Lopez. I work with—”

“He knows,” Lucifer interrupted. “You’ve met before.”

Ella turned to look at Lucifer, her hand still outstretched. “When? I would have definitely remembered something like that.”

Michael coughed quietly and had the decency to look embarrassed. “As one of a series of poor choices a few months ago, I may have impersonated Lucifer for a few days.”

“’May have’? May have? You bloody well did!” said Lucifer, rounding on his brother.

“Yes, yes, I did!” Michael held his hands up in a placating gesture “We’ve already been through this. It was wrong, I’m sorry, blah blah blah blah blah.”

“The Brody Aerospace Mars thing,” said Ella suddenly. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

Michael nodded.

The next thing any of them knew, Ella had whipped one of her shoes off and raised it over her head. Michael flinched slightly backwards, having been on the receiving end of her chancla before, but the tiny woman stopped.

“Well, what are you waiting for? He absolutely deserves it,” Lucifer said helpfully.

Michael seemed to be frozen in place and was warily eyeing the raised shoe.

“I know, it’s just,” Ella bit her lip, “there are some things my Abuelita couldn’t forgive me for, and I’m pretty sure hitting St. Michael with my shoe is somewhere on that list.”

“Well then, I’ll do it,” Lucifer said, snatching the shoe out of Ella’s hand. Michael stood straighter and squared off against his twin, seemingly less scared of Lucifer than he was of the diminutive forensic scientist.

Lucifer raised the shoe, ready to strike when—

“Boys!” Chloe put on her best ‘mom voice’. Twin guilty faces turned to her. “Lucifer, give Ella her shoe back. You promised us a tour of the house. Michael, maybe you could start getting our bags out of the cars?”

Lucifer and Michael shared a glance before they both relaxed, properly chagrined. Ella was genuinely impressed by Chloe’s ability to whip angels into shape. Michael moved to walk past her, then stopped.

“I am sorry, Ella Lopez. I sincerely regret deceiving you.”

Ella met the angel’s eyes and knew he was telling the truth.

“I forgive you. I have four brothers, and I know how sibling drama can get out of hand.” She smiled at the thought. “And you can just call me Ella.”

Michael gave an answering smile. “And you can call me Michael. The whole “saint” thing is honestly just embarrassing.” He held her gaze for a second longer, before ducking his head and trotting down the stairs to act as some sort of angelic bellhop.

“Shall we?” asked Lucifer, presenting an arm. Chloe had already taken the other.

Together they set off into the house.

Chapter Text

They unloaded their bags, divvied up bedrooms and had just begun raiding the kitchen (which Lucifer had had stocked the day before) to make a simple lunch when Trixie, who had just returned from her first exploration of the lake, pointed at the lake-side picture window and asked, “Who’s that?”

The adults turned as one and found they had a visitor, who was waving merrily through the glass. Lucifer groaned, and Michael glared at him, then went to open the sliding door.

The woman was short, bright-eyed, and had halo of brown curls on top of her head. Chloe eyed the slightly Romanesque sky-blue jumpsuit she wore—she had to be one of Lucifer’s sisters.

“Gabriel!” Lucifer greeted her, "I believe the invitation specified that you were welcome to come tomorrow morning.  Or have you forgotten how to read?”

“I know, Luci, but I couldn’t just sit around waiting while all the fun stuff was starting down here! Plus, I wanted to see my brothers.” She gave Michael’s arm a friendly punch. He rubbed it with an injured look, but Chloe could tell it barely masked an expression of fondness. “Also, I wanted to meet all your humans. Hi, humans!” She waved enthusiastically at everyone else in the room. Trixie and Ella waved back.

“They aren’t my humans, Gabby. They’re my friends,” Lucifer said with exasperation. He began pulling an extra place setting out of the cabinets.

“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” said the angel, before her eyes lit on Chloe. She crossed the room unnervingly fast, and suddenly Chloe’s vision was filled with a beaming face and brown curls. “Is this your miracle? She’s so pretty! Hi, I’m Gabriel!”

Chloe, feeling slightly overwhelmed, held out her hand. “Chloe Decker.”

Gabriel grabbed her hand and began shaking it with such vigor that Chloe was afraid her shoulder would be dislocated. “I know! We all know! There was a while there when it’s all anyone was talking about in the Silver City.”

In an attempted to divert the angel's very intense gaze, Chloe yanked her hand away and began to introduce everyone else. “This is Dan Espinoza. He’s my daughter Trixie’s dad.”

She gestured at Trixie and Dan. Dan gave a wave that would have been casual if his eyes weren’t unnaturally wide due to unexpectedly meeting a legendary angel. Trixie just grinned at Gabriel and waved again.

“And that’s Ella, our friend.”

"Hi!" said Ella, nearly vibrating with excitement.

“Oh. My. Dad. Your shirt is amazing! I mean, what does that even mean?” said Gabriel with equal enthusiasm.

The shirt in question was pale pink and depicted an avocado with wings and a halo above the words “Holy guacamole!”.

“It’s just a thing people say when they’re surprised,” Ella said, looking down at her shirt. “It just sounds fun and silly because it rhymes. I’ve also heard ‘holy cannoli’ before.”

“Ooh, cannoli!” exclaimed Lucifer from the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll make a quick flight back to Lux and grab supplies for making pastry.”

“Lucifer, I’m hungry, let’s just make sandwiches,” came Chloe’s protest.

After brief negotiations, Lucifer agreed to sandwiches, although he disappeared for a few minutes and returned with several sourdough loaves from a high-end bakery in Hollywood. They were still warm. After checking that Lucifer and Chloe didn’t need any help with the lunch prep, Ella invited Gabriel to go explore the lakeside with her. The angel enthusiastically agreed to join, and, after a few moments, Michael decided to tag along as well.

The lake was picturesque; it was surrounded by pines, with a mountain peak rising beyond the trees along the far shore. Beside the dock was a gravel beach, but the stones were smooth enough that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable to walk on barefoot.

She had invited Gabriel because she seemed like a sweetheart, and Ella thought she could make some progress on her list of questions about the divine and the nature of the universe, now that she had confirmation that it all existed. However, it soon became clear that she would have to work hard to get a word in sideways. Gabriel talked a lot. Even more than she did.

Before they even made it to the beach, Ella was embroiled in all the latest gossip about heaven and its angelic occupants. She didn't mind; Gabriel's stories were fun, and she was able to admire her surroundings as she learned about Barachiel’s new haircut that everyone hated but no one wanted to be the one to say it.

Michael seemed to be of a similar mind. He looked far more relaxed than Ella had seen him yet, and Ella even caught the occasional smile in response to Gabriel’s more amusing remarks.

In the end, they settled on the beach to look at the waves.

Ella’s mouth quirked up briefly in a smile as Michael dropped into a sitting position with no hesitation—she could already imagine Lucifer’s protestations if he were there (This is Prada!). It was clear the twins were different, far beyond the scar on Michael’s face. Where Lucifer was exuberant, Michael was reserved. Where Lucifer was vain, Michael was more practical. Not that he wasn’t good looking, of course. I mean, both he and Lucifer are stupid attractive, Ella thought.

She blushed as she realized the direction her thoughts had started to go and quickly turned her eyes down, gently running her hand through the pebbles of the beach.

“Gabby,” interrupted Michael during a story about Camael starting a rumor about Selaphiel as revenge for a prank that she and Hanjobadiel played on Oriphiel, “generally conversations are expected to be at least slightly bidirectional.”

“Oh, sorry,” said his sister, shooting Ella an apologetic look. “I’m the angel of messages, you know. If I have something to say, I just kinda—” she held her hands near her mouth, then splayed them open while gesturing outwards, miming vomiting. “-blehhhh.”

“No, that’s fine, I’m the same way. You get me started talking about something interesting, and I just won’t shut up. My brother Ricardo always used to call me—”

Gasbag.

The word tore through Ella’s stream of thought, and suddenly she was on her back on the floor of a small ranch house. The smell of lilies was heavy in the air, and hands were on her neck, and she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe.

A rushing sound filled her ears as she felt bands tighten around her chest. Darkness started to eat away the very edges of her vision when suddenly—

“Be not afraid.”

The voice arrived in her head without going through her ears. It spoke with the sepulchral tone of funeral bells and the timbre of a yawning chasm; it felt like a dark cave in which she could tuck herself away—safe, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. The roof of the ranch house faded and was replaced with dark eyes, so deep she could drown in them.

The voice spoke again, but it no longer had the echoing weight it had before. “You’re safe. You’re on a beach beside a mountain lake. There is stone beneath you, sky above you, and there are trees around you. You have friends nearby who will ensure your wellbeing. You have nothing to fear at this time in this place.”

As the rushing in her ears died down, she heard another voice, higher pitched, twittering unlike the one that had spoken earlier. “Is she okay? Is this normal? Is this just a thing humans do?”

Ella found that her lungs were expanding far more easily, and the relief it brought made her want to cry.

“There, there,” came Gabriel’s voice again. She was rubbing Ella’s back in soothing circles, and a blanket had been draped around her shoulders. Ella was finally able to focus on the other angel, who was kneeling in front of her.

“Michael? How did you… What did you do?” she said, her voice cracking slightly.  Breathing was coming easily now, but it would be a while before her heart stopped pounding.

“You know Lucifer’s whole desire schtick?”

Ella nodded wordlessly.

“Fear is to me what desire is to him.” He watched Ella, whose eyes remained unfocused. “I’m the Angel of Fear. Usually I’m causing it, but I can remove it too. Especially when it’s undeserved and serves no purpose.”

“Th—thanks,” Ella mumbled, scrubbing a hand across her eyes. “This must seem so stupid to you.”

“Of course not,” interjected Gabriel. “I’m sure whatever you felt was terrifying.”

Ella’s brain was functioning well enough again that she was able to process what Michael had just told her, and she was struck with the possibility that he may have seen exactly what had made her so afraid. She met the angel’s eyes again but found them inscrutable.

“Thank you both. Really,” she said. “I just have some… some stuff I’m dealing with right now.” She went to pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders but yelped when her hand met feathers over warm muscle instead.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, craning her neck around to see the wing that she had mistaken for a blanket.

“Yeah, Dad made them. They’re pretty nifty.” Gabriel stood from where she was kneeling next to Ella and stretched her wings to an impressive span. They were a beautiful fawn color, and Ella found herself struggling to tear her eyes away.

“They’re gorgeous,” she breathed. Her awe was overriding the lingering effects of her panic attack.

“Haven’t you seen Lucifer’s? I like mine, but his…” Gabriel tilted her head a little and raised her eyebrows. “They’re really something else.”

“Yes, yes, everyone loves Sam and his glow-in-the-dark wings,” said Michael acerbically.

“Sam?” repeated Ella.

“He was once known as Samael.”

“But he really doesn’t like it, so it's probably best not to mention it.” Gabriel shot her brother a look.

As if on cue, Lucifer appeared on the back deck of the house and shouted, his voice carrying across the lake’s smooth surface. “Oy, are you lot done braiding each other’s hair yet? Sandwiches! Chop chop!”

“Well, speak of the dev—” Ella cut herself off mid-sentence, realizing what she was about to say. Gabriel giggled, and even Michael let out a snort.

“Yes, ‘Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear and eat all of your sandwiches if you don’t get to them first’,” finished Michael, hopping up. “Come on, I’m starving.”

He held out his hand to Ella, and she gratefully used it to stand. And if she missed the warmth of his hand as they started back towards the house, who would ever know?

-----------

Lucifer had pushed together two patio tables and placed all the food in the middle. Chloe was happy to see that Ella was having a good time talking with Gabriel, while Michael and Lucifer barely sniped at each other, and Dan seemed almost completely normal with regards to the unusual guests around the table. In fact, a conversation between him and the angels was the highlight of the meal.

“I don’t understand, we have plenty of food here,” said Michael. He and Gabriel wore matching expressions of utter confusion.

“I don’t want to fish because we need food. It’s a hobby. It’s relaxing,” said Dan, equally confused by how alien this concept was to the others.

“But you’ll be in a boat, right?” said Gabriel, as if trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle.

“Or on a dock, yeah.”

“Just sitting?” clarified Michael.

“Just sitting and relaxing.”

“But why do you need fish to sit and relax? You can do that just as easily without them,” said Gabriel.

“I mean, yeah, but—”

“Sister, humans display many behaviors that are completely illogical, and this is one of them,” interrupted Lucifer. “Some members of the species, usually male, have a defect in their brain that causes a periodic urge to impale worms on spikes and sit around while being eaten by mosquitos. Pay him no mind.”

“That’s not what fishing is!” said Dan, indignant.

“It isn’t?” said Chloe, innocently. She hid her smile behind her drink, while Dan sputtered.

“C’mon, Ella, Trixie, back me up here!”

“He’s kinda right, Dad.”

“Some sort of brain parasite would explain the behavioral abnormalities.”

Trixie wore her innocent expression, and the corners of Ella’s mouth were pinched inwards.

“Unbelievable!” Dan threw his hands in the air.

-----------

Ella decided to help with the clean-up after lunch, seeing as she hadn’t helped prepare the food. Dan joined her, as did Chloe, despite their protests.

“Honestly guys, I could use a little break from Lucifer,” she said in an undertone. “I think he’s super nervous about everyone coming tomorrow, so he can’t relax and he’s driving me a little up the wall.”

“Yeah Chlo,” said Dan, rolling the top of a bag of potato chips and putting a clip on it, “I like the guy, don’t get me wrong, but I have no idea how you spend so much time around him without going nuts.”

“The day’s not over yet,” muttered Chloe.

“Hey guys,” said Ella suddenly, her voice a half octave higher than normal. “What’s Michael’s deal?”

Chloe wasn’t sure if Ella was aiming for nonchalance, because if so, she failed.

Dan didn’t seem to notice. “He’s a dick. That’s his deal.” He gave a derisive snort.

“I mean, he’s a complicated guy,” said Chloe, wondering when she’d started to feel the need to defend the grumpy angel.

“'Complicated'? Really? Do I need to remind you how I met him?” asked Dan. “He tried to trick me into shooting one of my fr—colleagues.”

“Whoa, what?” said Ella, her eyes ping-ponging between her friends.

“Yes, but he’s really trying to be better,” said Chloe.

“Hang on, back up a minute guys. Who did he try to get you to shoot?”

“It was Lucifer, and it was before Michael and him decided to try patching things up,” Chloe sighed.

“He tried to get Lucifer killed?” Ella had been dropping silverware into the dishwasher, and she’d frozen with a fork in each hand.

“Yeah, but he’s also done some good things!” Chloe protested. She was only now realizing that she, like Lucifer, had truly decided to give Michael a second chance.

“He kidnapped you, Chlo!” Dan exclaimed, raising his voice enough that Chloe was thankful that everyone else was outside.

“What?” Ella shouted.  She whipped her head around to stare at Chloe.

“Yes, I remember,” said Chloe, wincing and patting her hands palm-down in front of her, in the universal ‘keep it down’ sign.

“Chloe, dish,” said Ella, her voice lower.

“Well, you remember that time a couple months ago, where I was kidnapped out of my apartment and turned up the next day in an abandoned zoo, and I said I never got a good look at who did it?”

Ella went pale. She had only heard about the story in the following days, because that was the day when… the day when…

Lillies.

Purple light.

A row of syringes.

Ella gripped the edge of the counter to ground herself. She probably would have had another panic attack, if what Chloe was telling her hadn’t been so bizarre.

“Yeah, I lied about that. It was Michael. But I think I’ve forgiven him. I mean, have you seen their family? When you grow up—, er, —spend your formative years in such a high-pressure, high-stakes environment, you’re bound to make some mistakes. Some like, really big, really bad mistakes. I mean, Amenadiel tried to have Lucifer killed, too!”

“What?” Ella felt so confused. She had been trying to reconcile the man Chloe was describing with the sweet angel who had talked her through a panic attack not two hours prior. The pieces just didn’t seem to fit, but she supposed the grumpiness could be masking something darker. But Amenadiel… “But he’s such a teddy bear! Amenadiel, I mean.”

“I know, they just… I guess angels who don’t spend time with humans lose track of morality at our,” Chloe hunted for a word, “...scale. They’re so used to dealing with the universe as a whole, that they sometimes forget about the more, uh, ‘everyday’ standards of right and wrong.”

Dan didn’t look convinced, but Ella could see the logic in that. But still, kidnapping and attempted murder! Those weren’t red flags, they were red flags with red lights, extensive warning signage and a siren. But if Chloe was giving him a second chance…

“What’s the best thing you know that he’s done?” she blurted. “You told me about the worst stuff he’s done. What about the best?”

“Amenadiel?”

“No, Michael!” Ella had seen Amenadiel with Charlie, and therefore knew she’d seen him at his best. “You said he’s making an effort and is doing better. What has he done that made you allow him to be here around us? Around Trixie?”

Chloe thought for a second, then a sweet smile spread across her face. She craned her neck to make sure the three humans were still alone in the kitchen, before continuing in a low voice.

“So, about a month ago, I was staying overnight at the penthouse, and I woke up in the middle of the night and heard Michael and Lucifer talking in the living room. I guess they couldn’t sleep. So I snuck a bit closer to see what they were doing, and I saw both of them sitting on the floor, surrounded by all these books about art and religion,” she was now smiling broadly, and her eyes were unfocused, lost in the memory. “They were looking at paintings of themselves and their siblings, and they were laughing at how silly a lot of the painters had made them look. It was really sweet, and Lucifer looked… he looked so happy.”

Chloe found that her eyes had begun to mist over. “I know he’s happy when he’s with me, but this was—” She tried to swallow down the knot that had appeared in her throat. “I know they were never children, but I like to imagine that they were once as child-like in their happiness as they were that night.”

Ella felt like her heart was going to burst with the sweetness of the image Chloe was describing. Even Dan’s face had softened.

“Uh, yeah,” Chloe said, clearing her throat and breaking the emotional tension of the moment. “That’s his deal. I’ve decided to give him a second chance, but I get why other people might not.”

“I think I’m gonna give him a chance,” said Ella, ducking her head to hide her blush.

Dan rolled his eyes, but the doorbell rang before he could say anything.

-----------

“Linda! Amenadiel! You made it!” Chloe stood back to let them in.

Both of the parents looked frazzled, although Linda did seem calmer than she had on the phone that morning. Charlie, however, was bawling his eyes out.

“Yeah, we did,” said Linda, raising her voice to be heard over her baby’s cries. “We all took naps this morning, which really helped.”

“And Charlie was really well behaved! For ninety percent of the trip. The last half hour, though…” Amenadiel trailed off, dropped the suitcase he was carrying to the floor, and waved generally to indicate his son’s state.

“Is that Charlie?” came a squeal from the doors out to the lakeside patio.

Chloe turned and saw Gabriel with an expression of absolute delight on her face, the fingers of each hand splayed on a cheek, with the heels of her palms meeting under her chin. The other house guests were following her into the living room. Michael was in front of Lucifer, who had his fingers stuffed into his ears and was grimacing at Charlie’s wailing. Trixie was holding the hem of her shirt in front of her; it was filled with several dozen pinecones.

“It’s good to see you, brother,” said Michael. Amenadiel gave him a polite nod, but Linda’s look was cool. She clearly hadn’t forgotten Michael’s earlier use of his abilities to play on her fears.

“Does he have a mute button?” shouted Lucifer, far louder than was necessary.

“This is how babies communicate, Lucifer,” said Linda, unwittingly slipping into ‘therapist mode’. “We’ll figure out what Charlie needs, then he’ll settle down. Hopefully.” She grimaced a little.

Chloe held out her arms to take little Charlie from Linda, but Michael spoke up first.

“He dropped something.”

The women froze.

“Sorry?” said Linda.

Michael grimaced a little. He wasn’t used to using his abilities to… help.

“He dropped something in the car, and it went under the seat. He’s afraid it’s gone forever.” Michael cocked his head, trying to get a better understanding of the feelings swirling around his nephew. “Something pink?” he finished, unsure.

Angels and adult humans were always unconsciously suppressing their fears, burying them under other emotions and memories in an attempt to dull their effect. Babies didn’t. Their fears were always an open book, albeit a brightly colored and often non-chronological one which required no small amount of interpretation.

Amenadiel raised his eyebrows at Linda, then headed back out to the driveway to check the car. Ella and Daniel both came forwards pick up the suitcases Amenadiel had dropped.

Gabriel was staring at Charlie and taking hesitating steps towards where he sat in Linda’s arms, her desire to meet her nephew clearly at war with her distaste for the noise of the bawling infant.

Amenadiel soon reappeared, holding a small, pink, overall-clad elephant. “He dropped Ellie!” he exclaimed.

As soon as Charlie caught sight of Ellie the Elephant, his tears dried up, and he held out a hand. His father handed him the toy and, after giving it a cautious shake and listening to the jingle of a small, internal bell, Charlie's face lost all doubt, and he grinned and giggled.

Linda eyed Michael again, reappraising him.

“Thank you, Michael. That was very helpful.”

Michael gave a curt nod, clearly embarrassed to be receiving praise in front of everyone.

“Is he afraid of anything else?” Linda asked suddenly.

“Uh,” Michael closed his eyes and concentrated on the images and feelings clouding the air around the baby. Judging by the sounds he was making, the dominant emotion was happiness, but Michael couldn’t sense that. He focused on the images tinged with the scent of fear. The impression of soft, pink comfort falling out of a chubby hand and disappearing below grey upholstery was gone, and now there was...

"There’s a face. It’s projected across a ceiling at night by a small lamp. He’s afraid the face will eat him.”

“Aww, Charlie! We’ll buy you a new nightlight on the way back home, okay?” Linda asked her child, who had one of Ellie’s feet in his mouth.

Now that Charlie had stopped crying, Gabriel was fascinated. She was standing as close as she possibly could, unwittingly putting herself in Linda’s way as she tried to get Charlie’s things unpacked. Eventually Linda handed the baby to Chloe, making Gabriel her problem as well.

“He looks a little like Amenadiel!” the angel exclaimed, as if that was a big revelation. “I mean, I know that's how it works with humans, but it’s so cool to see it with one of us! He’s got Amenadiel’s eyes and ears, but the doctor’s mouth and smile!”

As if on cue, Charlie gave a broad grin, and offered Ellie to his aunt. She took it, her expression of awe quickly turning to disgust as she adjusted her grip on the toy so it was pinched between two fingers.

“Oh, wow, that is soaking! Are human babies usually this wet, or just babies that are half-Amenadiel?”

Chloe snorted. “All babies are like this. Do you want to hold him?”

The mixture of revulsion and fear that crossed Gabriel’s features was so reminiscent of Lucifer when she suggested wearing polyester that Chloe burst into laughter.  Charlie joined in with a giggle of his own, before stretching his chubby hands out towards his aunt.

With just a little help from Chloe, the infant was settled into Gabriel's arms.

Chloe took one look at the angel's face and couldn't help but smile. That baby was going to be the pride and joy of his extended heavenly family. He would want for nothing.

Chapter Text

Dan picked up one of the suitcases by the door and nodded to Amenadiel.

“Hey man, I’ll show you where your room is.”

“Thanks, Dan,” replied the angel, trying to cover his nerves. This was his first time being close to his friend since Daniel had learned the truth of his nature.

They started moving down the hallway, with Amenadiel a few steps behind. He had a suitcase in each hand and took up nearly the full width of the hallway.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Dan cleared his throat.

“So, uh, I guess I really should apologize for, you know, ghosting you these last couple months.” The words sounded lame even as he said them. “I didn’t handle the whole ‘revelation’ thing very well, and I’m sorry that my reaction affected our friendship.”

He gestured with his head to a doorway on the right, indicating that it was the one allotted for Linda, Amenadiel, and Charlie. The large room was the house’s master bedroom, with an equally large ensuite bathroom. Chloe had persuaded Lucifer to cede the room to his brother’s family so that they had space for all of Charlie’s things. He had whinged about how they wouldn’t appreciate the size of the bathtub, and that he had had plans for Chloe and himself to make extensive use of it. Chloe had suppressed an eyeroll.  She had long since learned that honey worked far better than vinegar when it came to Lucifer. A simple mention of a racy dream in which she was in a tiny shower cubicle with him made all objections to the sleeping arrangement disappear. It had also completely derailed them for the next 90 minutes.

Dan dropped the suitcase he was carrying by the foot of the bed, while Amenadiel carried his two to the closet.

“No, Dan,” he said, turning back. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I withheld the truth from you, knowing that it would be much worse for you if you found out on your own. I hope you can forgive me for that.” He sat down heavily on the bed.

“Of course, dude,” said Dan immediately. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Amenadiel patted the mattress next to him, and Daniel joined. They both stared out at the lake through the room’s large picture windows.

“I used to always think that I knew exactly what my Father wanted,” said Amenadiel reflectively.

God, thought Dan. He’s talking about actual God.

“But over the last few years, I’ve learned that it’s not as black-and-white as I thought. It is forbidden to let humans and the divine mix. Or at least, I thought it was. Now I'm starting to think it’s just discouraged. So, I never told you the truth, even after Chloe found out in a way that caused so much hurt. I defaulted to my old ways, instead of doing what was best for you and our friendship.”

“Look man, I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to have a secret like that, but I’d bet that you were worried that it would change our friendship. Sometimes it’s easier to just keep doing things the same way you’ve always done them, even when you know it’ll be worse in the long run.” Dan’s actions in the lead-up to his divorce from Chloe rose to the forefront of his mind.

“Yeah, I guess I was a bit worried about that. I missed you, Daniel.” The angel was smiling over at him.

“I missed you too. And sorry again for going AWOL for so long. It had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with… everything else.”

“I get it. It’s a lot,” said Amenadiel. “Water under the bridge.”

Daniel returned his friend’s smile and stood to rejoin the other guests.

“So, your sister Gabriel is here, and she’s very sweet, but she’s also a lot. Do you have any tricks for, you know, dealing?”

Amenadiel stood with a sigh. “Honestly, we’ve all gotten pretty good at tuning her out. She basically never asks a question when she’s on a roll, so you’ll be pretty safe if you just nod and say ‘uh-huh’ every now and then.”

-----------

Trixie had found a frisbee. Some casual throws had rapidly turned into Trixie throwing it as hard as she could across the lake and Gabriel winging after it, trying to grab it before it hit the surface of the water. When Lucifer caught sight of the game, he gave a derisive snort.

“Are you playing fetch, dear sister?”

“I dunno,” said Gabriel, nearly dropping the frisbee on Trixie’s head as she swooped low to return it. “What’s fetch?”

Before Lucifer could offer a snide response, Trixie interrupted.

“Lucifer, could you fly to a store and buy me some more frisbees? It would be a lot of fun with a bunch of them!”

Lucifer opened his mouth, no doubt to insist that he wasn’t some sort of carrier pigeon for toys, but Trixie pulled out all the stops and looked up at him with wide, watery brown eyes. She even made her lower lip tremble a little. “Pleeeeeeease?”

“Fine!” Lucifer threw his hands in the air. “But I’ll have you know that I invented the practice of begging for things with puppy eyes, and they don’t work on me. I’m only doing this because you’re the most tolerable human spawn I know, and I like your mother.” And he was gone in a flash of white feathers.

“You know, for a guy who never lies to other people, he lies to himself a lot,” Trixie commented to Gabriel, who was waiting patiently for her to throw the frisbee again.

-----------

Lucifer reappeared almost half an hour later, each arm laden down with nearly a dozen bags. In true Lucifer fashion, he had gone completely overboard and had purchased what looked like an entire aisle of various summer toys. He had a massive pile of frisbees of all shapes and sizes, and he quickly began removing the price stickers. The bags also contained pool noodles, balls of all shapes and sizes, several super soakers and squirt guns, and a variety of pool inflatables, including both a small raft and a life-sized alligator. The pièce-de-résistance was a set of floating goals that they could score in with the soccer-, basket-, wiffle- and ping-pong balls.

Trixie inflated one of the goals and pushed it out into the lake, before challenging Gabriel to keep her from scoring. Gabriel was able to do so handily at first, but Trixie soon set the other goals afloat and became far more strategic with her throwing, and the angel struggled to keep up even with her superhuman speed. The first goal Trixie made was with a ping-pong pall that she tossed into a goal that had drifted close to the shore while Gabriel was chasing a blue foam ball that she had lobbed as hard as she could in the other direction.

“Oh my gosh, I want to play too!” squealed Ella, when she saw what was going on.

“C’mon, two on one, that’s not fair!” whined the angel of messages.

“Let’s get Michael, then! Michael!” Ella shouted and waved at Michael, who was stretched on a lounge chair on the porch with a book. “Come play with us! We need to even out the teams!”

Playing a silly, pointless game was a laughable idea to Michael. It was something he had done with his siblings once, yes, but that was a long, long, long time ago. But something about the Lopez human made him consider it. Why does it matter which human is asking? He chastised himself. It’s beneath your dignity to play frivolous games with a human and a human child.

He was just as surprised as everyone else when he replied, “Yeah, sure, give me a second,” and put down his book.

Within about half an hour, the rules of Angel Quidditch (as named by Ella) had been cemented. Each team consisted of one human and one angel. The humans threw balls and frisbees, trying get them into the goals, earning one point every time they succeeded. The angels needed to block their siblings to get their human a clear shot, while simultaneously trying to catch the objects thrown by the humans on the other teams before they could score a point. Caught objects were dropped back with their teammate on shore. The game gained an extra dimension when Trixie declared that angels had to sit out for ten seconds if they were hit with something and didn’t catch it, or if they fumbled a catch. By this point, Linda and Amenadiel had joined. Lucifer looked over at Chloe hopefully, only to find her with her phone out to capture the action, acting as the group’s videographer,

“Well, what do you say?” asked Dan, appearing at Lucifer’s elbow.

“Fine, if we must,” said Lucifer, rolling his eyes.

Lucifer brought a level of aggression to the field (i.e. the pond) that had never before been seen in the brief history of Angel Quidditch.

“Lucifer, you have to actually catch some of them,” complained Dan from the sidelines, as Lucifer completely ignored the flying balls in favor of attempting to drive Amenadiel down into the water by swooping at him from above. Gabriel back-winged vigorously away from the kerfuffle, and if the wind from her wings happened to blow a goal closer to where Trixie stood on the shore, then so what?

“Michael, that wasn’t ten seconds!” protested Trixie a few moments later, when she thought he had left time-out prematurely.

“Was too!” Michael shouted back.

“Don’t worry Trixie, I got this!” Linda shouted, aiming a frisbee directly for the archangel’s back. The shout gave Michael enough warning for him to duck under the missile. He turned back to give the doctor a smug grin when a wiffle ball, courtesy of Dan, bounced off his ear.

“A whole ten seconds this time, Michael!” yelled Trixie with an even smugger grin of her own.

The score keeping was far from flawless even when they roped in Chloe, with Charlie bouncing on one hip, to help. There was simply too much going on for one person to keep track.

In the end, the victorious team was almost certainly either Trixie and Gabriel or Michael and Ella. Lucifer and Dan had no team cohesion, and Amenadiel wasn’t aggressive enough to make his team a serious contender.

“We’re going to have to change the rules a little tomorrow with all the other angels coming,” said Trixie as she helped her dad and Michael wrangle all the balls and goals into a pile on the patio.

“We’re gonna play again tomorrow?” asked Dan, embarrassed by how winded he was after the game.

“Of course!” said Trixie, a basketball under each arm. “We’re all going to play!”

“Trixie…”

“Pleeeeease dad?” For the second time that day, Trixie turned her weaponized cuteness up to the maximum.

“Okay, fine!” Dan gave in. “We’ll all play again tomorrow.” He sighed, watching his offspring bounce away, then turned to find Michael eyeing him curiously.

“You humans really will do anything for your families,” the angel said, quietly.

“Yes, of course. It kind of comes with the territory.” Dan wasn’t sure what Michael was driving at.

“I think our family was like that once.”

“What happened?” asked Dan before he could stop himself.

“Oh, many, many things. And then my father asked me to cast my twin into a fiery abyss. And I did it.”

Dan realized he was holding his breath. This was the subject that Chloe’s text had warned them to avoid, but Michael had brought it up unprompted.

He exhaled slowly, then asked a question even as the sensible part of his brain screamed at him not to.

“Do you regret it?”

Michael was staring into space, and for a while Dan thought he might not answer at all.

“Sometimes,” he said finally, so quietly that Dan could barely hear.

“I did a lot of things I regret,” Dan said. “To Chloe, to Trixie. Sometimes I dream that I’m right back there, making the same mistakes over and over again, no matter how hard I try to change and do it all differently.”

Michael’s eyes had returned to his. “That is very similar to how Hell works, Espinoza.”

And there it was. The most terrifying consequence of the revelation of Lucifer’s identity. Hell was a real place, and there was a good chance he was going to end up there. He had been content as a very lapsed Catholic to imagine that death was like falling asleep. Life, followed by the peace of oblivion. But now, the vivid language of fire and brimstone sermons of his youth played over and over in the background of his life as he tried to work and be a good father, a good coparent. Pain and torture and eternal damnation. Was that what awaited him?

It was at that moment that Daniel’s Catholic upbringing brought a fact to the front of his mind. He was standing next to the Great Judge himself. If anyone knew…

“Am I going to Hell?” He blurted suddenly.

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You’re not planning on dying any time soon, I hope.”

“No, not planning but… I could get hit by a bus. I could trip and hit my head on a curb. And I have a bad feeling about what would happen afterwards.”

There was a beat of silence, and the angel’s eyes bored into his. In that moment, Michael emanated agelessness and power.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Michael held Dan’s gaze, needing to see the truth there.

“Yes,” Dan whispered.

Michael took a few steps back from Dan and looked him up and down. His gaze seemed to go beyond Dan’s body, peeling back the layers of his soul. Finally, Michael’s eyes met his again, and the angel’s irises flashed to radiant gold, so fast Dan barely registered the change before the eyes were unfathomable brown once again.

“I have seen souls like yours before the gates.” His voice was expressionless, giving Dan no hint as to what he had seen. “You have not led a blameless enough life to pass my station without scrutiny. Were you to die today and appear before me, I would go over the records of your deeds. You have been trying to make a positive change, right?”

Dan nodded, failing to notice that he was again holding his breath.

“Then I would likely let you pass. You have learned from your mistakes and are trying to be better. I take such things into account. However—”

Dan’s heart froze again, his tentative relief dying in an instant.

“—you carry a lot of guilt. I weigh the choices of those who come before Heaven’s gates, in part to ensure that those who feel no guilt for their misdeeds are not allowed to pass into the Silver City. With as much guilt as you carry, it’s unlikely you will make it as far as the gates, and your soul will instead fall to Sam’s realm.”

Dan was frozen, his eyes the size of dinner plates. “I’m going to Hell,” he whispered.

Michael rolled his eyes at the human’s dramatics.

“Not necessarily. You likely have many years ahead of you to free yourself from your guilt. Your fate is not set in stone.”

“But I could die tomorrow!” Dan said, near hysterical.

Michael groaned internally and stepped into the human’s line of sight.

“Espinoza, if you’re worried about that, you can ask the angel of death tomorrow when she drops by. She’s not supposed to give out that information, but she’s a terrible liar. We should be able to get a rough estimate.”

“And if I’m going to die soon? My soul will end up in Hell.”

“And you’re pretty good friends with its manager. My brother is a grade-A asshat, but he’s not cruel. Do you really think he’d leave you to suffer for all eternity?”

Dan thought of Lucifer. Lucifer’s terrifying red face. Lucifer stealing his pudding. Lucifer dressing as him to work on a case. Lucifer, crashing his improv night. Lucifer, bringing Trixie chocolate cake. No, as much as he absolutely hated the thought, he could trust Lucifer when it came to the big things.

“And then, what? I just hang out with the Devil in Hell for eternity?”

Michael’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I mean, I guess if you really wanted to. But if it were me down there, I’d try to come to terms with my guilt so that my soul could move to the Silver City.”

“Hell’s not… permanent?” asked Dan. “People can leave?”

“No, it’s not permanent. Souls can leave, although—” Michael hesitated for a moment. He had never had to fear eternal torture in a Hell loop, but he could feel Dan’s fears swirling around him like a blizzard. Michael massaged the truth in a way that would make Lucifer proud. “—it’s not a common occurrence. I think you’d have a good shot at it, though, with the Devil by your side.”

Dan was still terrified, but damnation was an easier concept for him to wrap his head around when it wasn’t eternal. And Michael was right—he had friends in the highest of places. And the lowest.

“Look, Espinoza,” said Michael, turning to walk back inside. Dan joined him on autopilot. “My advice, as someone who has seen a lot of souls—and I mean, a lot—: focus on what you’re doing today. You can’t change the past, and your future is dependent on the present, so keep your head in the present as well. It’s not always easy for humans to do, but it’s a lot more effective than pondering the state of your soul.”

Dan was nodding, taking comfort in the words.

Michael eyed the human before attempting a friendly clap on the shoulder.

Daniel winced and rubbed his shoulder. “What was that?”

“Too hard? Sorry, I’ve only seen it in movies; I’ve never actually done that before. How about we head in? I think my moron of a twin should almost be done with dinner.”

-----------

Dinner was, by Lucifer’s standards, a cozy, intimate affair, consisting of a five-course meal of fourteen kinds of cheese with grapes and olives, salade lyonnaise, coq au vin, pots de crème, and hand-made macarons followed by a digestif, the bottle of which probably cost as much as Chloe’s car. Not even Michael could find a single thing to complain about.

The entire party moved out onto the patio after dinner, pulling chairs up around the fire pit. They sat in comfortable silence, staring into the fire, across the lake, or up at the stars. The air was still, and the water’s surface became a mirror for the heavens above.

Even Gabriel was quieter than normal. “Why am I so tired?” she mumbled eventually.

“Food coma,” answered Trixie. “It’s normal.”

Lucifer was watching Chloe’s eyes start to drift shut on his shoulder and was about to suggest that she turn in for the night, when Michael began to sing, low and sweet. It was a song of celebration with the feel of a lullaby. Lucifer knew it, of course; he had written it. But it had been buried so deep under his billions of years of memories that he had been as close to forgetting it as was possible for a being who could not forget.

Amenadiel joined in, his bass tones adding depth to Michael’s tenor.

Lucifer realized that his twin had chosen the song carefully. So very long ago, before the Fall when he had just been Samael, he had written many songs for his brothers and sisters to sing. All were odes and hymns praising his father. There was no other purpose for music yet. None of them had thought to compose melodies about anything else before he had written this song.

Gabriel’s mezzo soprano joined the song. Her voice skipped above the depths of her brother’s voices like a stone on water.

The song was heard for the first time after Samael and Michael had just finished making the star that would shine on the Silver City, dividing life there into day and night. Though the twins had a great deal of leeway during the creative process, the command to create had come from their father. So, when the first sunlit day had begun in the Silver City and Lucifer had marked the moment by singing a new song in praise of their creation, no one commented on the fact that the Almighty made no appearance in the lyrics. The star was a creation of God, as enacted through His sons, so to praise it was to praise Him, right?

In retrospect, Lucifer realized that the change in his composing may have marked a the beginning of a deeper change in who he was as an angel.

The humans were all enraptured by the song, but Lucifer could see Gabriel glancing at him, on edge as she waited for his reaction.

Lucifer looked upwards at the waning moon which reflected the light of another star he and Michael had made, then he raised his voice in song as well.

-----------

Chloe was sitting on the stairs in her pajamas, long past her bedtime, watching her mother and father dance to music playing on the radio in the kitchen. Her father dipped his wife dramatically, leaving her suspended nearly parallel to the floor. Her mom laughed, open-mouthed.

-----------

Dan’s older brother José was looking at the scrape on Dan's knee. Dan wasn’t supposed to play outside until mom and dad came home, but he’d gone out anyway, and now they were going to know he hadn’t listened. He sniffled a bit. José had been studying for his finals. He had much better things to do than look after his kid brother, and Dan felt hot shame at the thought that his serious brother had seen him crying.

“Okay, Danny,” came his brother’s voice, impossibly reassuring. “We’re gonna wash this scrape out and I’ll but a bandage on it. Then we’re gonna watch some cartoons. Do you want to know where dad’s secret ice cream stash is?” That glint in his brother’s eye made Dan feel safer than a hundred Band-aids and a thousand scoops of ice cream ever could.

-----------

Ella leaned back in the theater seat. Her classmates were all chattering around them, but Ella was too busy looking at the giant dome above them. The lights dimmed, and the ceiling above them filled with stars.

“For as long as humans have walked the Earth, they have been observing the night sky above them. Stars have long been the focus of religious thought, tales and folklore, as well as scientific inquiry,” came a pre-recorded voice from speakers between the seats. The voice was soothing, almost hypnotic. “Today, as we tour our solar system and beyond, we’ll be learning just a small part of what humans have gleaned from looking at the stars for tens of thousands of years.”

The image on the screen began to center on one star in particular, before the point-of-view dove towards it. Ella could feel the universe rushing past her.

-----------

Linda scanned the rapidly changing stacks of cards in front of her. She needed to move the nine of hearts off the top of her Pounce pile if she was going to have any hope of winning this round. If only she could find—

“Pounce!” yelled Stacy. Linda and Donna groaned, dropping their hands. It took a little while for the three girls to add up their points for the round, then to update the running score that had slowly changed over six days of summer camp.

Stacy: 146

Donna: 162

Linda: -79

Linda looked at the clock on the wall.

“Do you think we have time for another round?” she asked. Her low score, far from being discouraging, had become a fun facet of the trio's obsessive card playing.

“There's fifteen minutes until lights out. We can do it!” said Donna.

“You’re on!” Linda smiled and began setting up the next game.

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Trixie woke up in her bed. It felt early, and she thought she might as well lay half-asleep for a while longer, enjoying the heavy feeling in her arms and legs that came with a good night’s rest.

She sniffed the air. Someone was making cinnamon rolls. And there was the sound of music being played. Christmas music.

Trixie sat bolt upright in bed. It’s Christmas!

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Charlie thought about warm bottles, the jingle of Ellie the Elephant's bell, his mom’s laughter, and his dad’s eyes, sparkling with joy.

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The insects and cicadas in the nearby trees had stilled. An owl hidden in a great pine turned its head to take in the melody. Far above, a father listened to His children with a smile. This song had always been a particular favorite of His; it was fitting that it should be the first song in eons that the Lightbringer sang with his siblings.

Chapter Text

For some time after the angels finished their song, nobody moved or spoke. It was a different kind of silence than the previous one, which had been fueled by feelings of satiety and warmth. This silence was the sound of people being so deeply immersed in memories that returning to the present felt like surfacing from the depths of an ocean.

Finally, Charlie broke the silence by fussing on his mother’s lap.

“Oh, it is way past your bedtime,” said Linda in a low murmur, not wanting to disturb the others. But the spell had been broken. Chloe stood—her bed was calling her, and she had a feeling that her dreams would be peaceful that night.

One by one, the others stood and made their ways indoors. Dan took the time to spread the ashes of the fire until only embers remained.

“Are you staying here, Gabby?” asked Michael.

“Yeah, I claimed one of the rooms. It’s the one across from you, so no snoring,” Gabriel said with a grin, elbowing her brother playfully in the ribs.

Ella went to her room, prepared for bed, and slipped between the sheets. The singing of the angels had stirred such deep emotions in her that she felt raw inside. It should have been conducive to slumber, but she found herself returning to a familiar pattern of tossing and turning.

It had been this way since… well, for a while now. It felt like her brain wouldn’t turn off. Granted, her brain was always going at warp speed, but usually she could shut her eyes at night and her thoughts would even out to a gentle hum that would lull her to sleep. Lately, though, it felt like her brain tried to stay as boisterous as possible in order to prevent her mind from wandering to unhappy subjects and dark memories.

Ella huffed and turned over again, flipping her pillow to the cool side as she did so. It wasn’t like the tossing and turning was going to be followed by quality sleep, anyhow. Her dreams were filled with syringes, purple light, and the scent of lilies.

After finally giving up and staring at the ceiling, Ella’s mind wandered to the memory she had been immersed in as the angels sang. She had always felt so peaceful at the planetarium, hidden in the dark with the splendors of the universe above her. Maybe she should find someplace to look at the stars; they were gorgeous this far from LA’s light pollution.

She slipped out of bed and pulled her sandals back on, before wandering through the dark house towards the patio again. It was almost midnight, according to the glowing digits of the stove clock. Once outside, Ella made her way to where the bricks of the patio changed to the wood of the dock and pier. At the far side of the decking, she had seen what looked to be a sauna, with a hot tub next to it.

As she got closer, she saw that the hot tub was now occupied.

“Michael?”

The angel’s head snapped up from where it had been leaned back against the jacuzzi’s side.

“Ella? What are you doing up? I thought you went to bed.”

“I tried. Couldn’t sleep,” she shrugged. “Can I join you?”

“I, uh,” the angel sounded abashed. “I didn’t put on any sort of bathing suit.”

Ella carefully kept her eyes level, although her brain did note that Michael hadn’t turned the tub’s jets on.

“I didn’t bring a suit either. I didn’t think anyone would be out here.”

There was a brief pause.

“But… you want to get in anyway?” asked Michael finally.

“If it doesn’t bother you.” Ella had never been particularly prudish.  She'd gone skinny dipping in lakes near Detroit more times than she could count.

“Oh, no, no, of course not. Come on in!”

Is he flustered? thought Ella. He’s been around forever, why would this make him flustered?

“Turn around, your holiness.” Ella pointed one index finger up and waved it in a small circle.

Michael obligingly turned his back.

“I thought humans in this particular subculture had a prohibition on nudity between those of the opposite sex. Those who aren’t involved with one another, at least.” Michael tried to ignore the sound behind him, of zippers sliding and pieces of cloth dropping on the planks of the pier.

“Kinda, but there are a lot of grey areas. And I’ve always thought a lot of people are too uptight about that sort of thing. As long as everyone involved is a consenting adult, what’s the harm, you know?”

There were a few small splashes as Ella lowered herself in. “Oooooh, that’s nice. Okay, you can turn around.”

Michael turned around, and tried not to stare at the way the moonlight highlighted Ella’s clavicles, each dotted with small drops of water. Ella closed her eyes and leaned back, letting out a contented groan.

The sound caused a strange jolt inside him and a feeling of electricity crackling over his skin. What was this? He had seen humans naked before. Tons of humans! This had never happened!

Then Michael realized with a start that his body was exhibiting a very specific physical reaction to go with these thoughts.

Oh.

Oh.

This had never happened before. What was it that humans did? Taking cold showers? Thinking about baseball? He didn’t know enough about baseball—or any other sport— to be able to think about it for more than a few seconds. Well, there was the round of so-called “Angel Quidditch” they had played earlier.

Michael thought about yanking Gabriel down by one ankle so she fumbled a foam ball and had to sit out. He thought of Amenadiel, repeatedly getting close enough to block shots then stopping, because he felt bad about keeping other teams from scoring. He thought of Lucifer, taking the opportunity when swooping down to retrieve balls from the water to slice a wing through the lake surface, creating waves of spray and soaking angel and human alike. Ella’s pale pink avocado-bearing t-shirt had turned a deep rose, and it clung to her skin, showing off curves that—

“Whycantyousleep?” Michael said in a weird, high-pitched, loud voice. Ella looked at him quizzically, and he cleared his throat and tried again. “You said you couldn’t sleep. Any idea why?”

“Oh, just, you know…” she trailed off for a moment, before a thought struck her. “Hey, so earlier today, when you calmed me down, you said you said that fear is your, like, ‘thing’, right?”

“My domain, yes.” Michael was distracted enough by this sudden change in subject that his… ailment began to resolve itself.

“Yeah, so when you use it, can you see what people are afraid of?” Ella bit her lip. Most of her hoped that the handsome angel hadn’t been able to see what had happened to her, but a voice inside her pointed out that she had nothing to be ashamed of and that Michael was unlikely to judge her. “Is it like a Vulcan mind meld?”

“I have no idea what that is, but as to your first question… sometimes. For more mild fears, I can just tell that someone is afraid, but not necessarily of what. I have to pry if I want that information. For more deep-seated or extreme fears, I can get images, smells, sounds.” He sounded thoughtful. “It’s not really like you humans’ imagined concept of mind reading, but that’s not an awful comparison.”

“So could you tell what I…” Ella couldn’t even finish the question.

“Someone tried to kill you,” said Michael. “Someone you thought you could trust.”

Ella had expected it to hurt to have her trauma stated so bluntly. But it actually made her feel better, like an abscess had been opened. Now the rot and pain were exposed, and she could try scrape some of it away and clean the wound.

“Yes,” she said, then quieter, “I was so sure I was going to die.”

Michael debated for a few seconds about whether he should bring up the other thing he could sense in the woman's halo of fear.

She’s strong, he decided.

“That’s not all, though, is it?”

Ella’s eyes went wide in the moonlight. “You can tell?”

Michael tipped his head to one side. “Not really. There’s just something buried deep. Something a bit more… abstract? Existential? I’d have to pry if I wanted details, and I would never do that to you.”

Michael blinked. He didn’t have the same compunctions about lying and keeping promises that his brother had, but he realized that he had meant what he said. Ella would never be subjected to the more brutal side of his gift.

They lapsed into silence for a while. Finally, Ella spoke, but her voice was so quiet that Michael didn’t think he would have heard it without angelic hearing.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

Michael sighed, “Were you talking to Espinoza?”

“Dan? No, why?”

“He asked me to do a little check-up on his soul earlier, to see whether—well, never mind.”

“Can you see my soul?” came the quiet voice again.

“I could if I chose to. Do you want me to look?” The offer felt weightier with her than it had with Dan, though Michael didn’t understand why.

“I think there’s something wrong with it. With me. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Michael met her gaze steadily, making sure she was decided, before he looked at, into, and through the tiny human. Ella let out a little gasp when his eyes blazed gold and reflected off the surface of the jacuzzi.  A few seconds later, the angel relaxed back against the side of the hot tub.

“Oh, I’ve seen this before,” he said.

“So there is something wrong! What is it? What’s inside me?” Ella’s fears surged, giving off an acrid smell with which Michael was very familiar.

“No, Ella, there’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing like what you’re afraid of.”

“Check again!” said Ella, her voice cracking. “I know there’s something rotten in there. I can feel it. Pete—” she choked back a sob, but tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Pete saw it.”

Michael found himself moving closer to her in the hope of offering some sort of comfort, before he remembered that they were both nude. He didn’t reach out to her as he might have done otherwise, but he didn’t retreat back to his side of the hot tub either.

“Ella,” he said. “Ella, look at me.”

Ella’s tear-stained face raised to meet his.

“Do you really think some asshole with a damaged mind and unresolved mommy issues has a better insight into the nature of your soul than I do? I weigh souls, Ella. That’s my job.”

“But you saw something,” Ella argued.

“I did, but what I saw was—” he paused, hunting around for a way to put it into context for a human mind. Human languages didn't have the vocabulary to explain even the basics what he saw when he weighed a soul. “Imagine that a human soul, both its thoughts and the deeds that result from those thoughts, is a giant floor.” Is this stupid? thought Michael. It might be stupid. “When a human child is born, their floor is pure white. All light and goodness and hope and other sickeningly sweet things. As children grow up into adults, they start to make choices with the full knowledge of the consequences of those choices. If they make good, moral choices, as dictated by my Father, the floor stays white. If they make a bad choice, or harbor an ill will or dark, cruel thought, they spill black paint on the floor.”

Ella was maintaining eye contact with him. That had to be a good sign, right?

“Almost all humans spill paint on their floors. It happens. It’s normal. And that ill intent spreads through their souls as it becomes a part of who they are. I guess in the metaphor, humans walk all over the floor as they age. The piles of paint get tracked everywhere, and most humans will end up with a floor that is various shades of grey, with a few spots of untouched white, and some dark black spots that are where the sins initially… spilled.”

Ella was nodding, and Michael felt more confident. The metaphor wasn’t accurate by any stretch of the imagination, but if it helped her understand, then it was worth it.

“When I judge souls, I’m usually looking at how much paint there is overall, although there are some more complicated cases.”

“Am I a complicated case?” Ella’s eyes were wide, but she wasn't crying anymore, and her fears were no longer a thick surrounding fog.

“No, not from a judging standpoint. You’re a shoo-in for Heaven. The patterning of your soul is unusual, though. I don’t know what makes a soul look like yours, but I see one every few years.”

“What does it look like?” Ella filed the “shoo-in for Heaven” comment in the back of her head. She’d have a happy freak out about it later.

“You have a normal amount of, uh, paint. You’re on the light side, actually. But your floor isn’t patchy with grey, it’s just white with spots of deep black. It’s like the floor’s never been walked on. Or like you keep scraping the paint back into neat little puddles.”

Ella mulled this over. “So the parts of me that are light are really light, and the parts of me that are dark—”

“—are really dark.” Michael finished for her.

“What does that mean for me?” Ella felt her heart speed up. This was so absurd. How was she even having this conversation?

“I don’t know, Ella.” Michael shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“So I need to walk on my floor somehow? Smear my paint sins around? And then I’ll be normal, right?” her voice was climbing in pitch.

“Ella. Ella!” Michael tried to catch her eye again. “There’s nothing wrong with your soul. It’s fine, just different—”

“Then why does it feel wrong?” shouted Ella, her voice echoing across the lake.

As the echoes faded away, an owl hooted indignantly about the disturbance of its nightly schedule.

Ella took some deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Overwhelmed by the need to help this odd little human, Michael looked inside her again, taking the time to really consider what he found there. Ella’s breath caught again at the sight of his golden irises. This time the light stayed for several seconds before it faded.

“Okay, so I have some theories,” Michael said finally. “But you need to understand that they are just that—theories. This is more the doctor’s area of expertise than mine.”

“Just tell me, Michael.”

“I never spoke much to the other humans whose souls were divided like this, so I can’t compare your experience to theirs. I said earlier that almost all human souls have some darkness in them. Those who have none are mostly children or adults who don’t have the capability to understand the moral weight behind their choices. But there have been a very, very, very few souls who just… carried neither sin nor ill thoughts. I’m talking maybe a dozen over the entire course of humanity.”

Ella’s existential crisis was on hold as she listened with fascination. “Anyone I would have heard of?”

“No.” Michael shook his head. “You can’t become historically relevant if you have a completely clean slate. Besides, the humans with those untainted souls were… odd. Most of them died young, often in a very pointless or violent manner. They went through life in a contented manner but with little true joy. And, for people whose souls were ‘the best’ by my father’s standards, they never seemed to contribute much to their communities.”

“Any idea why?”

“Not a clue. As I said, this isn’t really my wheelhouse. But if humans with pitch black souls don’t do well in society, and adults with innocent souls are outliers as well, then it seems to me that the shades of grey must play a fundamental part of what makes humans, well, human. The gray may come from confronting yourself, your own deeds and your mindset, and perhaps accepting what you find. It’s—”

“—scar tissue,” breathed Ella.

Michael blinked. “Yes, I suppose so. If we’re changing the paint in the analogy to a wound, then yes. Keeping the light parts of yourself and the dark parts of yourself separate means that the contrast will just cause discomfort and pain. The unblemished skin is marred by an open wound, and it won’t get better until you allow scar tissue to form, bridging the two.”

“How do I do that?”

Michael shrugged on one shoulder. “Ask the doctor about this, I think. And maybe take some time to really look at what you’re so afraid of in yourself. Stare into the abyss, and let the abyss stare back at you.”

“Nietzsche?” asked Ella.

Michael nodded. “He was a weird dude, but he had some good ideas.”

“If I work on this, would you be willing to help? Give me, like, soul checkups?”

Michael’s mouth twitched up at the corners. “Any time.”

***

They lapsed into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts.

After several minutes, Michael spoke up hesitantly. “Hey Ella, is it okay if I ask you a, uh, human question?”

“Of course, Mikey,” said Ella. “You’ve helped me so much today. Whatever you want to know.”

"Mike" was bad enough. “Mikey” was anathema to everything Michael stood for, everything he was. But maybe it wasn’t so bad if Ella used it. But just her. In private.

“Why do humans eat spicy food?” Michael posed the question in such a serious manner that Ella couldn't contain a huff of laughter. Michael asked about spicy food as if it were a philosophical question about the nature of the universe, on par in seriousness with their previous topic.

“Because it’s great?” she replied flippantly.

“No, it’s not. It’s painful. Plants make capsaicin to tell you not to eat them, then you wackos eat them because of the pain. It makes no sense. It’s like that whole masochism nonsense.”

He looked so disgruntled that a giggle escaped her this time. “I’m sorry,” she said in response to the glare he sent her way. “I’m not laughing at you, it’s just… you see the world in such a different way, and it keeps catching me by surprise. But the appeal of masochism has to do with some funky neurological pathways and the presence of trust in a situation with an artificial power imbalance.” She stopped. Had she just said way too much?

“Sure, but what about the food? You don’t eat spicy food to show chili plants that you trust them!”

“Where on Earth is this coming from, Michael?”

“I tried one of the snacks that were set out on the table earlier. Some infernal little triangles. Even with my celestial pain tolerance it was unbearable!”

“’Infernal triangles’?” Ella repeated, wracking her brain to remember what had been on the snack table.

“They were made of corn, supposedly. ‘Doritis’, I think?”

Ella stared at him for several seconds, then started laughing.  She laughed until tears streamed down her face. She found herself bent forward in the tub, her hands around her midsection, gasping for breath. It took her several minutes to get herself back under control. When she finally was able to straighten back up and wipe the tears from her eyes, she found Michael sitting in the same place, but leaning as far away from her as he could. In order to maintain eye contact with her at the extreme angle, his chin was tucked down, nearly disappearing into his neck. This, combined with his wide and skittish eyes, made her break down again.

It felt like ages before she came back to herself.

Michael was staring at her still.

“’Doritos,’” she said finally, barely keeping herself from dissolving into fits of laughter again. “You were eating Doritos.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, and Michael slowly began to sit straight again.

“And I hate to break it to you, bud, but spicy Doritos aren’t considered very hot.”

“Then perhaps I was eating something else.”

“Nuh-uh,” Ella said. “You were definitely eating Doritos. Maybe if you’ve never eaten anything spicy before, the sensation just overwhelmed your tastebuds. If you try them again, it might not be as bad if you’re expecting it. Heck, maybe someday I’ll be able to make you some of my Aunt Rosalita’s chilaquiles.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

“Why would I eat—” Michael stopped, having fully registered what she'd said. “You’d want to spend more time with me?”

“Of course!” Ella reached over and playfully shoved his shoulder. It was like pushing a concrete  wall. “Can’t you tell I’ve been enjoying hanging out with you?”

Michael looked slightly troubled. “Ella, I haven’t always made… good choices. I’ve hurt people, including—”

“I know,” she cut him off. “I talked with Chloe.”

“And you don’t hate me?” Michael’s face was a picture of disbelief and hope.

“I mean, what you did was messed up, sure, but I’ve made bad decisions before, too. A lot of them. I’m drawn to problematic people and—” It was now Ella's turn to cut herself off.

Michael had just admitted that he had done bad things. Chloe had told her, and Michael had confirmed it. What if this… thing she was starting to feel for Michael was just her broken picker pointing herself in the wrong direction. Again. He had kidnapped Chloe, for God’s—uh, his Dad’s sake!

“Ella.” Michael noticed she was spiraling. She focused back on his face, on his deep, calm eyes. “I won’t pretend that I’m perfect, or even a good person, really. But I would never hurt you.”

And she believed him. Besides, maybe accepting Michael as he was was a step towards accepting her own darkness. He might not be perfect, but as long as she moved forwards with self-respect and her own wellbeing at the forefront of her mind, there was nothing wrong with being interested in someone a little… dangerous. That’s what she liked. That’s who she was.

She reached out towards his face slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop her if the touch was unwanted, and placed her palm against his cheek. Water dripped from her hand down his jaw and neck. Michael was frozen in place for a moment, then he closed his eyes and pressed his face against her hand.

Ella rubbed the pads of her fingers across his stubble. Michael hummed a little, then stopped abruptly, creases appearing between his brows. In one motion, he grabbed her wrist and moved backwards so he could look at her hand.

“Ella, I don’t mean to alarm you, but something’s wrong with your fingers. They seem to have… deflated.”

Ella pulled her other hand out of the water and looked at it, then snorted.

“Yeah, that happens to humans when you put us in the water for too long. We go all pruney. Don’t worry, it’ll go away once I’m dry for a while.” She sighed and dropped her hand back into the water. “I guess it’s probably time to get out. It must be almost 2 a.m.”

Michael nodded, although he looked reluctant to leave their cozy little bubble of space. Ella had Michael turn around again before she clambered out of the tub. A wooden chest next to the sauna was packed full of luxuriously fluffy towels, so she grabbed two, used one to dry herself, then put her clothes back on.

Michael looked out over the lake as she got dressed. He couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of her hand on his face and the gentleness with which her fingers stroked him. The memory, along with the knowledge that Ella was somewhere behind him, skin bared to the world, caused his earlier problem to very literally rear its head again. How did human men deal with this? He just wanted to spend time with Ella and maybe let her touch his cheek again. And maybe she’d let him touch her too.

The problem wasn’t going away.

“Okay, I’m done!” said Ella cheerfully. “Here’s a towel. I’ll turn around so you have some privacy.”

Even with this consideration, Michael's face was burning as he stepped out of the tub, his condition too obvious for comfort.

“I really enjoyed talking with you tonight, Michael,” said Ella, her gaze fixed on the far side of the lake. “Even though it got a bit heavy there for a minute, it was really nice.”

“Yeah,” said Michael, toweling himself off and throwing his clothes on as fast as he could. “I liked it too.”

“Would you want to do it again sometime?” asked Ella.

Michael paused. There was something in the way she said the question that made him feel like there was an extra meaning hidden in the words.

“Talk?” he asked.

Now it was Ella’s turn to pause and consider. With most human men, the implications behind her request were understood as a possibility, even if it was too subtle for them to be sure. But Michael wasn’t human, and clearly hadn’t spent a lot of time with humans. She decided that bluntness was the way to go here.

She cleared her throat, preparing to shoot her shot and hoping against hope it would be well-received.

“I don’t know how familiar you are with the concept of dating, or if that is even something you’d ever be interested in, but if it were, I’d like to do it. With you.” Her eyes went wide. “Go on a date, that is. So, yeah, we’d be talking, but we could do other stuff too. Like go for coffee, I mean!” You’re babbling; shut up! she thought, but her mouth was on a roll. “Going to the movies is another classic one, although that means we wouldn’t really be talking for a lot of it, except after. We could go to a restaurant, I guess—”

“Yes,” said Michael, interrupting Ella’s stream-of-consciousness speech.

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’d like to go on a date with you. You can turn around, by the way.”

Ella turned around. Michael looked… nervous?

“You don’t have to if you really don’t want to—”

“I want to,” said Michael simply. One side of his mouth pulled up in a wry but genuine smile. “I think I would enjoy it a lot.”

Ella grinned, and as they walked back to the house, she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. They walked in silence, but it was comfortable. Every now and then one would sneak a look sideways at the other, and a few times their gazes met, and each could see a sparkle of happiness in the other’s eyes.

When they made it to the lake house’s patio doors, they found the light on in the kitchen, but no one there. Someone must have gotten a glass of water and forgotten to flip the switch off on their way out.

Ella stopped and turned to face Michael, planning to say her goodnights outside where they could talk in low voices instead of whispers. She slid her hand down from his elbow to take his hand, then paused and turned back to the patio door. Her brain had subconsciously processed the sight of the living room, kitchen, and dining room, and brought something to her attention.

She squinted through the glass at the kitchen counter.

“Did someone… disassemble the coffee machine?”

Chapter Text

2 hours earlier

Chloe woke to the call of nature. She extricated herself from the long, tangled limbs of the Devil, and slipped out from between the covers. Lucifer grumbled a little, but didn’t wake.

When she stepped back out of the bathroom, she took a few moments to admire her boyfriend as he slept. As much as she liked his dressed-to-the-nines, neat-as-a-pin, suit-clad look, sleeping Lucifer held a special place in her heart. His hair was rumpled, his face was relaxed, and he seemed vulnerable in a way he never was while awake.

As she watched, he turned in his sleep and mumbled something indecipherable which ended with a contented sigh and an upwards twitch of his lips. It looked like he was having a good dream.

Reluctant to disturb the peacefully slumbering devil in that moment, Chloe decided to get a glass of water.

She was down the hall and halfway across the living room when she realized that there was someone else already in the kitchen. She squinted in the darkness. There was the unmistakable silhouette of a pair of wings, but the figure was shorter than any of the angelic brothers, but taller than Gabriel. Who was that?

She reached out to a nearby light switch and flicked it on.

“Oh!” exclaimed the figure, staring up at the lights.

It was an angel Chloe had never seen before. His appearance was younger than any of Lucifer’s siblings she already knew; he looked like a man in his early twenties. If Chloe had met him on the street, she would have guessed that he was of south Asian extraction, possibly Indian. He had a dark complexion and a heap of soft black curls piled on top of his head that reached down almost to his eyebrows. His eyes were dark hazel, and his mouth was tilted in a serene smile as he turned to face Chloe.

“The things you humans do with electricity are marvelous, aren’t they?” he said. “Lights during the night without fire, signals that travel for thousands of miles, I've even heard that some human men use electricity to remove their facial hair… it really is astounding.”

The angel, who was perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island, turned around again without waiting for a response. Chloe took the opportunity to admire his wings, which were feathered in hundreds of shades of russet brown, from a deep coffee color to some isolated plumes that almost looked orange.

“Take this device, for instance,” the angel continued. “I have been struggling to ascertain its purpose for some time now. It includes what I can only describe as small-scale plumbing, which suggests that its function involves a liquid.”

Chloe tore her eyes away from the wings and gasped when she finally noticed the state of the kitchen island. The fact it took her so long to spot proved how distracting the unexpected appearance of an angel was, because the entire surface was covered in what had once been the kitchen’s fancy (and no doubt expensive) coffee maker.

The casing had been disassembled, and its internal components had been removed, separated, and neatly categorized. Screws were sorted by size and lined up next to the tubing, which had been detached then carefully coiled. The remains of the electronics were at the far end of the island. Each wire had been removed from the circuit boards, straightened out, then lined up next to the others in a row, beginning with the longest piece and ending with the shortest.

“That’s a coffee maker,” Chloe said faintly, staring at the carnage. “Or, it was.”

“Coffee?” the angel turned back to her.

“It’s a drink. With caffeine in it.”

“Ah, a stimulant!”

Chloe took a moment and looked the angel over again. “You’re Raphael, aren’t you?”

His face broke into a grin.

“So my brothers have told you about me! And which human are you?”

“I’m Chloe. Chloe Decker. I’m Lucifer’s partner.”

“It’s nice to meet you, human Chloe Decker.” Raphael stretched his arm out in front of him. It took Chloe a moment to realize that he was trying to initiate a handshake, because he held his arm straight out in front of him, at the level of his shoulders.

“You can just call me Chloe.” She reached out and grasped his hand, pulling it down to a normal height while shaking it. “Uh, we weren’t expecting you until the morning.”

Raphael looked puzzled.

“I arrived at 12:01 a.m.,” he said. “I was under the impression that all times ante meridiem were considered ‘morning’.”

Chloe really wished that Lucifer or one of his siblings would wake up and join them in the kitchen, because she was way too tired to deal with this right now.

“Uh, yes, you’re not wrong. Usually humans sleep at night, though.”

“Oh. I forgot that.” Raphael looked disappointed at himself. Chloe realized that the greatest physical similarity between Lucifer and all of his siblings was that each of them had very expressive eyes, and when they looked sad, they were very hard to say ‘no’ to. Even Michael had tugged at her heartstrings when he and Lucifer were drunk in the hot tub a few weeks back.

“That’s okay, Raphael,” said Chloe with a sigh. “There’s still a room available, so you can get some sleep, too.”

“You want me to sleep when it’s not medically necessary?” Raphael looked as if she had just suggested he should cartwheel to Timbuktu.

“Uh, you don’t usually need to sleep?”

Raphael shook his head. “No, only when I’m injured or have been drained of my power. I’ve never slept ‘just because’, before.” A smile slowly spread across his face. “This will be fascinating!”

“Okay, great!” said Chloe, taking Raphael’s elbow and tugging him down the hall to the last empty room. She opened the door and flipped the light switch on. "The bathroom’s over there, in case you, uh, need it. You can open the window if you want to get some fresh air.” She wracked her brain, trying to think of the things that would be obvious to humans but were a recipe for disaster with angels. “Nothing in the bathroom is meant to be eaten like food. If you turn anything on, make sure you turn it off again. Maybe don’t take any more appliances apart.”

“I won’t!” Raphael promised, even though he was eyeing up the lamp on the bedside table.

He turned back to her.

“Thank you for your hospitality, human Chloe. I look forward to getting to know you this weekend.”

“You can just call me Chloe, Raphael. You know I’m human, and I know I’m human, so neither of us needs a reminder. Anyhow, sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morn— …when the sun has come up.”

“Sleep well, Chloe.” The angel waved at her as she shut the door behind her. Chloe stood still for a couple moments outside the room. Tomorrow is going to be interesting, she thought.

When she slipped back into bed, Lucifer stirred.

“Wh’r w’re you?” he mumbled.

“Your brother Raphael decided to show up early,” she responded in a low voice, trying not to wake him up any more than he already was.

“S’ the m’ddle’ve th’night.”

“He arrived at 12:01, because that’s when ‘morning’ starts.”

Lucifer smiled sleepily, then threw an arm around her and tugged her close.

“Same old Raph. G’night ‘tective.”

“Good night, Lucifer,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

As she settled into the pillows, she wondered if she was at all prepared for the arrival of six more angels in a few hours.

-----------

Ella was running through a maze of purple-lit rooms, trying to find an exit and afraid to look back, when she took a corner at speed and found herself in the middle of a hot wing eating contest. Michael was sitting next to her, urging her to keep eating so that they could win the Quidditch Cup. She suddenly remembered that she and Michael were in different Hogwarts houses, so they couldn’t both win the cup.

“No babe,” said Michael, reaching a hand across the table and placing it on hers. “I looked at your soul, and you’re actually in Slytherin.”

“No, I’m a Ravenclaw!” she said, clutching his hand. “I’m not evil, I can’t be in Slytherin.”

“Didn’t you hear? Slytherin isn’t evil anymore. The Hufflepuffs are evil now.”

And she did remember. Slytherin House had changed a lot when all its students had to start taking that cake decorating class. Surely it wouldn’t be so bad to be a Slytherin now, right? She liked baking.

Gabriel sidled up to the table.

“We should get out of here, guys. The trees are really upset that you’re eating spicy food.”

Ella stood and—

Ella’s eyes snapped open. What on Earth had that dream been?

On one hand, she was really happy that it hadn’t been the horrific nightmare that was her usual nighttime entertainment these days, but it was definitely weird.

She could tell where some of the elements came from, at least. All of the Quidditch references were because of that awesome game they’d played yesterday, but why did Michael think she was a Slytherin?

Michael! Ella sat bolt upright in bed, and the events of last night came flooding back—being naked in the hot tub with Michael, his eyes glowing as he looked over her soul, and finally her asking him on a date and him accepting.

She lay back in bed, feeling a balloon of happiness inflate in her chest. She was going to go on a date with a handsome angel who was her type—a bad boy—by all appearances but who was incredibly sweet on the inside.

She smiled even more while remembering of her conversation with Chloe and Dan the day before. Sure, Michael had made some really awful decisions, but he was working on a journey of self-improvement, and Ella loved nothing more than watching someone become their best self. Her heart squeezed at the memory of Chloe’s story of the twins up in the middle of the night, laughing over medieval paintings of angels.

Ella sat up again, this time leaning over the edge of the bed to pull her laptop out of the backpack on the floor. She’d had an idea after that conversation, and now was the time to put in some work.

-----------

Trixie awoke to the singing of birds coming through the window, and it took her a couple seconds to remember where she was. Oh, yes, the lake house!

She sat up with excitement. There was no way she was going to be able to go back to sleep now. A snore came from the other bed in her room. It sounded like her dad wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, but she tried to be quiet at she slid her slippers on. Maybe she’d be able to see some of the other angels arrive. Her mom had said they’d show up that morning.

As Trixie made her way down the hall to the living area, unfamiliar voices reached her ears.

“Brother, I believe the powdered goods are intended to be mixed with other foodstuffs before they are consumed,” came a woman’s voice.

“Really? Then why are they stored separately like this?” This voice was a man’s.

“Surely you’ve heard of bread, brother,” said a different man, who wasn’t keeping his voice as low as the other two.

“Of course I know what bread is, but what does it have to do with this?” came the reply.

Trixie rounded the corner and found three unfamiliar faces in the kitchen. The counter was covered in what looked like parts of the coffee maker, as well as ingredients that had been pulled from every cabinet in the kitchen. The cupboard doors had been left open, forlornly demonstrating how their contents had been pillaged.

“That’s flour,” Trixie said helpfully. “You use it to make bread.”

The bag had been split open along the side, and white powder was everywhere. Two of the angels—a tall, blonde woman and a broad-shouldered man with a red beard and hair—were on the far side of the kitchen island from the chaos. The last angel, young-looking with black hair, was at the epicenter, and his clothes and face were covered in flour as if the bag had burst when he was holding it.

The angel looked down, dipped a finger into the flour, and put it in his mouth thoughtfully, before grimacing.

“I have eaten bread. It tastes far better than this,” he said, a whine in his voice that Trixie had heard Lucifer use when he was trying to get her mom to agree to add 'caviar' to the shopping list.

“Yeah, you have to mix it with things, and then you put it in the oven to cook it, then it comes out as bread. Isn’t there bread in heaven?”

“Of course there is,” the angel scoffed. “But we don’t bake it, it just is!”

Trixie blinked, mulling the concept over. “But what if you want to bake? Some people do it as a hobby.”

“Oh yes, some humans perform labor as a source of entertainment. I had forgotten.”

The female angel broke in.

“Souls who wish to engage in such endeavors are given the resources to do so, child,” she said, smiling down at Trixie before rounding on her flour-dusted brother, “and I have invited you to watch The Great British Bake Off with me on several occasions. If you had taken me up on the offer, these concepts would be familiar to you.”

“I love that show!” exclaimed Trixie. “Me and Ella watch it whenever she babysits me.”

“Then I commend you for your taste, child,” said the angel.

Trixie held out a hand. “I’m Beatrice, but you can call me Trixie.”

The woman smiled and shook her hand. “I am Saraqael, but you can call me Sara. These are my brothers Raphael—” the flour-covered angel gave Trixie’s hand an overly-enthusiastic shake “—and this is Castiel.”

The red headed angel's hand engulfed her own.

“Oh, you’re the one who’s not supposed to sing, right?”

The angel froze, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. “It’s good to know that Lucifer hasn’t changed.” He quieted down a bit when Sara shushed him, but his voice seemed to carry even when it was low. “Yes, I’m almost certainly the one who isn’t supposed to sing.”

Trixie had already decided she liked these new angels. Lucifer was lucky to have such a fun family; it’s too bad he didn’t get along with them. Even Michael was nice, once you got through his grumpy exterior. Trixie had woken up in the middle of the night and heard him talking with Ella through the open window of her room.  She was planning to ask Ella if she like-liked him later.

“Could you perhaps demonstrate the manufacture of bread for me, Trixie?” asked Raphael. He was giving her a serious look, and Trixie liked how it made her feel important like a grownup, instead of just a kid.

“I don’t know how to do bread, but I could make waffles, if there’s a waffle iron. Dad taught me, and his recipe is the best.” She looked around the mess of the kitchen. “But maybe we should clean up first.”

Raphael started to clean the kitchen with Trixie’s help and direction. Sara and Castiel joined as well, but it soon became a too-many-cooks situation, and they returned to the stools behind the kitchen island and asked Trixie questions.

“And who exactly are you, to Lucifer?” asked Sara.

“He’s dating my mom, and they work together.” Trixie found the carton that Raphael had pulled the eggs from and showed that they needed to go in it instead of being returned to the refrigerator loose.

“Ah yes, the miracle. She has been the subject of much discussion amongst our family. She is here, yes?”

“Yeah, but she’s asleep. Everyone is, it’s still pretty early.”

Raphael stopped in the middle of putting lids back on jam jars to join the discussion. “I was wondering about that. I had been told that humans considered the morning, practically speaking, to be the time at which the sun arose. But the sun is up, and still they sleep? I tried to sleep last night even though I didn’t need to, and I found it an impossible task. I do not understand how humans spend so much time unconscious.”

“Did you try counting sheep? They say that helps people fall asleep,” suggested Trixie.

Raphael’s face fell. “I didn’t have any sheep. Was I supposed to bring my own?”

Before they could get sidetracked discussing the use of livestock as a sleep aid, Castiel broke in.

“Remember brother, humans don’t need to rise and set with the sun anymore, since they have created artificial light,” he said. “They may rise when they please.” He turned to Trixie. “That won’t be long from now, will it? It has been some time since I have spoken with my Earth-dwelling siblings, and I would like to meet our nephew.”

“Yes!” squealed Sara suddenly, any touch of aloofness in her manner disappearing, “I want to see the baby! He hasn’t gotten wings yet, has he?”

“Not yet, but I hope he will. They would be adorable!”

The first of the sleepers to arise was her dad, who woke Amenadiel as well. Apparently, Dan had managed to cajole his friend into joining for an early-morning fishing trip.

“Sara, Cassie, Raphael!” Amenadiel beamed when he saw his sister and brothers. “It is good to see you!”

As the angels began greeting one another, Dan sidled up to Trixie. It wasn’t lost on her that her dad was still nervous around angels he didn’t know. Grownups could be so silly sometimes.

“What happened to the coffee machine?” he asked. “We need some caffeine if we’re going fishing.”

“I think Raphael took it apart. He wanted to figure out how it worked.”

Trixie helped her dad find supplies to make coffee by hand, then he helped her set out the ingredients so she could make waffles for the new arrivals.

Trixie was determined that Raphael’s first interaction with humans would involve some of the best things humanity had to offer, and her dad’s waffles were at the top of that list with chocolate cake and karaoke.

-----------

It was already mid-morning by the time Ella made it out into the kitchen, her laptop clutched to her chest.

Lucifer was making several mugs of pour-over coffee.

“What happened to the coffee maker?” she asked.

“Ah, good morning, Miss Lopez!” Lucifer said, greeting her with a smile. “I’m afraid Raphael happened to the coffee maker. He arrived in the middle of the night and, well, he tends to let his curiosity get in the way of common sense, if you catch my drift. Most everyone has arrived, except for my sister Azrael whose work is keeping her away, and Jophiel, who has probably gotten lost.” Lucifer began to pick up the mugs of coffee, and Ella jumped in to help, tucking her laptop under her arm and looping her fingers though the handles of two mugs. “We have a breakfast buffet set up on the patio. Come and meet the others!”

They threaded their way through the living room to the open doors.

“So Lucifer, I had an idea for a little group activity, but I need either a projector or a large TV screen.”

“Ooh, and what exactly do you have planned?” Lucifer asked with a grin.

“It’s a surprise!”

“Okay, keep your secrets, then,” Lucifer said, stepping out into the sunshine. “How about after lunch, while everyone’s digesting?”

“Perfect! Oh wow!” Ella had caught sight of the crowd on the porch.

“Morning, Ella!” called Chloe. She looked frazzled, and was sitting between a tall angel with a red beard and hair and a young-looking, dark-complexioned angel. They had pulled several more tables together to accommodate the group. Trixie sat next to the younger angel, and Linda was at one end of the set-up between two imposing women, one blonde and one an armor-clad brunette. The blonde angel was bouncing Charlie on her knee and cooing at him, while Gabriel was sitting next to her, trying to get Charlie to hold onto her finger. The last two members sat at the table were an angel with brown hair and a jawline straight off the cover of one of her Aunt Rosalita’s bodice rippers, and—

“Good morning, everyone” Ella replied, but she directed the smile at Michael, who smiled almost shyly back.

“Ah, so this is Ella!” boomed the red-haired angel in a jovial voice. He stood and stretched a hand out towards her, not seeming to realize that he almost tipped the table over in the process. The speed with which Chloe grabbed it and stabilized it made Ella think that this wasn’t the first time it had happened.

“Hi!” Ella reached out and grabbed the angel’s hand. “Sorry I’m late to the party, I had a couple things I needed to get done—ooh, are those waffles?”

The spread was sumptuous, as Ella had come to expect of any meal when Lucifer was involved. Michael moved over a little, making room for her. She loaded a plate high with a waffle, fresh fruit, an egg, and a small dollop of yogurt, before sitting down. And if she sat close enough that her knee brushed against Michael’s, so what? They were all squeezed tight around the table.

“Don’t worry, Miss Lopez, our brother Jophiel has the honor of being the last guest to arrive, assuming he ever makes it,” Lucifer said, before clapping his hands together. “Now, I suppose some introductions are in order. The ginger lad over there is Castiel, but try not to hold it against him. On the Detective’s other side is Raphael, the reason for our limited coffee options this morning—

“I’m sure I can get it back together if you just let me have a go at it, Lu,” protested Raphael.

“Next to young Beatrice is Remiel, who seems to feel that we’re in imminent danger of finding ourselves on a pitched battlefield—” Lucifer continued undeterred. The brunette in the breastplate glared at her brother. Ella got the sense that there was no love lost between them.

“The doctor’s spawn is with his Aunt Saraqael, or Sara.” The blonde angel waved at Ella, holding her nephew closer to her. “If she gets any more attached, she’ll probably try to kidnap him. Do you think she’d succeed where you failed, Remi?”

Remiel stood, a spear materializing in her hand. Ella had no idea what Lucifer was talking about, but it was clear he was stirring up trouble just like she’d seen Ricardo do over every Thanksgiving dinner. She followed her first instinct and attempted a distraction.

“And who’s the beefcake next to Sara? I don’t remember buying tickets to the gun show, but I’m definitely not complaining,” she said, looking at the chisel-jawed angel, whose sleeveless tunic left his impressive biceps bare.

The distraction worked in that it diffused the tension between Lucifer and Remiel, who leaned her spear on a nearby chair and sat down again, but Lucifer couldn’t be stopped.

“Zadkiel? If you’re impressed by his arms, you’ll be glad to know that he’s constantly doing kegels to keep the stick up his arse, so he has very well-defined—"

“Where are Amenadiel and Dan?” Ella said, almost shouting to drown out Lucifer.

Sara paused her cooing at Charlie to answer her. “Amenadiel and the handsome human have gone on a boat with the aim of catching fish, even though we are in no need of extra provisions.”

Ella raised herself up a little to look over the patio railing, and she could barely spot two figures in a boat near the far side of the lake.

“Handsome? Handsome? Dear sister, I’m disappointed in you; I thought you had far better taste in men,” said Lucifer, apparently unable to make a single remark that wasn’t antagonistic.

Ella tried to think of something else to say to steer the conversation away from an argument, but before she could, Raphael piped up in a calm voice, “Dan is the one who had intercourse with our mother, yes?”

The entire table fell dead silent. The only sounds were the breeze rustling the leaves in the surrounding trees, birds singing, water lapping at the lakeshore, and the steady scrape scrape scrape of Raphael’s knife dragging butter across a piece of toast. He seemed completely unaware that all eyes were on him.

“Uh, Raphael,” said Chloe, breaking the silence at last.

“Mm?” hummed the angel, looking up from his toast.

“Trixie is a child, and generally we don’t discuss topics of that nature in front of children,” Chloe explained. Really, this wasn’t the biggest reason why Raphael’s comment had been misguided, but she felt like it wasn’t her responsibility to explain the other reasons.

“I’m not a baby, mom,” said Trixie, giving an exaggerated eyeroll, before leaning towards Raphael and saying in a stage whisper, “They think I don’t know about adult stuff, but I do. I think it makes them feel better to act like I don’t.”

“So they deceive themselves as a means of improving their mental well-being?” Raphael asked.

“Oh yeah, grown-ups do it all the time,” Trixie replied, and began listing examples from her recent life. The tension around the table began to ease, and the angels and humans alike resumed eating.

Ella leaned close to Michael.

“Any chance you could explain what on Earth he meant about Dan and your mom?” she whispered.

He leaned so he could murmur into her ear.

“Long story—I’ll get you caught up later, or you could ask Gabriel.”

A slight shiver ran up Ella’s spine at the feeling of Michael’s breath on her neck.

The conversation around the table was lively again by the time that they were interrupted by a flutter of wings, and another angel dropped down onto the patio.

“Luce, bro, this place is sick!” the angel exclaimed. He was similar in complexion and dress to Zadkiel but had none of the Angel of Righteousness’ poise. Ella was instantly reminded of multiple men she’d met at music festivals in her twenties.

“Jophiel, you found the place!” Lucifer said, standing and clasping his brother’s hand.

“Yeah, bro, I was looking all over for it, then realized that, duh, I was on the wrong coast. It’s so hard to tell which way’s which on Earth, you know?” Jophiel pulled a chair up between Remiel and Linda, who scrambled to make room for him, and flopped down on it.

“Oh dear,” said Lucifer gravely, returning to his seat. “Maybe we should have put a giant ball of burning gas in the sky that could appear from one of the directions at the beginning of the day and disappear in a different direction at the end.”

“That’s a great idea! Why didn’t you guys think of that earlier?” Jophiel began to fill his plate with a small mountain of eggs.

Ella was taking a gulp of orange juice when Michael leaned over and gravely whispered in her ear, “Jophiel is the Angel of Wisdom.”

“Oh dear, Miss Lopez, are you alright?” asked Lucifer as Ella coughed and sputtered. Michael was patting her on the back to help her get the liquid out of her lungs, but the burning in her nose from where the juice had come out was far worse.

“Raphael, could you…?” asked Michael.

Ella felt a touch on the back of her hand, and the coughing and burning immediately subsided. Ella was barely able to make out Raphael’s face through her tears and saw that he had placed his fingers on her hand.

Oh right, thought Ella, the healer.

She mouthed “thank you” at the angel, who returned to his seat.

By now, everyone at the table except for Jophiel and Ella had finished eating. In the distance, Dan and Amenadiel’s voices were steadily growing closer.

“Oh, bro, I almost forgot,” Jophiel said suddenly, talking to Lucifer around a mouth full of egg. “I ran into Rae Rae on the way here, and she said she should be able to make it in the afternoon for a couple hours.”

Ella’s forked dropped to her plate with a clatter, and everyone’s eyes turned to her.

“Rae Rae?” she repeated dumbly.

“Uh, yeah, our sister Azrael,” said Jophiel, his brow furrowed.

“Ah, yes,” came Lucifer’s voice to her left. “I did tell her she needed to come clean to you before this weekend, and by your reaction, I have to assume she didn't. I am very sorry Miss Lopez, I’m sure it must be quite a shock.”

Ella wanted to shout at Lucifer. She wanted to beat Rae-Rae with her shoe. She wanted to flip the table and send the remains of the breakfast flying. At most points in her life, that is exactly what she would have done, but the past months had stretched her so very thin, and when something inside her snapped, the outpouring wasn’t anger, but tears. Turning her face from the table to hide it from humans and angels alike, she jumped to her feet and ran back through the open doors of the house.

Dan and Amenadiel had made their way up from the dock just in time to see the outburst. Dan fixed a glare on the assembled angels. “What did you lot do now?”

Chapter Text

The small group that had gathered outside of Ella’s locked door had dwindled in size, partially due to Chloe’s insistence when it became clear that there were far more people present than were necessary. Amenadiel convinced Gabriel to help with the breakfast clean-up, and Linda handed Charlie off to Saraqael, with only a little hesitation. Dan loudly announced that he was going for a hike and was able to get Trixie, Amenadiel, Remiel, and Raphael to join, for which Chloe was immensely grateful. Chloe took a few minutes to interrogate Lucifer about what exactly the situation with Azrael and Ella was, but realized that he wouldn’t be of much more use when he declared, “But surely Miss Lopez should be happy now that she knows her friend is nothing so outlandish as a ghost!”

Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose, screwed her eyes shut, then counted to ten before opening them.

“Lucifer, babe,” she began, putting a hand on his face to direct his eyes to hers, “I know you want the best for Ella, and I love you so much for it, but this situation isn’t really your forte.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” said Lucifer, his voice full of wonder.

“Yeah,” said Chloe, confused. “Surely you’ve realized you don’t have much experience comforting people, right?” Her mind then replayed her previous comment in her head, and she realized what had amazed Lucifer so much. “Oh.”

She stepped closer to him and stroked his cheek, all the while maintaining eye contact so he would see the truth there. “Yes, Lucifer, I love you. For all the wonderful things you do, as well as the things that drive me crazy. I love you for you.”

His eyes were misting, and he leaned down to kiss her when—

“Can you two please be sickeningly sweet on your own time?” Michael said, his face twisted in a grimace.

“Of course,” Chloe said, dropping her hand from Lucifer’s face and blushing. “Lucifer, could you make sure the rest of your siblings give us some space? I’ll call you if I need you.”

Lucifer looked like he wanted to protest, but he nodded reluctantly.

“Come along, brother. Between the two of us, we might be able to keep them from doing anything colossally stupid for a whole ten minutes.”

Michael opened his mouth to reply when Chloe said, “Actually, I was thinking that Michael’s fear mojo might help us get a better understanding of what Ella’s feeling. Right Linda?”

She said the last two words to the therapist with an undertone that said agree now, and I’ll explain later.

“Oh, uh, yes. Michael should be able to help us better pinpoint which stressors are contributing to her emotional state, and how," said Linda, even as she tried figure out why Chloe wanted the surly angel to stay.

Lucifer grumbled, but eventually left them alone.

Ella’s quiet sobbing could be heard on the other side of the door.

“Chloe, why is Michael here?” asked Linda, when Lucifer was out of earshot. “No offense, Michael.”

“A little taken,” he replied. “But I was wondering the same thing.”

Chloe had crossed her arms and was looking the angel up and down in a way that made him feel far shorter than his imposing height.

“Trixie opened her window last night to let in some fresh air. She heard the two of you talking down by the sauna.”

“Oh.” Michael’s ears went red, and he looked down at the floor.

“Him and Ella?” asked Linda.

“Mm-hmm,” Chloe hummed in confirmation, her stare never leaving the angel in front of her. “Okay, Michael. You want to prove you’re being a better pers— angel? Consider this a test.”

Michael nodded, feeling thoroughly chastised.

The doctor was looking back and forth between him and the closed door, mulling over the image of him and Ella together, before she made an expression that said, I guess I can see it, and turned to him as well.

“I’m not going to bother threatening you, because I think you know the world of hurt you’ll be in if anything bad happens to Ella, right?”

Michael nodded, head still down. When had these humans begun to have such influence on his life?

“Okay,” the doctor continued, “would I be correct in saying you don’t have much experience comforting humans either?”

Michael nodded again.

“Okay, upset humans 101,” Linda said, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Ella needed some time alone. We’ve given her a bit, and now we’re going to check in and see if she’s ready for someone to come in and sit with her.” Michael was nodding at each point, eyes wide, trying to absorb it all. “If she doesn’t, we’ll leave her be for a while more, but we’ll also offer her some water and tissues. When she does let someone in, that person will probably sit with her for a while, without saying anything. They need to let her guide the discussion. Asking questions is fine, but the love of G— someone, don’t disagree with anything she’s said.”

Michael blinked. “But surely if she’s wrong about something, then she’ll feel better if those mistaken beliefs are corrected.”

If looks could kill, Chloe’s expression would have smote him on the spot, as surely as one of his Father’s lightning bolts.

Linda took a softer tone. “There will be time later for getting new information to her, but supporting her emotionally comes first. She’s feeling very fragile right now, so we want to avoid anything destabilizing.”

“Capiche?” asked the detective, her eyes still narrowed.

“I understand,” Michael said, nodding.

Internally, he was panicking. Every individual instruction the doctor had given was straightforward, but taken as a whole they were overwhelming. And if he made a mistake and made Ella more unhappy… He glanced back towards the open space of the living room. If he was just going to make things worse by talking with Ella, then surely it would be best if he made himself scarce for a few hours.

Chloe saw his eyes darting towards freedom. Her first instinct was to call him out for cowardice, but the rational part of her brain remembered all the times Lucifer had fled in fear, thinking his absence would be welcomed. Her gaze softened, and she put a hand on Michael’s elbow. The angel’s eyes snapped to hers.

“Ella likes you,” she said. “If she wants someone around, she will feel better if you are there.”

“What if I mess it all up? I only met her yesterday, and I’ll ruin everything in less than twenty-four hours.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

The doctor put a hand on his other arm. “Ella knows this is new for you. She doesn’t need or want you to be perfect. That’s not what anyone needs. She just wants you to be there for her. That’s all anyone wants.”

Michael swallowed down his fears and nodded his thanks at the two women.

Linda stepped up to the door and knocked.

“Ella? How are you doing in there?”

“Go away!” came a muffled shout from inside. Ella’s voice was hoarse.

“Okay, we’ll give you space,” the doctor said through the door, unbothered by the harsh response. “Can we get you anything in the meantime? Tissues? Something to drink?”

There was a pause.

“Some water would be nice.”

“Okay, we’ll get you some.” The doctor turned around, a small smile on her lips.

Michael, in a desperate need to feel useful, went to the ever-full snack table and grabbed a bottled water from a cooler. He was about to turn back when something else caught his eye.

When he made it back to the women, Chloe eyed his cargo in surprise. “Doritos?”

Michael just nodded.

Chloe met Linda’s eyes, but the doctor just shrugged.

“Ella?” she called, knocking on the door again. “I have some water here. I’m going to leave it outside the door, then we’ll be back to check on you later, okay?”

There was no response, but the doctor set the water and the chips by the door, then motioned for the others to go back down the hall. Michael hesitated for a second. A little part of him was insisting that if he could just hold Ella—wrap his harms around her and tuck her head under his chin—everything would get better. But he deferred to the doctor’s judgement and left for the living room.

They were most of the way down the hall when they heard the door open, a pause, then a watery laugh. “Doritos?”

“Michael thought they might help,” the doctor said.

There was a pause. Ella was staying in the room, out of their eyeline.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you to go away,” came Ella’s voice again.

“That’s okay, we know you’re upset,” the doctor replied. “Do you still want to be left alone?”

There was another pause, then the top of Ella’s head poked around the doorframe. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Michael thought she was still incredibly pretty.

“Could Michael come?” she asked hesitantly.

Michael froze on the spot. He wanted to go to her, of course, but surely the doctor or the detective would be a better option, right?

“Michael,” the doctor’s voice drew him out of his thoughts. She gave him a reassuring look. “She wants you there as you are. Imperfect. Just follow her lead, let her talk, and—”

“—don’t disagree with her,” he finished.

“Exactly. You’ve got this.” The doctor gave him a reassuring slap on his shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to reach. Michael started on the way to the door, equal parts eager and terrified.

“You think this is a good idea?” Chloe muttered when he was out of earshot.

“I think…” Linda was thoughtful for a few moments. “I think they could be very good for one another if this goes well.”

-----------

Michael scooped the water and chips up from where they had been left in front of the door, then went into the room. It was dark, and Ella was nowhere to be seen.

“Ella?” he called softly, shutting the door again behind him.

“Here,” came a sniffly voice from beyond the other side of the bed.

Michael stepped around and found her on the floor with her back against the mattress, hugging her legs against her chest. She was surrounded by wadded-up tissues.

Okay, follow her lead, thought Michael to himself.

“May I join you?”

Ella said nothing but patted the floor next to her.

Michael sat, stretching his legs in front of himself. He was debating whether he should put an arm around her when Ella leaned and put her head on his shoulder. He shifted a little so he could stretch his arm behind her waist and place his hand on her side. She snuggled up closer to him in response.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, broken only by an occasional sniff from Ella. Michael gently probed Ella’s exposed emotions, but whatever she was feeling, it wasn’t fear.

Eventually, Ella broke the silence.

“When I was nine, I was in a really bad car accident. I almost died. The EMTs said—” she stopped abruptly before letting out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “Azrael! The Angel of Death! I really did almost die!” Her shoulders began shaking as she dissolved into tears again.

Michael turned towards her so that he could use his other hand to pull her into his chest. He tucked her head under his chin and rubbed gentle circles on her back. As her breathing began to even out again, he started humming a lullaby he remembered Sam singing when they were younger. Ella relaxed further into his arms as the tune washed over her.

Michael was starting to worry that Ella had fallen asleep when she started her story again.

“There was someone else there at the accident, another girl. I remember watching her through the broken windows of the car while the firefighters worked to pull me out. They had to use the jaws of life, and it was so loud and scary, but the girl started shouting questions to me, so I had something else to focus on. I blacked out then, I think. I remember being in an ambulance, and she was still there.”

Lucifer had said that Azrael had met Ella when there was a false alarm. It must have been so strange from a young human’s perspective.

“I was in the hospital for a long time, and she’d appear every now and again. It took a while before I realized that no one else could see her, and when I asked her, she said she was a ghost.”

Michael suppressed a snort. That sounded exactly like the type of thing that Azrael would say.

“And it was okay for a while after that. I was a little old to have an imaginary friend, but I think my parents just thought it was some sort of coping mechanism, and they were okay with it as long as it meant I was getting better. But she kept coming back, and I kept talking about her without realizing that I was getting too old for it to be okay.” Ella paused. “Do you have that water?”

Michael untangled from her enough that he could reach behind himself and offer Ella the water. When she sat up straight to drink, he missed her warmth immediately.

After several sips, Ella recapped the bottle and leaned back into Michael. He eagerly wrapped her in his arms again, and even placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“I was twelve, the first time I ended up in a psychiatric ward.”

Michael’s stomach twisted in a way it never had before when a human told him their story. And he had heard a lot of stories.

“They tried a bunch of different medications. There are a couple years I don’t remember much of. I realized that everything got better when I pretended that I didn’t see her anymore. My family stopped acting ashamed of me, I made friends at school, and all I had to do was pretend I didn’t see her. Then one day—” Ella stopped again.

She unwrapped her arms from her legs, then wrapped them around Michael’s torso instead, squeezing tight. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, it’s wonderf—fine. It’s fine. You can hold tight if you want; I’m hard to break.”

Ella linked her wrists behind him and dug her face into his chest.

“One day, my Abuelita saw me talking to her,” Ella continued, slightly muffled. “And the next thing I knew, I was tied to a bed and some priests were performing an exorcism.”

A growl rose in Michael’s throat before he could stop it, and Ella froze.

She released him, and Michael started to worry that he had frightened her when she wrapped her arms behind his neck instead and pulled herself up onto his lap, as if she could keep the bad memories at bay by pressing herself as close to him as possible.

“I try not to think about it too much. I remember my wrists and ankles being tied, and them praying over me…” she was now speaking into the crook of Michael’s neck. “It took almost a year before I could attend mass without panicking. It took even longer before I could forgive Abuelita. I know she was just worried about me.”

“She shouldn’t have done it,” Michael spat venomously.

“I know, I know,” Ella said. “It messed me up for a long time. I’m still messed up from it, I think. And now, knowing that Rae Rae wasn’t even actually a ghost? I mean, things might not have gone down much better if I kept saying I was talking to an invisible angel, but maybe they wouldn’t have done the exorcism, at least. Maybe the kids at school would have just thought I was super religious, instead of telling me that I was creepy and weird.”

Michael had an overwhelming urge to tell her how wrong those kids were, and make sure she knew that she was wonderful and perfect just the way she was. But the doctor’s recommendations lingered in her mind; this was Ella’s moment, and he needed to follow her lead.

“I’m sorry,” he said instead. “None of that should have happened to you.”

Ella nodded into his shirt, and they sat in silence for a while. Ella started to calm down, and she took occasional sips from the water bottle.

“Why did she do it? I thought she was my friend,” she said eventually.

“She is your friend, she just—” Michael cut himself off. Crap, he thought. I’m not supposed to disagree.

“Then why would she do something that hurts me like that?” asked Ella.

“Forget I said anything.”

Ella pulled back a little so she could look Michael in the face. “What were you going to say?”

“Uh,” Michael fumbled, before just deciding that bald honesty was the best course. “The doctor said that I shouldn’t contradict you. Apparently, that isn’t a good way to comfort a human.”

The corners of Ella’s lips tightened a little, as if she were repressing the smallest of smiles.

“It’s really sweet that you’re trying to do what’s best for me, but I think it would help me if I had an explanation. Maybe then I might be able to forgive her someday.”

“Well,” Michael started, unsure what he was going to say. “There are a couple of factors that might have led her to make the decisions she did. One thing it might help you to know is the whole idea of moral quandaries is… foreign to most of my siblings. We don’t have free will. We do what our father asks of us, and the idea of having to make a difficult decision of right versus wrong make us very uncomfortable, because usually our path is clear to us. We do what we’ve always done, and those who stray… well, Lucifer reminded us why we don’t.”

“But what she did was wrong!” exclaimed Ella, and Michael was horrified to see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes again. “I went through so much horrible stuff because of her! I thought I was crazy.”

Michael squirmed under her look. He had gone against the doctor's advice, and now she was getting uncomfortable.

Ella, fortunately, was becoming adept at reading him. She sighed.

“I’m not arguing with you, and you’re not the one making me upset. It’s just upsetting in general, but I need to work through these emotions. From Rae Rae’s perspective—an angel’s perspective—is what she did okay?”

Michael tried to relax. He just wanted this adorable tiny human to be happy again. Was that too much to ask?

“What Azrael risked with you was breaking the prohibition on mixing the divine with humanity. It seems like Father has become more relaxed about it recently, but generally we find the idea of revealing ourselves to be… anathema.”

Ella was focused on what Michael was saying, with a wrinkle of thought appearing between her eyebrows. Michael had the nonsensical urge to smooth it out with his thumb.

“So when I saw her the first time, that was her screwing up?”

“Oh yeah. You have no idea. There must have been a very strong impetus for her, because that is not a line she would have crossed lightly.”

“But she did! So why didn’t she just tell me the truth, if she’d already broken the rules when we first met?”

Michael bit his lip, trying to think of a way to explain it.

“It’s like if you broke protocol at work. Not by mistake, more as a poor decision. You backdated a chain of custody on some evidence, or something like that.”

“I would never!” said Ella, aghast.

“Not usually, but for some reason you did. Maybe you were motivated by external circumstances, maybe it seemed to be genuinely the right decision at the time. I don’t know why Rae Rae showed herself to you, so I can’t speculate.”

“But the comparison doesn’t work! Rae Rae just appeared to me. Deliberately mishandling evidence like that is… immoral.”

“And by angelic standards, unnecessarily revealing oneself to a human is immoral. It’s not what Dad wants, it’s not what we’re supposed to do, it’s something we feel ashamed about.”

“It’s that bad?” said Ella, her eyes going wide.

“Yeah,” Michael said with a shrug. “As I said, anathema.”

“But she kept coming back to visit!”

“So whatever drove her to reveal herself to you must have continued,” Michael shrugged. “I can pretty much guarantee she felt guilty every time. She may even have done that very human thing where she swore that each time was the last.”

“Wow, Rae Rae…” said Ella. She wanted to find out what drew the angel to her.

“For people without much of a moral compass, doing one wrong thing can act as a gateway drug. But you’re not like that, so breaking a rule would make you even more conscious of the morality of your other actions, am I right?” Michael asked, and Ella nodded vigorously in reply. “Azrael was already indulging in a shameful, immoral act by spending time with you. Were she to actually reveal her divine nature to you, she would be ringing a bell that could not be unrung and putting you at risk by association. By not telling you what she was, she didn’t make you complicit in her personal failings, and she also drew a line in the sand for herself.”

Ella chewed her lip, mulling this information over.

“I ended up in a mental hospital, Michael.”

The angel winced.

“Yeah, I won’t defend Azrael or say that she made the right decision. What happened to you was awful, and if I could find a way to go back in time and change things so that you hadn’t suffered because of my family, I would do so in a heartbeat.”

Ella wrapped her arms around Michael and pressed her face against his chest again, breathing in his smell, which reminded her of her favorite used book shop in Detroit.

Michael leaned down, inhaled the smell of Ella’s hair, and allowed himself to think about how nicely she fit on his lap.

“Why do you think she revealed herself to me? And why did she keep coming back, if it was considered such a bad thing?” she asked finally.

“No idea,” Michael hummed into her hair.

“I know,” said Ella, pulling back to face him again. Michael wished she would stay tucked up against his chest. “But take a guess.”

Michael shrugged. “I mean, I would guess it's because you’re special.”

“Special how? I’m just a random-ass scientist from Detroit.”

“Yeah, but you’re so bright, despite the dark spots that life has left on your soul. You’re kind, generous, you forgive others for their failings—which is something even the best humans struggle with—and you make me—” he cut off, then ducked his head and blushed. “You make me want to be a better angel.”

Ella was silent for a while, and Michael worried that he’d said something wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes and see what his little speech had done.

He felt a couple fingers below his chin, forcing his face up to meet hers. Ella’s eyes were still red from crying, but there was a light in them now that looked like… determination? The hand slid from beneath his chin up over his cheek, rasping against the stubble along his jaw. It continued on its path, moving to the back of his head and digging into his hair. At the same time, Ella’s face moved towards his.

He let her lead, in part because he knew she was still fragile, and in part because the only kisses in which he had partaken so far were quick ones with Chloe and Mazikeen when he was impersonating Lucifer, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.

Ella’s lips pushed against his, and his eyes fluttered closed at the pressure. She was so soft against his mouth and began moving in a delightful way that he tried to imitate. It was certainly chaste by Sam’s standards, but it was easily one of the most wonderful things he’d experienced.

Ella’s other hand came up to Michael’s shoulder, and she used it to brace herself and move her legs so that she was now straddling his thighs. Her other hand dug into his hair, and suddenly the kisses were quicker and deeper. Michael moved his hands to her sides, then slid them down until he was gripping her hips. He hoped she didn’t move forward, because then she’d feel just how she was affecting him. Or maybe I do want her to move forward, he thought. He was debating whether to pull Ella closer, when—

“Ella? Michael?” Linda called through the door with a gentle knock. “How are you two doing in there?”

Ella pulled away from him with reluctance, and her eyes shone with something that wasn’t tears.

“I’m doing a lot better, Linda,” she called in response.

“Would it be okay if I came in?”

Ella met Michael’s eyes, and he could see that she wanted to stay alone with him in this room, just as much as he wanted to stay alone with her. But now wasn’t the time.

She leaned forward and gave him one more peck on the lips and whispered, “Thank you,” against his mouth before climbing off his lap and standing.

“Yeah, come on in, Linda.”

The therapist poked her head in the door, then came around it, closely followed by Chloe.

“How are you feeling, chica?” Linda asked.

“Not fantastic,” Ella replied, “but Michael did help a lot.”

She sent a smile towards the angel who was just getting to his feet.

The look Chloe sent him suggested that he had passed her test, and if she noticed his obvious arousal, she kept it to herself.

“Okay, I should give you a heads up then,” said Chloe. “Lucifer prayed to Azrael to get her over here, and he is absolutely tearing into her.”

“Would you be comfortable seeing her?” Linda asked Ella. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Ella sighed, then looked to her side and met Michael’s eyes.

“Yeah, I should probably go talk to her.”

She started for the door, then doubled back to grab the bag of Doritos, popping one into her mouth with a wink towards Michael.

Chapter Text

Chloe led Ella and Michael around to the side of the house. Linda split off to check on Charlie, who was napping. Castiel, Gabriel and Saraqael had found the paddle boat and were getting a kick out of foot-powered aquatic locomotion on the far side of the lake. The hiking group hadn’t returned yet, and Zadkiel and Jophiel were nowhere to be seen. Chloe heard Lucifer long before he came into view.

“I gave you weeks, Azrael! You could have popped in at any time. It would have taken about ten seconds: ‘Hi, I’m actually the Angel of Death. What are you bringing to the potluck?’ How is that difficult?” he shouted.

“Oh yeah, that’s why you told Chloe the truth the first chance you got, right?” the Angel of Death was giving as good as she got.

“I did! I always do! I tell everyone that I’m the Devil!”

“And you made sure she believed it, right? No, you didn't, because even you don’t casually go throwing actual divinity in peoples’ faces!”

Chloe rounded the corner, followed by Michael and Ella, and she found the tiny angel staring down the Devil, whose eyes were glowing red with hellfire. Flames were also starting to lick through his skin, and Chloe knew she needed to intervene, and fast. She opened her mouth, but Michael stepped around her before she could say anything.

“Azrael. Sam. Perhaps we should let Ella speak her piece.”

Both of his siblings snapped their jaws shut and turned to look at Ella who, to her credit, met the fiery irises of the Devil, which dimmed to brown near-instantly.

Azrael stepped forward.

“Ella, I am so, so sorry.” She was wringing her hands in front of herself. “There were so many times when I wanted to tell you. When I almost did tell you. I really should have; it’s just, it was unthinkable at the beginning, but then by the time I thought maybe I should consider it, I was already so deep in the lie—”

“I know, Rae Rae,” said Ella. She looked more tired than angry. “Look, I’m super pissed at you, and I will be for a while, but you’re my friend. Can we just, ya’ know, talk for a bit?”

“Miss Lopez, she betrayed your trust!” Lucifer said, indignant on his friend’s behalf.

“Yeah, I know, and I’m super pissed about it, as I said,” said Ella. “But I talked some things out with Michael, and he helped give me perspective on this whole thing. Also, I want us all to have a good weekend, so I’m trying to get to a point where I can just be okay enough to get through today and tomorrow.”

Azrael nodded, blinking back tears.

“Whatever you need, Lopez.”

“Okay, let’s go for a walk,” said Ella. She started towards one of the lake-side trails when she paused, gave her friend a once-over, then hesitantly reached out and poked her with a finger. Seemingly satisfied by this result, she hooked her hand under the angel’s elbow and pulled her away from the group. Chloe heard Azrael hiss, “You talked with Michael?” in a low voice to her friend, as the two disappeared into the surrounding pines.

Lucifer had zeroed in on the same fact. “Yes, brother. She talked with you?”

“I can be a good listener,” said Michael with feigned ease.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“If you hurt so much as one hair on that precious soul’s head—”

“Yes, yes, you’ll use my intestines for hosiery. I’ve already gotten the threatening speech several times, from several different people. Not that I would ever hurt her.”

Lucifer glared for a second more before he relaxed. He looked tired as well, and Chloe realized the argument with Azrael must have been emotionally draining.

“Just… give her your best, brother. She deserves no less,” he said with a sigh. Michael looked Lucifer square in the face before giving a quick nod. Perhaps Chloe was reading too far into it, but she thought the gesture conveyed far more than a simple affirmative.

Chloe had just turned to head back to the patio, when Zadkiel skidded around the corner.

“There you guys are! Luci, Mike, we might have a problem.”

-----------

Chloe panicked when she saw the winged body floating face down in the hot tub. She ran to the edge and began attempting to heft the angel out of the jacuzzi, or at least flip him face up so he could breathe.

“He can’t drown, Detective, remember?” said Lucifer, walking up beside her, completely unbothered by a sight not unlike several gruesome crime scenes they had worked. “What in Dad’s name happened to him, brother?”

Wordlessly, Zadkiel walked around to the far side of the hot tub and pulled a half-empty decanter out from where it had been lodged beneath one of Jophiel’s deep brown wings. Chloe gulped as she eyed the dripping red ribbon around its neck; it was one of the twins' bottles of angelic liquor.

“How could you let him drink that much?” asked Lucifer accusingly.

Zadkiel rolled his eyes in response.

“I’m not his mother, Lucifer. I told him that you two made this up special, and that he should be careful with it.”

Lucifer groaned.

“Fine, just help me get him out.”

It took some maneuvering to get Jophiel out of the hot tub. His wings were already awkward due to size and floppiness, and they had also absorbed enough water to have become quite heavy. Finally, Michael and Lucifer lowered their brother’s torso to the pier, while Zadkiel straightened from where he had just dropped Jophiel’s feet.

“What do we do now?” asked the Angel of Righteousness.

He and Michael turned to look at Chloe, expecting the human to be the expert on the effects of alcohol. Chloe blinked, then turned the exact same stare on Lucifer, who had far more experience caring for drunk humans than she did.

“Well, he can’t die of alcohol poisoning, but he’s in for a wicked hangover," he said with a shrug.

Now it was Chloe’s turn to roll her eyes. The morning after the twins had tested their celestial-strength liquor, each had complained of a debilitating headache, stomachache, and light sensitivity. Michael had complained the entire time as he cleaned up the mess they had left on the balcony, and he continued complaining as he went on a quick mid-morning flight above the city. Lucifer had complained while making breakfast and playing a few favorite sonatas on the piano. When Chloe announced that she was going to take a shower, Lucifer forgot about his “infernal hangover” in his rush to join her. For a guy who she’d once seen walk off impalement by pool cue, he had a shockingly low tolerance for the discomfort of illness.

She returned from her thoughts just in time to hear Lucifer suggest that he and Michael could make celestial-strength coffee.

“Actually, we should try that regardless. I would love to have a stimulant that lasted more than a few seconds,” he added.

At this moment, Jophiel spit a stream of water straight upwards, briefly becoming the world’s worst angelic water feature. He took a deep breath, unbothered by any water that was still in his lungs, and he started to sing.

It was the strangest bad singing Chloe had ever heard, because every note of the enthusiastic ditty was skillfully executed. Clearly Jophiel could sing as well as the rest of the family, but at the moment, every skill was being applied in the wrong place. He would add vibrato to occasional short syllables, while ornamenting the long notes by suddenly changing the volume halfway through. Chloe was fifteen years removed from what little musical training she had, but she was pretty sure he was switching between a major and minor key every other line. At one point he slowed down during a minor key part, and the jovial song became a funeral dirge for a few seconds, before he sped up and attempted to start clapping. He would have been perfectly on-beat if his hands didn’t keep missing one another.

“Is he singing in Aramaic?” asked Zadkiel, raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony.

Lucifer nodded, a finger stuffed in each ear. “It’s a drinking song I certainly never expected to hear again. I always liked this one—it’s incredibly rude, and it’ll get stuck in your head for days.”

“How is it rude?” asked Michael, his voice raised as well. “It sounds like it’s just about buying a bunch of vegetables.”

Lucifer gave his twin a withering look. “I really hope Miss Lopez owns a high-quality vibrator, because she has her work cut out for her with you.”

Michael opened his mouth to retort, but he had to jump backwards to avoid the splash as Chloe emptied a bucket full of water over the warbling Jophiel.

Jophiel sputtered and quit singing, finally noticing the small crowd squatting and kneeling around him.

He reached out and succeeded in grabbing Michael’s knee on the second try, staring up at him with a serious expression. He said something in another language that Chloe could not identify, and Michael’s eyes widened.

“Oh no,” moaned Zadkiel next to her.

“What’s he saying?” Chloe asked from the corner of her mouth.

“He’s dispensing wisdom. In Old Norse, for some reason.”

“Wait, he’s actually the angel of wisdom?” Chloe tore her eyes away from Jophiel to stare at Zadkiel instead.

“Yeah,” said Zadkiel with an embarrassed grimace. “We all figure Dad was on a ‘mysterious ways’ kick when he made Joey.”

Jophiel had apparently dispensed some wisdom for Lucifer as well, who threw his hands in the air in response.

“I know! Believe me, I know. You don’t have to rub it in.”

Jophiel next turned on Zadkiel, who listened to his advice, and accepted whatever was said with a nod.

Finally, the inebriated angel turned to Chloe, his gaze intense if slightly unfocused. He spoke to her, but once again Chloe couldn’t identify the language. She wasn’t even sure if the slurring was a linguistic feature or a result of the speaker’s drunken state.

“What did he say?” demanded Chloe. It was unfair if everyone could understand the Angel of Wisdom’s advice except for her.

There was a pause, before Lucifer spoke up.

“He says that you are placing importance solely on words, and you should remember that actions are a form of communication as well.”

“’Actions speak louder than words?’ That’s it?”

Jophiel spoke again, thumping the pier near her knee with the flat of his hand.

“He says, ‘Actions don’t always speak louder than words, but they do speak.’” Lucifer paused before adding, “In Ubykh, which has been extinct since the 90s, unless I’m mistaken.”

Chloe furrowed her brow as she considered the words. Meanwhile, Jophiel's eyelids had slid closed and he began snoring quietly, satisfied that he had dispensed enough wisdom for the day.

After a few futile attempts to wake Jophiel and get him on his feet, the brothers decided to carry him to one of the lounge chairs. Chloe went ahead to lay some towels down, while the twins heaved on Jophiel’s shoulders, leaving his feet to Zadkiel once again. Jophiel’s wings dragged limply along the surface of the patio, smearing the brick with two trails of water, sporadically plastered with damp feathers. They were about to heft their brother onto the chair when they heard Gabriel’s voice.

“Uh, did we miss something?”

The brothers holding Jophiel froze and turned to the sound. The hikers had returned, appearing on the edge of the patio with the paddle boat drifting nearby on the lake like an escort. Every face, both human and celestial, was a picture of bewilderment.

Dan’s mouth opened, then closed again, as he looked at the snoring angel who was slung between his brothers with his head lolling backwards and his wings trailing on the ground.

“He’s fine,” said Lucifer, before anyone could articulate the question. “How was the hike?”

-----------

Dan had been worried about bringing chatty, slightly clueless Raphael and his stern-faced sister Remiel on the hike, but they had turned out to be great company for the activity. Remiel could identify every bird by sound, and she had pointed out evidence of the passing of animals along the sides of the trail, none of which Dan would ever have seen. Raphael, meanwhile, had described the medicinal uses for the various plants and herbs they passed. Dan was still puzzled by the fact the angel could know that the bark of a specific tree made a tea to reduce fevers, while also being so stumped by a coffee maker that he took it apart to figure out what it did. As far as angelic weirdness went, Raphael's extremely specialized knowledge was downright boring compared to the sight that met them when they returned to the lake house, however.

After taking in the bizarre tableau starring a very damp, unconscious Jophiel, Raphael became excited at the prospect of treating alcohol intoxication in one of his siblings.

This enthusiasm quickly became disappointment, as he found that his healing powers did very little. Apparently, drunkenness was not an injury or illness for angels. Raphael recommended that Jophiel simply sleep off his bender.

Chloe couldn’t help but notice that the other angels seemed a little relieved that their brother was in no condition to continue dispensing wisdom.

Gabriel shuddered when Chloe told her what had happened. “He usually gets all wise when he’s sad. We try to avoid him when he’s like that; it can be really awkward.”

Chloe thought that must be a sad sort of existence, if Jophiel’s literally God-given ability alienated him from his family. Hadn’t Michael said the same thing about being the Angel of Fear? Then again, she could also understand what Gabriel meant; she knew exactly what Jophiel’s “actions speak” advice was about—her chafing at how seldom Lucifer said he loved her—but it felt crass to have it vocalized by a drunken angel lying on a pier.

She was just about to join Trixie, who was organizing another game of Angel Quidditch at Gabriel's request, when the peace of the day was shattered by the sound of an explosion from inside the house.

Chloe rushed towards the open patio door but was forced to stop when a cloud of grey smoke billowed out. The smoke stung her throat and made her eyes water, and she retreated upwind, coughing.

“What was that?” shouted Dan, gesturing at Trixie to stay back.

Gabriel and Castiel shot past them all, unaffected by the smoke. Sara spread her wings and flapped them, driving the grey cloud further away from the humans, who huddled together at one end of the patio.

“I hope no one got hurt!” said Dan. He had a death grip on Trixie’s shoulder.

After another minute, Castiel emerged from the door. He wore a broad grin, and Chloe’s felt her neck muscles loosen from their adrenaline-induced knot.

“We’re all good in here, although the kitchen is a bit of a mess. The twins as well!”

“What happened, brother?” demanded Saraqael.

“It seems like Luci and Mike decided to try to water down their liquor to avoid a repeat of the Jophiel situation.”

“It turns out it doesn’t play well with water,” said Lucifer, emerging from the haze behind his brother. “But the other bottles didn’t shatter, so there’s no cause for alarm.”

The assembled group stared at the Devil. His entire front side was coated in a grey residue the same shade as the smoke. His hair had escaped from its normal perfect coif, but instead of falling in loose strands, it was blown straight backwards across his head, giving him the appearance of a ghostly hedgehog.

Trixie was the first to giggle, which set off a snort from Sara and a bark of laughter from Remiel, and soon everyone present was doubled over at the Devil’s miffed expression.

Michael appeared a few moments later. He had been further from the epicenter of the blast than his twin, but he was still coated in a liberal amount of the grey residue, and his appearance only served to prolong the hysterics of the assembled crowd.

“Yes, yes, yuk it up,” said Michael testily, attempting to wipe the color off his sleeves, which only smeared it around.

Lucifer was staring mournfully down at his ruined suit. “This was Tom Ford…”

The laughter was subsiding when Gabriel’s curl-topped head popped out of the doorway. The smoke had finally begun to clear.

“Hey guys, has anyone seen Linda?”

The mirth died instantly, and Chloe felt her heart stop—the doctor had taken Charlie for a nap. Chloe started to run towards the house—mysterious grey smoke be damned—when she heard, for the second time that day, the sound of drunken singing.

Amenadiel emerged from a door to one side of the house. He had Charlie bundled in one of his arms, and the other was wrapped around Linda, who was clearly wasted. She was looking at Charlie and tunelessly singing “He is my baby / He is my baby / His prefrontal cortex isn’t fully developed yet / But he is my baby” on repeat. At one point she reached out and pinched Amenadiel’s cheek, dedicating the next repetition of the ditty to the angel.

“A little help here, guys?” asked Amenadiel, seeing the frozen stares of his friends and siblings.

Sara stepped forward and took her nephew from his arms. Dan stepped up to help haul Linda up the steps onto the patio. Linda tried to boop Dan's nose but poked him in the eye instead, before declaring that he was also her baby with an underdeveloped prefrontal cortex. Between the two men, they managed to settle the tiny therapist onto a lounge chair near the snoring Jophiel.

“Raph, do you think you can do something about this?” called Amenadiel over the spirited singing.

“I wasn’t able to do anything for him,” replied Raphael, waving a hand at his sleeping brother.

“Yeah, but he’s an immortal who chose to get drunk. Linda’s human and this wasn’t intentional.”

Raphael stepped forward, looking doubtful, but he pressed one palm to Linda’s forehead and one to her sternum, and his brow wrinkled in concentration. The therapist’s singing trailed off and died, and her face took on a green pallor.

“Oh no, I haven’t felt like this since that rave sting at Lux. I think I’m gonna be sick," she moaned.

Chloe saw Lucifer take a step back to avoid potential vomit, and she rolled her eyes. Everything he was wearing was already ruined.

The crease in Raphael’s forehead deepened, and Linda’s complexion began to regain some healthy color.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap, if that’s all right with you guys,” she mumbled. Her head fell back against the chair, and she began snoring not seconds later.

“Will she be all right?” asked Sara, Charlie squirming in her arms.

“Yeah,” said Raphael. “She just needs to sleep. I’ll check in every few minutes until her fluid levels have stabilized.”

Gabriel was sent to pull the blankets off the bed in Linda and Amenadiel’s room, and the others picked the lounge chair up and moved it to a quiet corner of the patio.

They decided to open the windows and doors on the house to air out the rooms. When the angels said they could no longer smell the results of the twins’ impromptu chemistry experiment, Chloe finally made her way back into the house.

It wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. Well, it was bad, but most of the damage was cosmetic. The grey coating that had covered the twins coated every surface in the kitchen and some of the living room furniture. Scorch marks radiated out from a charred mark on the kitchen island, everything that had been on the counters had been blown off and was scattered in pieces on the surrounding floor, and a pipe from the remains of the coffee machine had impaled the front door of the refrigerator. The kitchen ceiling immediately above the explosion’s epicenter was a sickening green-grey and appeared to be melting. Chloe carefully avoided stepping underneath it.

“Well,” said the Devil, “it’s a good thing that lunch today is being catered. Speaking of, I think a shower and change of clothes is in order before I pop off to pick the food up.”

“Nope.”

Chloe grabbed his elbow before he could turn and head for their room.

“Darling, I am sure our guests are getting quite peckish. I would be remiss as host if—”

“Amenadiel will get the food,” Chloe said, her tone making it clear that she would broach no arguments. “You and Michael will get this cleaned up.”

Lucifer opened his mouth, looked at her expression, and shut it again.

“Of course, darling.”

Chloe turned back to the door and found that once again, guests had returned without anyone noticing. Azrael and Ella stood side-by-side just inside the sliding doors, staring at the mess of scorch marks, grey gunk, dripping ceiling, and impaled refrigerator.

Ella, looking dazed, jabbed a thumb over her shoulder back towards the patio.

“Uh, Linda and Jophiel are sleeping out there. Jophiel’s dripping on the porch.”

“Yeah, that was, like, three disasters ago,” said Chloe with a sigh.

Chapter Text

Chloe desperately needed some fresh air and some distance from the twins, who were bickering about whether to use conventional cleaning supplies or to simply erase the evidence of the explosion from existence with the power of the demiurge.

Stepping outside, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay, she thought to herself.

“Uh, Chloe?”

Chloe opened her eyes and found Amenadiel standing before her, clearly reluctant to impose on her.

“I heard that you need me to go pick up the catering?” he said, pitching the sentence as a question.

“Oh yes, that. Would you? It would be very helpful.”

“Of course,” said Amenadiel with that smile that she always found reassuring. “Sara is looking after Charlie, so it won’t be a problem.”

“She’s going to spoil him,” said Chloe with an answering smile.

“Yeah, she’s always liked kids. And I’m not complaining. It’s not a bad idea to have an angelic babysitter on call.”

Chloe gave Amenadiel instructions so he could go get the food, and he disappeared in a flurry of dark feathers.

Chloe returned to her deep breathing routine, trying to enjoy the sounds of nature, which she could almost pretend drowned out Linda and Jophiel’s snoring and the sound of the twins bickering inside. The wind rustled through the trees, with an occasional stronger gust bending the tops of the surrounding pines. The waves were splashing pleasantly on the lake, birds were singing in the nearby branches, and far above her Charlie was giggling—Oh God.

Chloe’s eyes flew open. High, high above the lake, an angelic form was swooping in a giant inverted arc. With each swoop, the distinctive sound of a toddler’s giggling became more pronounced, before receding as the figure reached the apex of its flight. Chloe could just barely make out a flash of blonde hair—Saraqael.

“Sara!” she shouted. “Sara!”

The figure continued, oblivious to Chloe’s distress. She turned and found Remiel just inside the patio doors, watching the Michael and Lucifer Show.

“Remi!” Chloe grabbed her sleeve. “Sara is flying with Charlie.”

The angel watched her for a few seconds, waiting, before replying, “And?”

“And neither Amenadiel or Linda knows!”

The angel’s face was still politely interested but uncomprehending. “No, they likely don’t.”

“Don’t you think they should know when their child is being taken hundreds of feet in the air above the lake?”

“Can we not simply inform Amenadiel when he returns?”

Chloe turned, exasperated, and spotted Castiel.

“Castiel! Sara is flying with Charlie, and I don’t think Amenadiel or Linda know, but I’m sure they would want to!”

Castiel’s booming laugh rang out. “I’m sure they won’t mind; Amenadiel must have flown with Charlie a hundred times. I bet Charlie is having the time of his life!”

“I don’t think Amenadiel has flown with him.” Chloe was now wringing her hands. “Down here, Amenadiel tends to live like a human, and humans get nervous when our feet aren’t on the ground. Or our offspring’s feet.”

Castiel gave a huff of laughter, clearly thinking Chloe was being hysterical, but he took pity on her.

“I’ll go tell her to come back down, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Please, Castiel.”

They went back onto the patio, but Castiel’s help wasn’t necessary. Sara landed, a giggling Charlie in her arms. Both of them looked wind-blown.

“Sister! I was about to come speak with you. The human is worried for Charlie’s safety.”

Sara eyed Charlie, who was flapping his arms like wings and making demanding baby sounds. He hadn’t been in the least bit scared.

“Why, is something wrong?”

“Humans get a little freaked out when babies are so far off the ground,” Chloe explained. “I know it’s normal for you, but I think Linda might object.”

“Oh,” said Sara with a slight frown. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. But humans travel in airplanes, right?”

“Yeah, we do, but that’s…” Chloe trailed off. Explaining this would be more complicated than she thought.

Charlie’s flapping and whining was getting more intense; he was clearly upset that his aunt wasn’t taking off with him again.

“Can I take him?” Chloe asked, giving up on the explanations.

“Sure!” Sara handed him over. “I’m sorry young one, but those limbs are insufficient for flight. You will not achieve enough lift,” she told her nephew in a grave voice.

Chloe took the baby, carefully avoiding the chubby flailing arms. It was, admittedly, adorable.

“Aw, he just wants to be like his dad and his aunts and uncles. Don’t you, little man?” Castiel said, leaning in to smile at his nephew. “But arms don’t work like that. You need to figure out if you have anything back here.” He tapped Charlie on the back, and several things happened at once.

Chloe heard the now-familiar fwoom of unfurling wings, and she was buffeted first by air, then by tiny toddler fists, and lastly by a set of fluffy grey wings. It was all Chloe could do not to drop the infant, who was now shrieking, clearly as alarmed by the development as Chloe was.

“Oh! Oh no! Charlie!” Chloe held the infant at arm’s length, but the wings were long enough that they still landed bruising blows along her sides, arms, and head. “Charlie! Could someone—”

Someone came to her rescue, and the baby was lifted from her hands. She stepped back, grateful to be out of the radius of the frantically flapping wings.

“Darling, are you hurt?” Lucifer appeared beside her.

“I’m fine Lucifer, it just surprised me.”

“Your lip is bleeding. Raphael! Where is—oh for the love of Dad, it’s like they’ve never seen a pair of wings before.”

Chloe turned to follow his gaze. Charlie was in Castiel’s arms, and someone had calmed him down enough that he was no longer flapping wildly, but he was still bawling, and his new limbs were wiggling and shaking. Every single angel present (bar snoozing Jophiel) was crowded around, a look of adoration on each face. Ella was at the edge of the crowd, trying to jump high enough to get a good look. Trixie had pulled up a chair so she could stand on it and see.

“Come on, Sam, you have to admit they’re adorable,” said Michael, the smile on his face more genuine than any Chloe had seen from him before. “Aww, they look just like Menny’s!”

The wings were adorable. They were the same dark grey as Charlie’s father’s, but they were covered entirely in fluffy down.

“Oh honey, it’s okay!” Sara was patting her nephew between his new appendages. “You just have to get used to them!”

Raphael reached out a finger and touched the infant.

“He’s not in pain.”

“No, he’s just scared,” said Michael. He closed his eyes for a second and the baby calmed a bit, although he still looked unhappy.

“I gotta go tell everyone!” shouted Gabriel, before disappearing in a flash of feathers.

“Man, Amenadiel and Linda are going to be pissed they missed this,” said Dan.

“Oh no,” Chloe said. “You’re right. Do you think we can get the wings back in and pretend nothing happened?”

“Maybe,” said Zadkiel, who was now holding Charlie. The siblings had begun passing him around, each wanting a turn with their newly befeathered nephew. “But if he was startled by them coming out, we should wait a bit; it’ll probably be just as alarming for them to go back in.”

Finally, finally, Charlie was quieting. He was still perplexed by the wings and kept whipping his head from side to side in an attempt to see them, before extending a little arm backwards to grab. The movement of reaching for them unfortunately moved the wings further back as well, so they were always just out of his grasp.

“Let me help you there, little one,” said Michael, who was now holding Charlie on his hip. He reached back and took one of the wings between his fingers, pulling it into Charlie’s reach with a gentle motion. The wing twitched at the initial contact, but stilled, and Charlie grasped his new limb with a delighted giggle.

Ella watched Michael’s grumpy exterior crumble as he handled his nephew with gentleness and adoration, and she felt like her ovaries were about to explode. Who would have guessed that he would be good with kids? How exactly had Charlie been conceived anyhow? Was it something she and Michael could do?

Whoa, you’re getting way ahead of yourself there, Lopez, she scolded herself. You’ve literally only kissed him. Once.

Even Lucifer agreed to hold Charlie for a few minutes, and he had to admit that he didn’t hate the experience. The little nephil was too preoccupied with his own wing to put his sticky little hands on Lucifer’s suit.

“See, it’s not so bad, is it?” Chloe sidled up to him.

“When he isn’t making an awful racket or getting goo everywhere he’s… tolerable,” the Devil conceded.

Chloe stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his cheek.

At that moment, Amenadiel’s head popped out of the house.

“Oh, that’s where you all are! What’s going on? Is that—” His eyes went as wide as saucers when he saw his son’s wings. He stood frozen for a heartbeat, then— “YESSSSS!” He roared and punched upwards, denting the top of the doorframe inwards by several inches.

He charged forward and scooped his son out of Lucifer’s arms.

“I knew it!” He held Charlie by the waist and spun around while the baby laughed and flapped his fluffy little wings.

“Where’s Linda? Oh, I forgot. She’s gonna be glad she bubble wrapped the ceiling fan, at least.” Amenadiel couldn’t stop grinning.

Remiel laid a friendly hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“He has no primaries yet, brother. You have a while before you need to worry about him becoming airborne.”

But Amenadiel didn’t hear her; he was too busy grinning at his son who was so very perfect.

Dan and Trixie eventually went in to get the food and place settings for the table, and Lucifer pulled Raphael to the side so he could fix the souvenirs Charlie’s wings had given chloe—a split lip and several bruises.

Jophiel began to stir around this time, and Raphael went to tend to his brother next.

“Oh man, why does the light hurt so much?” mumbled the angel, looking green.

“You decided to try our liquor,” said Michael matter-of-factly. “You are experiencing a hangover.”

“Oh yeah,” said Jophiel, a smile spreading across his face despite his purported pain. “That stuff was awesome! Where’d you put the bottle? I want some more!”

Chloe and Ella left the twins to keep Jophiel away from the booze and helped set the table for lunch. Rae Rae joined a few minutes later but wasn’t much help, because she kept getting distracted by the food.

“Ooh, what’s that?” she asked for the hundredth time.

“Chicken tikka masala,” said Dan. “It’s Indian food.”

Lucifer had ordered cuisine from almost every country represented in the culinary ecosystem of Los Angeles.

“Don’t you go to India a lot, too?” asked Trixie. She had decided that she liked the Angel of Death.

“My work takes me everywhere, but I don’t exactly have time to sit and eat,” said Rae Rae. She eyed a round of injera suspiciously. “It has so many holes in it…”

A few minutes later when Trixie and Chloe were at the far end of the table and Ella had gone inside to get drinks, Dan saw his opportunity. He turned to Rae Rae before he lost his nerve and asked: “Am I going to die any time soon?”

The angel froze in surprise. “What? Mr. Espinoza, I’m really not supposed to say anything about that sort of thing.”

“But you know, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m the only person who’s supposed to know. Did someone say I would tell you?”

“Michael said you wouldn’t, but he also said you’re a bad liar.”

Azrael rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. Michael!”

Michael appeared at her side, making Dan jump. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way angelic flight could effectively operate like teleportation. “Sister?”

“Are you going around telling humans to ask me when they’re going to die?”

Michael’s eyes were wide and innocent. “I would never!”

“C’mon, dude! That’s exactly what you said!” protested Dan.

“How dare you! The details of your fate are between you and our Father. I would never even consider interfering. You must content yourself with not knowing if you will die tomorrow or in fifty years.”

Dan gaped at him. “You said I was okay, and that I shouldn’t go around worrying about it.”

“Michael, what are you playing at, freaking humans out like that?” Azrael scolded, before turning to Dan. “Don’t let him get in your head. He’s using your fear against you even though you have no reason to actually worry about—”

The little angel’s jaw snapped shut, and she rounded on her brother and aimed a punch at his jaw. “Look what you made me do!”

Michael grinned, even as he dodged his little sister’s fists.

Dan sank into a chair, overwhelmed by the feeling that his spine had turned to rubber. He was going to be okay. He had time to get his soul in order.

Ella, meanwhile, had set the wine glasses she was carrying on the table, and marched over to pull apart the quarrelling siblings.

“Hey, hey, knock it off! Michael, what did you do?”

“Who says I did anything?” said Michael with a pout.

Ella pursed her lips to avoid smiling at his see-through innocent act, and asked in her best “strict librarian” voice, “Did you?”

Michael held her gaze for a few seconds before he caved. “I may have tricked her into reassuring Daniel that he isn’t at risk of imminent death. It was for a good reason, I swear!”

“Ella, I’m really not supposed to tell anyone about their lifespan! I could get into trouble.”

“You won’t, though,” said Michael. “You never do.”

“Okay,” Ella cut in, “Michael, apologize to Rae Rae.”

To Rae Rae’s utter bewilderment, her stubborn, pig-headed brother turned to her and said, with absolute sincerity, “I’m sorry, Azrael, I shouldn’t use you like that. It was unfair of me.”

“Oh,” Azrael blinked. “That’s okay, Mike. I forgive you.”

“Okay, Mike, how about you go help Zadkiel get drinks for the table?” Ella gave Michael a sweet smile, and Michael nodded, blushed, and went off to do as he was told.

“What on Earth was that, Els? I’ve never seen him act like that before. Maybe he’s been replaced by a body snatcher.”

Ella studiously avoided her friend’s eyes. “I dunno, maybe Earth has changed him a bit. I’ve heard it changed Lucifer and Amenadiel a lot.”

“It’s not Earth that changing him,” said Trixie, appearing at Rae Rae’s elbow, her eyes fixed on Ella with a knowing grin.

Ella shook her head at Trixie, but she knew she’d already lost.

“Wait. You said earlier that talking to him had helped you out…” Azrael began, a look of realization dawning on her face.

And Trixie began singing that perennial schoolyard favorite:

“Michael and Ella, sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Why you little—” Ella advanced on Trixie.

“First comes love, then comes marriage!” Trixie continued, dodging out of Ella’s reach.

“I’m going to throw you in the lake!” swore Ella.

“Then comes baby in a baby carriage!” Trixie was now singing gleefully.

Ella cornered Trixie by a patio railing, put her in a headlock and gave her a proper older-sister noogie.

“You were kissing Michael in a tree?” asked Rae Rae, who had drifted after the two.

“No! I haven’t been kissing anyone in a tree! It’s just a stupid song!”

“But you have been kissing him, right?” Trixie’s grin remained undiminished.

Ella whipped her head around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said with a blush, “Once! We’ve kissed once!”

“Ella!” gasped Rae Rae.

“I’m sorry, Rae Rae, I didn’t know he was your brother when we kinda started… hanging out. I didn’t know because you hadn’t told me who you were! So it’s your fault I broke the hoes-before-bros rule!”

“But Michael?” The angel looked like Ella had just suggested that fish made wonderful bicyclists. “I mean, you said he helped you out earlier, but… Michael?! He’s so… him.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know. Chloe’s warned me about all the stuff he’s done, so you can save your breath. I like him.”

“Do you like-like him?” asked Trixie. “Are you going to kiss him again?”

“Yeah, I think I will. It’s very new though, so don’t go telling everyone about it. Rae Rae, you still with me?”

The angel of death was looking thoughtful.

“You know, he’s the one who’s always on my back whenever I get my reaping reports in late. Maybe this could work for me too. The next time he’s driving us all nuts by being super uptight, we can make sure he spends some time with you, and you two f—” she broke off, looking sideways at Trixie. “…French a bit, then he’ll be way less irritating! You realize he’s like, super virginal, right?”

“Well, he won’t be by the time I’m done with him,” said Ella, then clapped both hands over her mouth. “Oh my God, Trix, please don’t tell your mom I said that in front of you.”

But the girl just wrinkled her nose. “Ew, you guys are gross.”

Rae Rae started laughing, and by the time they joined everyone else for lunch, Trixie was teaching her Ella and Michael sittin’ in a tree. Azrael did, however, make sure there was an empty seat next to Ella when Michael joined the table.

-----------

Chloe found that spending time with angels was easy in places she expected it to be difficult, but problematic in ways she would never have foreseen. Namely, although Charlie fit into his highchair with his wings over the sides, the slightest movement of said appendages put the chair at risk of tipping over.

In the end, Amenadiel sat next to his son and put one foot on the lowest rung of the chair to steady it. Twice during the meal, the baby flapped with excitement and napkins flew everywhere, but overall, it caused fewer issues than it could have.

The humans learned that Michael’s aversion to spicy food was shared by all his siblings except Lucifer and Amenadiel, the latter of whom went as far as eating some medium-heat saag paneer. But when Dan mentioned that as a child he and his brothers had eaten the hottest peppers they could find as a way to show how tough they were, it took only a few minutes for Remiel, Zadkiel, Castiel, and Jophiel to dig into food they clearly did not enjoy eating.

“Too hot for you, sister?” Castiel asked Remiel, his face burning scarlet.

“Of course not, brother,” said Remi, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t feel a thing.”

“Try this one!” suggested Trixie, pushing forward a red Thai curry that even Dan and Ella had struggled with.

Castiel was the first to show signs of breaking. “Uh, Daniel. When you and your brothers had finished with this contest of wills, what did you do afterwards? To stop the, uh, pain?”

“You’ll want some dairy to cool things down,” said Dan with a grin. “This raita for example.”

He set the bowl of raita equidistant from the four competitors.

Each angel stared at the other three, none wanting to be the first to give in. Then, as if on cue, all four lunged for the bowl. The tussle was too quick for human eyes to follow, but the final result was Amenadiel being splattered with Raita from his chest to the top of his head, and Jophiel hunching over the bowl, scooping the remnants into his mouth with his fingers and an air of quiet desperation.

“I’ll go get some milk,” said Amenadiel with a sigh. “And a new shirt. Keep Charlie’s chair from tipping, would you Michael?”

As Amenadiel stood, trying not to drip raita on the patio, Sara leaned towards Dan from her seat next to him.

“I see, so while the competitors believe they are proving their character, the true value of the activity is in the amusement of the spectators. Very clever, Daniel,” she said with a wink.

“Uh, yeah,” said Dan with laugh. “And you can just call me Dan.”

“Of course, Dan,” Sara replied, settling back into her seat.

Lucifer had been watching the interaction from the end of the table.

“Oh for Dad’s sake!” he snapped. “First Michael, now you, Sara! This is a family vacation, not a singles’ retreat!”

Dan’s face turned red, but the blonde angel just gave her brother a cool, haughty stare.

Ella and Michael caught each other’s eyes, and Ella leaned in and gave him a peck on cheek. Michael blushed and ducked his head.

Lucifer made an exasperated sound, but it was muffled by the sound of flapping angel wings, and Gabriel reappeared. At least, they assumed it was Gabriel. The figure was buried under a massive armload of objects, and the top of her curly head was just barely visible.

“Hi guys, everyone says congrats to Menny, Linda, and Charlie, of course. They asked me to bring some presents down for the little guy.”

“Well, Menny’s cleaning yogurt off himself and Linda’s still out cold—” began Lucifer, before he was interrupted by a groan of pain.

“No, I’m up… barely.” Linda was sitting up on the lounge chair in the corner of the patio, holding her head. “Oh God, it’s Cabo all over again.”

“Well, our Father is probably not involved, but let me see if I can help,” said Raphael, standing to minister to the green-faced human.

A touch to her forehead later, and Linda looked far better.

“Wow, you’re gonna have to join us for girls’ night, Raph,” she said, rubbing her still bleary eyes. “You’re like Ibuprofen, strong coffee, and the hair of the dog all rolled into one. Thanks!”

“I have no idea what that means, but you’re welcome!” enthused the angel.

“Doctor, you missed an event of some import while you were out,” said Lucifer. “Your son—”

“Oh no, what did you all do to him?” asked Linda with a groan before her eyes fell on her son or, more specifically, her son’s wings.

“Charlie!”

Charlie giggled and flapped his wings, forcing Michael to lean heavily onto his foot to keep the high chair from tipping.

“Oh my God!” Linda sprinted towards the baby as if she hadn’t just been horrifically hung over.

“Watch out Linda, they pack quite a punch!” But Chloe’s warning was too late, and in Charlie’s enthusiasm at seeing his mother, he flapped one of his wings into her face, the wrist joint slamming into her nose, breaking it.

“Goodness, you humans spend so much time bleeding, don’t you?” said Raphael cheerfully.

Amenadiel had just returned to the porch in a fresh shirt with a jug of milk, which Remiel snatched out of his hands. He ran to Linda to examine her streaming nose.

“A little help, brother?”

“Oh right.” Raphael touched Linda’s forehead. Her nose straightened, and the waterfall of blood dried up instantly.

Charlie giggled again at Linda’s bloodstained face and flapped his wings again. His mother dodged this time.

“He has wings.” She was still processing this fact. “Amenadiel, our son has wings!”

“I know, Linda, isn’t it wonderful?” said Amenadiel, beaming.

Linda sank into a nearby chair looking shell shocked.

“As I was saying,” Gabriel began again from behind her pile of gifts. “When I went home to tell everyone, a bunch of people gave me gifts for him.” She dropped the armful on Raphael’s vacated chair.

“Okay, so we have—” she broke off, having caught sight of Remiel, Castiel, Zadkiel and Jophiel, who were passing the gallon of milk between them. “What’s wrong with them?”

“Oh they’ll be fine. Just engaging in a human culinary tradition,” said Lucifer with a wave of his hand. “Or a hazing tradition, more accurately. Is that unicorn fur?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Gabriel, pulling a silvery blanket from the pile. It looked velvety-soft and shimmered like moonlight on water. “This is from Hanjobadiel.” She handed it to Linda.

“Unicorns exist?” Ella hissed in Michael’s ear.

“In the silver city, yes,” said Michael. “They were an early experiment of our Father’s that he decided not to keep after Eden.” Ella’s eyes were huge. “So long as Charlie is in contact with that blanket, he won’t be vulnerable to injury or illness,” continued Michael. “It is a princely gift. Good on Hanjobadiel, even if he’s a usually bit of a drip.”

The other gifts included: a music box that, when opened, released glittering golden birds that sang heavenly melodies; a crown of jewel-like flowers that the humans quickly learned to stay away from, because if they smelled them they found themselves staring into space and weeping tears of joy; a book of Aesop’s fables in which the animals came to life and moved around the pages as the text was read; a ruby red train set that required no apparent power source to make the train move; and lastly—

“This is from our Father,” said Gabriel, reverently holding the grey stuffed rabbit out to Charlie.

The baby inspected the rabbit, then inserted one of its ears into his mouth as an apparent quality test.

“Does it… do something?” asked Linda hesitantly.

The entire group was eyeing the plushie, wondering what secrets it held.

Gabriel just shrugged. “I dunno. He just said to give it to him.”

“Cryptic bastard,” said Lucifer into his tumbler of whiskey, earning him reproachful glares from many of his siblings, and a hiss from Remiel.

Charlie was now holding the rabbit by one leg and waving it over the side of the highchair, enjoying how its ears flopped with the motion.

“It might just be a stuffed rabbit,” said Amenadiel with a shrug.

Charlie tightened his grip on Rabbit. He already knew it would be his favorite for years to come.

Chapter Text

A small army helped clean up from lunch, while Lucifer helped Ella set up for her surprise activity. He pulled an extra flat screen from one of the house’s many rooms and set it on a table outdoors, before hooking it up to an extension cable.

When Ella had gotten her computer hooked up, the guests (sans Amenadiel, Linda, and Charlie, who went inside to spend some time figuring out how to handle the baby’s new wings) gathered around the screen, lounging on deck chairs and benches and enjoying the feeling of being full with good food.

“Okay,” said Ella, pulling up the first slide of a Powerpoint. “Who Is It?” read the titlecard, against a background of cartoon cats with wings and halos. “I think this will be best if everyone divides into teams. How about… Trixie, you’re captain of Team A. Dan, you’re captain of Team B, and Chloe, you’re captain of Team C.”

An impromptu draft was held, and soon Trixie was joined by Gabriel, Remiel, and Azrael, and she declared that they were Team Awesome. Dan had drafted Saraqael (which made Lucifer groan and roll his eyes), Zadkiel, and Jophiel. Trixie ribbed her father, suggesting that their team name should be “The Sore Losers”, but Dan overrode this and declared they were The Lightning Bolts (his initial suggestion was The Sharks, but Zadkiel protested that lightning was far more dangerous than sharks, to which Sara pointed out that if dangerousness was requisite to a good team name, they should just call themselves the Car Accidents). Chloe’s team of Lucifer, Raphael, Michael, and Castiel took the longest to choose a name, probably because she had somehow ended up with both of the twins.

“Chloe, if you let him name us the ‘Devil Bunnies’, I’m leaving,” protested Michael.

“I’m not sure I understand the point of this exercise. Why would we declare ourselves to be rabbits when that is clearly untrue?” Raphael was really struggling here.

“What about Charlie’s Angels?” suggested Castiel.

The group stilled.

“I don’t hate it,” said Michael, giving his seal of approval.

“It’s accurate,” said Raphael.

“Are you aware that that is the name of a TV show, Cassie, or is that just a coincidence?” asked Lucifer.

The angel just shrugged. “Maybe I like Farrah Fawcett. So what?”

“Okay, everyone,” said Ella, raising her voice to be heard over the murmur. “I’m going to show fifteen pictures of paintings, sculptures, or stained-glass windows, each of which is supposed to depict someone here. I tried to leave in some clues, but I’ve blurred or cropped out anything that would give it away completely. Each team needs to decide who they think the picture is meant to be. If no one gets the right answer on the first go, I’ll show a bit more of the picture to give everyone a hint, and so on until a team gets it right.”

Lucifer was grinning, and Michael had on the smirk that Ella had realized was the “happy” smirk.

She continued. “Uh, I wasn’t able to find images of everyone. There are a couple of you that artists love to paint—”

“Because we’re awesome!” said Gabriel.

“And some of you… not so much.”

“Because some of us were doing serious work, instead of prancing around Judea with our wings out,” said Saraqael, a touch bitterly.

Ella continued. “And some of you it was really hard to find images where it wasn’t super obvious—”

“They had me do the thing with my fingers, didn’t they?” interrupted Gabriel again. “I mean, this isn’t some sort of signal for ‘bee-tee-dubs, you’re pregnant’, ya’ know?” She held up her hand in a loose fist, her pointer and middle fingers extended upwards. “And yet everyone’s sure that’s what I did.”

“At least you’re not always carrying a scythe,” said Azrael gloomily. “Or shown as a skeleton.”

She shuddered.

“You’re drawn as a skeleton? That must be so hard on you, sister,” said Lucifer dryly. “Miss Lopez, I really hope you didn’t include anything from the phase where they were drawing me with a face on my stomach.”

Ella gulped. “Uh, no.” She had been very close to including one.

“Face on your stomach?” hissed Chloe to Lucifer.

The Devil rolled his eyes. “Some sort of metaphor about me tempting humans to be guided by their bodies rather than their heads. Absolute nonsense! Besides, gluttony isn’t the main indulgence I’ve pursued with humans.” His smile became lecherous. “If anything, they should have drawn a face on my—"

“Okay!” Shouted Ella, clicking to the next slide of her Powerpoint. “Painting number one. Who is it?”

The angels broke out in snorts of laughter as soon as they saw the romanticized painting of an androgenous angel with flowing golden hair and rosy cheeks.

“I’m pretty sure Zadkiel had that exact haircut in the seventh century,” teased Castiel.

“Shut it!” said Zadkiel with a warning tone. “Besides, don’t you see how the hair is being blown in the wind? This is clearly Gabby on her way to annoy someone.”

“Teams need to agree on an answer!” said Ella, before her game could devolve into a fight.

After a bit of squabbling, Dan and Chloe’s teams decided that the angel had to be Gabriel, whereas Trixie’s team (of which Gabriel was a member) decided it was Zadkiel based on the hair alone.

“I can reveal…” said Ella, pausing dramatically, “…that you’re all wrong! Here’s a bit more of the painting.”

She clicked to the next slide, which showed the angel’s right arm extended forwards, while its left arm was clutching an object against its body.

“Is the right hand holding a sword?” asked Raphael. “It could be Michael.”

“If so, his stance is terrible,” said Remiel disapprovingly.

Dan squinted at the part of the object that was visible tucked under the angels left arm. “Are those scales?” he asked.

A murmur of recognition ran through the angels, although Lucifer groaned.

“St. Michael and the dragon, Miss Lopez? Really?”

“Dragons are cool,” said Ella, carefully keeping her face neutral.

No one outside of Trixie’s team had heard the girl whisper, “It kinda looks like a fish.”

The second round of guesses once again saw Chloe and Dan’s teams united, this time declaring the angel to be Michael. Trixie’s team submitted Raphael’s name.

“And we have our first winner!” declared Ella, putting on her best game show host imitation.

She clicked to the next slide, where the full painting was shown, along with the name “Raphael” decorated with clipart hearts.

Trixie’s team traded high-fives (after a quick explanation and demonstration of a high-five), while the other teams groaned.

Chloe squinted at the full painting. The angel’s right hand held a shepherd’s crook, while the left arm…

“Why are you holding a fish?” she asked Raphael.

“I have no idea,” he said, as confused as she was.

Michael sighed. “The Bible includes a story of Raphael guiding a guy called Tobias, who was on a quest to find a remedy for his father’s blindness. Tobias caught a fish and is told by Raphael that he can use it as a cure. I doubt there’s any truth to it; Raphael’s never been to Earth before.”

“Actually, Father did task me with making an antidote for blindness in answer to a prayer around that time,” said Raphael. “I didn’t deliver it in-person, of course.”

“Who did?” asked Michael. By this point, everyone was listening in with curiosity.

Raphael’s eyes flicked sideways to the group of angels huddled around Dan.

“What?” said Jophiel. “All I said was, ‘I wouldn’t say no to some food,’ and suddenly the dude’s like ‘I guess I’ll go fishing then.’ His dad had been blind for years at that point; so what if we took the time to eat?”

Michael buried his face in his hands.

-----------

The game was a rousing success, with even Remi breaking into giggles at times. The least dignified portrayals caused more amusement than offense, and Gabriel suggested an outing to go see some of the artworks in person.

“Perhaps another time, sister,” said Lucifer. “I believe the detective’s spawn has decided that another game of…” he heaved a long-suffering sigh, “…’Angel Quidditch’ is in order. I’ve also placed bathing suits in the bathroom off the living room. They are items of clothing specifically for swimming, Raphael, as this particular human culture is rife with hangups surrounding nudity. I had to guess on sizes, but the one with your name pinned to it should fit.”

The angels who hadn’t been present yesterday looked slightly concerned by the mention of the game, but the fact that both Gabriel and Michael jumped up, excited to get started, piqued their curiosity.

In the end, the angels switched to swimsuits, while the humans put theirs on under their outer clothing. The mountains were a little chilly, after all.

Linda and Amenadiel joined as well, carrying a winged Charlie, who they set in a little bouncing seat on the patio, within Linda’s sight.

The therapist still looked frazzled.

“Did you try getting the wings back in?” asked Chloe.

“Yeah, we did. There’s a place on his back that, if you press while also pushing on the wings, makes them go in. But he already figured out how to get them out again. Chloe, how am I going to take him out in public, or put him in daycare if he has wings?”

Chloe winced in sympathy, then smiled.

“But Linda… your baby has wings!”

Linda gave an excited little giggle. “My baby has wings!”

Trixie began giving an explanation of the rules to the attentive group, and Ella proposed an easy way to deal with the overabundance of angels: each team would have two angels (Trixie claimed the extra angel and got three), only one of whom would be in play at any one time. Instead of sitting out after fumbling or being hit with a ball, the angel would have to go to shore and tag in their teammate.

Teams were created once again: Trixie with Gabriel, Jophiel, and Remiel, who seemed to have taken to the girl; Dan with Sara and Castiel, Ella with Azrael and Michael; Chloe took Lucifer and Raphael, who seemed to be the most excited of the newcomers; and Linda took Amenadiel and Zadkiel.

The floating goals were set out on the lake, the balls and frisbees were distributed to the humans, and Trixie called “Ready, Set, Go!” The game began cordially enough, with Sara and Zadkiel being tactical yet polite. Then Lucifer dropped down on Sara from above and shoved her into the lake. She recovered quickly and shot after her brother, swearing revenge. Remiel seized on this as an opportunity to work out some pent-up feelings about her brother, and she joined her sister in attempting to submerge the Devil.

Linda took the chance to score several times in a row, as Zadkiel blocked nearly all other shots.

“Sara, we’re losing!” shouted Dan to his teammate, who braced her feet on Lucifer’s back and was using all the force of her wings to fly downwards.

Sara gave up and returned to the game quickly, but Remiel would not be so easily distracted. She took the opportunity to slip behind Lucifer, grab a wing, and drag both of them into the water. The ensuing splashing soaked everyone on shore, until they heard “I yield, sister! I yield!”

Remiel returned to the game with a triumphant smirk. Lucifer took a little longer, treading water while coughing before launching himself into the air again. After that, aggression only appeared in aid of the game, although Lucifer gave Remiel a wide birth whenever they were in the air at the same time.

Dan did a lot better without having Lucifer on his team, although Linda was surprised to find that Zadkiel was nearly as timid and polite as Amenadiel.

“Knock her out of the air, Zadkiel!” she shouted at one point when he could have stopped Azrael from blocking her shot but didn’t. “You can apologize later!”

The game went on for nearly two hours, at which point Linda mentioned that her shoulders were getting sore from constantly throwing balls. Chloe, Dan and Ella agreed, but Trixie and every single angel turned to them with wide puppy-dog eyes, and they had no choice but to keep playing.

After another half hour, Chloe finally overrode both Lucifer and Raphael.

“I won’t be able to move my arms tomorrow!”

“I could give you a massage,” offered the Devil with a glint in his eye.

“You will be giving me a massage, Lucifer, but I’m still not playing anymore.”

The four humans trudged back to the shore. The excited shouts behind them told them that Trixie and the angels had already found a way to occupy themselves. Linda went to spend some time with Charlie, while the others decided to take a turn in the jacuzzi.

“I know we won’t be as nice of company as you had last night, but I hope we’ll do,” Chloe teased Ella.

“Yeah, and at least we’ll all have swimsuits on,” said Ella absentmindedly.

“You were naked in the hot tub with Michael?” asked Dan.

Ella shrugged. “Neither of us had planned on having company.”

The hot tub felt wonderful after the exertion of Angel Quidditch, and they all sank in and relaxed in silence. Chloe leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

“Uh, Chloe? Dan?” asked Ella after a few minutes. She was positioned with a clear line of sight to the flock of angels and Trixie, whose excited shrieks were echoing across the water, whereas Dan and Chloe had their backs to it.

“What?” asked Dan, his eyes closed in bliss.

“Entirely hypothetical question here. How would you feel about, say, angels flying with your daughter and throwing her to one another midair?”

Dan and Chloe whipped their heads around.

“Oh my God!” said Dan without thinking. Chloe started to clamber out of the hot tub, but her ex-husband reached out and stilled her with a hand on her elbow.

“Just a second, Chlo’. Look!”

Chloe watched the mid-air shenanigans over the lake. It was impossible to tell if there were teams for this game, but the general idea seemed to be that only Trixie could score, and that she had to do so as an angel swooped low over a goal with her in their arms. After a goal, the angel would casually toss Chloe’s preteen daughter to one of their siblings, who would swoop low so Trixie could grab a ball from the surface of the water. Trixie would be tossed to a new angel to try to score again. Every parental instinct in Chloe was screaming at her to run along the shore and put a stop to it, but—

“I don’t think their gonna drop her,” said Dan. “And if they did, she’d just go in the water.”

Chloe slowly sank back into the hot tub, facing the lake this time.

Dan was probably right. They were only carrying Trixie over the deeper center of the lake, and they made every toss with complete ease.

“She’s loving it,” said Dan.

He was definitely right about that. Trixie was giggling the entire time, although she would shriek with delight every time she sailed through the air to a new winged steed.

“She’s going to be asking them to carry her for the rest of the weekend,” said Chloe.

“Rest of the weekend? More like the rest of her life,” said Ella. “It looks like fun! Although being thrown like that would probably be barf city for me.”

They watched for a few more minutes before Ella asked, “Has Lucifer taken you flying, Chloe?”

“A couple times,” said Chloe. “It was kinda scary at first, but once I realized there was no way he’d let anything happen to me, I started liking it. It’s cool how everything looks tiny from way up there. Also, it’s made me hate LA traffic even more, which I didn’t think was possible.”

“I would rather spend my entire life in LA traffic than go flying with an angel again,” said Dan with a shudder. At Ella’s questioning look he said, “Michael took me during one of his plots against Lucifer. I passed out.”

“And threw up,” added Chloe before she could stop herself.

“I wonder if he’d take me,” said Ella. “I always wanted to be able to fly. Like, as a superpower. Not, like, normal-person-in-a-plane flying.”

“Ask him! I’m sure he’d have fun taking you,” Chloe encouraged.

“Man, I still don’t see what you could possibly like in that guy,” said Dan.

Ella just shrugged. “He has a good soul, he just got a bit… twisted. I’m the same in some ways. Also, he gave me some good advice last night.”

“Yeah, I guess he helped me a bit too,” Dan admitted. “But I think there’s just a little part of me that can’t deal with the fact that St. Michael is less righteous and more… dickish.”

“He said he doesn’t like the whole ‘Saint’ thing. He thinks it’s embarrassing.”

At this point Chloe let out a strangled cry, and the others returned their attention to the lake. Castiel had dropped Trixie from nearly fifty feet, and Remiel had grabbed her just before she hit the water.

“I know she’s safe, but watching this is taking years off my life,” Chloe said with a groan.

“Okay, let’s go get her,” sighed Dan, and they all climbed out of the hot tub. Ella brought up the rear, having made sure that they hadn’t left anything behind, and when they got back to the beach where the angels and Trixie had been playing, she ran straight into Dan and Chloe. They were both doubled over with laughter.

Ella stared at the tableau before her. The Trixie-throwing game had stopped, and everyone was in the lake instead. Trixie was floating on her back, lazily pushing herself through the water, while the angels were… bathing?

Ella could think of no other way to describe what they were doing. Each was standing in the lake up to their waist, and was repeatedly ducking down into the water, and tossing water onto their head and back, while puffing up and shaking their wings in the spray. The motion of the wings threw droplets everywhere, and the feathers ruffling made a patter of wet slapping sounds. It was exactly the same as sparrows bathing in a birdbath, and was so, so inelegant that Ella fell into hysterics as well.

The angels continued fluffing their wings and throwing sprays of water into the air for several minutes, before Lucifer straightened up and caught sight of their audience.

“It’s the best way to get wings clean!” he protested.

“What happened? Did someone tell a joke?” asked Raphael.

“We’re the joke, brother,” grumbled Lucifer.

-----------

The humans switched into dry clothes, but most of the angels lounged around the patio in their swimsuits, unbothered by the cool mountain air.

A few groups splintered off. Sara invited Dan to take a walk around the lake, and Trixie took Raphael into the kitchen and began teaching him the ways of the waffle iron. Chloe attempted to take a nap, but her plans were derailed when Lucifer decided give her the promised massage.

Ella, meanwhile, sought out Michael and found him in the kitchen, carefully adding one of every available snack food to a plate. In the background, Trixie was explaining to Raphael how to crack eggs.

“Avoiding Doritos, are we?” she asked Michael.

“I’m taking a break from capsaicin at the moment,” he said with a smile.

“So, I was wondering—” Ella started then broke off after noticing just how shiny the kitchen island was. “Did you guys polish the counter when you were cleaning it up?”

Michael looked sheepish. “We accidentally destroyed most of it when we were cleaning it. I meant to break down the matter of just the grime from the explosion, but I accidentally took the top centimeter of rock off instead. So Sam and I made a new one.”

“You just… made marble?”

“I mean, compared to making the sun, it was a piece of cake. What was it you were wondering, by the way?”

But Ella’s brain had experienced a blue screen of death.

“You made the sun…” she said faintly.

“Yeah, Sam and I made most of the universe. Are you alright, Ella?”

“I think I need to sit down.”

Michael took Ella by the elbow and led her to one of the bar stools, before lifting her onto it as if she weighed nothing.

“I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t say things like that casually, should I? I’m still learning about what’s okay to say around humans and what isn’t.”

His self-deprecating tone was enough to get Ella’s brain restarted, although it felt a bit like a choking car engine.

“No, no, it’s okay, Michael. You don’t have to hide parts of yourself when you’re with me,” she said, laying a hand on his forearm. “I’m just going to need a bit of time to get used to some things. Like the fact I kissed the person who made the sun.”

Michael reached across the counter and snagged his snack plate with one finger, before pushing it towards Ella.

“May I offer you an Oreo? I’ve decided those ones are great. Whoever invented them should be canonized.”

Ella snorted a little and took the Oreo.

“I think part of what I’m having trouble with is the fact that the being who made the sun can’t eat a spicy Dorito.”

“You say that like it’s some small feat. That thing nearly set my mouth on fire, I swear.”

Ella took in his indignant expression and giggled. He is defined by who he is now, not just his past actions, she told herself. This version of him isn’t some sort of cover or mask, it’s real.

“What I came to ask, and I hope this isn’t rude or anything, but Chloe didn’t think it would be, but I wasn’t sure, so if the answer’s ‘no’ then that’s fine, just tell me, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or degrade you or anything like that, so if this is rude just let me know—”

“Will this sentence end by the time we leave tomorrow? It’s fine if it won’t, but I’ll need to make some extra room in my schedule,” said Michael, with a small smile.

Ella blushed, then blurted, “Will you take me flying?”

Michael blinked. “That’s it? I was starting to think you were going to ask me to dress up in my armor and pose for a portrait or something like that. Of course I’ll take you flying.”

Ella’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh good, I knew it would probably be okay, but I didn’t want— Didyoujustsayyouhavearmor?” The question was said at a far louder volume than the rest.

“Well yeah, I was effectively a general for most of my life. I haven’t had much cause to wear it lately, but I keep it in good condition.” Michael paused and looked closer at Ella. “Did Sam give you some sort of psychoactive substance? Because your pupils just dilated, like, a lot.”

Ella was about to grab his stupid, handsome turtleneck and kiss his stupid, handsome face, but was reminded that they weren’t alone by the sound of Raphael dropping a bowl on the floor.

“Okay, I think I should explain what ‘a good stir’ means,” said Trixie.

Ella pulled Michael close so she could whisper in his ear, “Take me flying, Michael.”

Chapter Text

When dinnertime rolled around, Dan fired up the grill. He’d brought the fixings for hot dogs and hamburgers as his contribution to the potluck. Ella had a shocking number of tamales, the Doctor a fruit salad, and Chloe three trays of brownies with ice cream. True to his word, Michael had made, or perhaps procured a lasagna, which Chloe eyed with suspicion, before putting it in the oven to reheat. There were also waffles, courtesy of Trixie and Raphael, who was beaming with pride when he presented them.

The various guests began drifting towards the tables. The last to join was Michael, who landed on the patio with Ella in his arms and a smile on his face. Chloe wasn’t sure, but their hair looked slightly more mussed than it would have been just due to the windy nature of flight.

Once everyone had gathered and Dan began distributing burgers and hot dogs from the grill, Lucifer placed one the beribboned bottles of angel-strength liquor on the table.

“As Jophiel demonstrated so wonderfully this morning, this stuff is potent, brothers and sisters. Far be it from me to curtail anyone’s enjoyment of spirits, but I would recommend that everyone begin with a shot, and sip it slowly,” said Lucifer, placing tumblers on the table.

“And as Michael and Lucifer demonstrated today as well,” added Chloe, “do not mix that stuff with… anything.”

“Sweet,” said Jophiel, holding a tumbler out to Lucifer. “Beer me, bro.”

“Well, no one can fault your consistency, at least,” said Lucifer, pouring him a few fingers.

The effects of the alcohol became slowly apparent throughout the meal, as the frequency of giggling increased.

Amenadiel volunteered to be the sober, responsible one who would look after Charlie so Linda, Dan, Ella, and Chloe could join in with a bottle of wine which rapidly became several.

Taking a hesitant bite of Michael’s lasagna, Chloe brightened and said, “Wow, Michael, this is actually really good!”. She winced as she realized how underhanded the compliment sounded, but Michael just replied, eyes bright with tipsiness, “I discovered the Food Network a few weeks ago. It is the apex of human civilization. You lot will never top it.”

All the food was well-received, but Ella’s tamales were generally agreed to be the best.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put some salsa on it?” Ella prodded Michael. “There’s a jar of mild.”

“Oh, I found some salsa earlier that I actually really like!” exclaimed Michael. “It’s barely spicy at all.”

To Ella’s eyes, the next few seconds happened in slow motion. Michael reached out and grabbed—Dios mio—the ketchup bottle, flipping the lid open and squirting a liberal covering on his tamale.

The only other person who had noticed Michael’s choice of condiment was Dan, whose eyes were wide with horror. Ella realized her jaw was hanging open and snapped it shut, then met Dan’s gaze.

“He must be the world’s best boyfriend, if you’re willing to put up with that,” Dan muttered.

Ella blushed, thinking of the time that afternoon she and Michael had spent in a high mountain meadow, surrounded by wildflowers. They hadn’t gone much further than the fumbling one might expect from high schoolers, but Michael was a quick learner and very eager to please.

“I have an idea that could help with Charlie’s wing situation, Linda,” said Saraqael, her cheeks flushed with mild intoxication. “He’ll learn to keep his wings in soon enough, but until them, I could look after him when you and Amenadiel are unavailable.”

“Oh, Sara, that’s sweet, but we have a friend, Maze, who can babysit sometimes.”

“The demon Mazikeen? You would trust your baby to hellspawn?” said Sara, a look of disgust on her face.

“Maze is our friend, Sara,” interjected Amenadiel. “She’d give her life for Charlie.”

“Still, she knows nothing about the care of wings. I do.”

Linda thought it over for a few moments. It wasn’t a terrible idea.

“So I could just pray to you when we need it, and you would come?” she asked.

“That would work, although…” she paused, looking uncertain. “I’ve been considering coming to Earth to stay for a while.”

Lucifer and Amenadiel’s heads snapped up.

“I hope this isn’t because of a certain douchey individual,” said Lucifer. “You only just met him and, believe me, he’s not worth relocating.”

Sara’s eyes darted toward the other end of the table, where Dan was laughing at something Trixie had said.

“Not really, though I would enjoy getting to know him more. This has been on my mind since Amenadiel chose to return. Today has only shown me just how much I am missing out on.”

“You would of course be welcome,” said Chloe, scooping more fruit salad onto her plate. “But keep in mind that not everything on Earth is nice. It’s not all lake houses and paddle boats and cookouts. There are bad things too, of course. Crime and greed and… and…”

“Explosions and people passing out drunk and having shouting matches?” said Sara, one eyebrow cocked. It was identical to an expression Lucifer frequently wore, and Chloe couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

As dinner wrapped up, half the guests helped clear the table, while the other half moved chairs around the patio’s fire pit and set out supplies for making s’mores. Jophiel was already unsteady on his feet, and Zadkiel’s speech had become slurred, but both flopped down into chairs beside the unlit bonfire.

“So you can use a toasting fork, or you can just find a long straight stick somewhere, and you stick your marshmallows on it,” lectured Trixie to a group of fascinated angels. “If you want to do it properly, you have to wait until the fire is just coals, so you can toast the marshmallow.”

“You say that as if there is an alternative, improper way to do it,” said Castiel.

“Some people like theirs burned, but I think it that’s super gross,” said Trixie, pulling a face. “Roasted marshmallows should be golden brown.”

“Come on!” said Dan from where he knelt by the firepit, carefully balancing logs against each other. “Burned marshmallows are great!”

Trixie rolled her eyes for her audience’s benefit.

A few minutes after Trixie had explained proper s’more assembly technique (and Dan had interrupted to explain that you use a quarter of a chocolate bar, not half), Castiel leaned over Dan to watch as he futilely flicked a lighter next to a firestarter.

“Will that device produce a flame?” he asked.

“Well, it’s supposed to. I think it’s almost out of fluid.” He shook the lighter next to his ear and sighed. “I guess I’ll go find some matches.”

“Why do you not ask Lucifer?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot he smokes,” said Dan, standing and brushing his knees. He was about to go inside to find out where Lucifer had disappeared to, but Castiel pressed his palms together in front of him with his eyes closed, and Lucifer appeared beside them a second later, scotch tumbler in hand.

“Not a request I expected, Cassie,” he said, eyebrow cocked.

“Daniel’s fire-creating device is out of fuel, brother,” said Castiel.

The Devil turned to the fire and squinted, and flames roared up from the logs, high enough that Dan jumped back to avoid getting singed.

“What the Hell, man?” he exclaimed.

“Oddly enough, this is more a case of ‘what the Heaven’, Daniel. I haven’t used that particular skill in several millennia.”

“Is that some sort of Devil power?” Dan’s eyes were side.

“No, it’s some sort of angel power, as I said. Have you ever looked up what ‘Lucifer’ actually means?”

Dan shook his head.

“’Light-bringer’, or ‘light-bearer’. I was tasked by my Father with bringing light to the universe. As you can imagine, the Catholics tend not to draw attention to that fact. It was my title, long before I was the Devil.”

“Oh. Huh.” Dan wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Yeah, my priest growing up never said anything that made you sound cool.”

“You think my name’s meaning sounds… ‘cool’?” Lucifer asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, yeah. ‘Light-bearer’. It’s cool as, heh, Hell,” Dan said with shrug.

Lucifer blinked, unsure of how to take a genuine compliment from someone with whom he had such an antagonistic relationship.

“Well, that’s, uh—I mean, thank you Daniel,” he said finally.

They eyed eachother for a moment longer, before Dan clapped his hands together, breaking the tension.

“All right,” he said. “Where’s my marshmallow fork?”

-----------

The angels broke into song again around the campfire, once again plunging the humans into long-buried memories. Lucifer kept shooting looks at Castiel, whose voice nearly overpowered all the others, and the bearded angel would sing quieter for about a minute before his voice rose to its previous volume.

Long after night had fallen and the sky was filled with twinkling stars, the song changed into something sounding like a lullaby which instantly made Chloe’s eyelids droop. Trixie actually nodded off, which Chloe was grateful for because it made it easy to persuade her to go to bed. The angels had been taking shots in between songs, and the party was promising to become rather boozy.

After Trixie, Amenadiel, and Charlie turned in for the night, Lucifer turned on a sound system with speakers hidden around the patio. The volume was set so that that the music wouldn’t disturb the sleepers and it was easy to talk over, but it was loud enough for that the center of the patio became an impromptu dancefloor.

Several of the angels as well as all the humans bar Chloe got up to partake, and Chloe was relieved to see that the angels weren’t all as gifted at dancing as they were at singing. Zadkiel and Saraqael had some moves, but Remi was rigid even as she danced, Gabriel’s dancing involved frequent vigorous windmilling of her arms, and Castiel had shockingly bad rhythm. He was completely undeterred, however, and was the most enthusiastic dancer of the group.

Eventually Lucifer was able to cajole Chloe onto the floor, and she remembered just how much fun it was to dance with him.

When she stopped to refill her drink after several songs, she was approached by Ella, who had achieved a pleasant buzz.

“Chloe! I gotta question for you!”

Okay, maybe more than a buzz.

“Shoot. You know I’m an open book,” said Chloe. She had also had several glasses of wine by now.

“You might not like it,” said Ella, grinning over the rim of her glass. “It’s about you and Lucifer.”

“I have talked to you about me and Lucifer a million times, Ella. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Okay, here goes.” And Ella leaned forward and adopted what she probably thought was a whisper. “Does he ever keep his wings out?”

Chloe furrowed her brow.

“Not really, no. I mean, obviously he can’t have them out in public, and they’re a little big for most rooms indoors.”

“Nononono, that’s not whaddai meant. Like does he ever keep them out during… you know?” Ella waggled her eyebrows and made a couple arrhythmic thrusting motions with her hips.

“Oh! Oh. Uh.” Chloe looked around, but no one was paying them any mind. She then dropped her voice to a proper whisper. “Yeah, sometimes.”

Ella let out a squeal.

“Shhhh! Not so loud.” Chloe winced. “Lucifer has a really complicated relationship with his wings, so he was super hesitant when I asked. But he tried it and well—” The fact that Chloe wasn’t blushing profusely was testament to how much she had had to drink. “It turns out that parts of them are reaaaaaally sensitive. In a good way.” She waggled her eyebrows just as Ella had done earlier.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Ella looked like Christmas had come early for her.

The alcohol had truly loosened Chloe’s tongue, because she didn’t stop. “The bits right where his wings connect with his back drive him wild, but sometimes I just grab whatever I can and enjoy the ride.”

“Darling, are you discussing our intimate life with Miss Lopez?” Lucifer appeared behind Chloe at the worst possible time. “Because if so, I’m hurt that you left me out. Now what salacious details are you after, Miss Lopez?”

Ella didn’t even have the courtesy to blush.

“I was wundrin’ if you ever kept your wings out when you and Decker are getting it on.”

“Oh yes, it’s a rather new experience for me.” The Devil was gleeful. “But I’ve found they’re great for giving me a bit more leverage and force. Sometimes, when the Detective is—” He stopped, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re only asking because of your… situation with Michael, aren’t you?”

Ella shrugged and gestured to Lucifer’s back. “I wanted to get the inside scoop on what those bad boys were good for, so sue me.”

Lucifer made a gagging sound. “I would be quite invested in this conversation if it were anyone but him,” he said.

“Well, you better get used to it,” countered Ella hotly, “because when I get that angel naked, I’m gonna grab those wings, climb aboard, and ride him ‘til the cows come home!”

Ella realized too late that her voice had risen above the conspiratorial level she had started at, and several nearby guests, including Michael, had stopped to stare.

“When do cows usually come home?” asked Raphael, missing the point as usual.

A blush crept up Michael’s neck to his face.

Dan, who was closest to him, elbowed the angel in the ribs jovially. “Sounds like you’re in for a good time, if you don’t mess this up, buddy.”

“Michael, I didn’t mean—” Ella started, then stopped. “Actually, I did mean it, I just didn’t mean to drunkenly shout it at your twin during a party.”

Michael seemed to be debating something, then he came to a decision.

“Do you want to touch my wings?” he asked, stepping closer.

“More than anything, dude,” said Ella.

The corners of Michael’s mouth twitched upwards.

“Then let’s go somewhere private.”

Ella’s pupils dilated instantly, and the next thing Michael knew, a tiny hand was fisted in the front of his turtleneck and was dragging him through the house towards the hallway with the bedrooms.

“Oh, that is not a mental image I needed today,” said Lucifer, sipping his drink with an expression of disgust.

“I think it’s kinda sweet,” said Chloe. “Wanna dance some more?”

At his answering grin, she grabbed one of his lapels to tug him along, mirroring how Ella had treated Michael.

-----------

By the time Michael rejoined the party several hours later, the music had been turned off, and the dance floor was empty. The guests had either fallen asleep on the various items of patio furniture, or they had broken off into small groups to have the kind of intimate conversations that are only possible when it’s late at night and the world seems to shrink to a small bubble surrounding you and your companions.

Dan and Linda were beside the fire pit, requiring its warmth to stave off the night chill. Gabriel, Saraqael, and Azrael were with them. Gabriel was chattering away as normal, although her speech was slurred and now accompanied by wide gesticulations. She was oblivious to the fact that Linda had long since passed out on her shoulder and was starting to drool, occasionally getting jostled by Gabriel’s illustrative hand motions. Dan barely heard a word Gabriel said, as he worked up the courage to put one of his hands on that of the tall blonde angel beside him.

Chloe and Lucifer were on one of the patio’s sofas Lucifer had his head tilted back, admiring his stars, and Chloe was curled up next to him, head in his lap. She hadn’t yet begun to snore, but Lucifer knew it was only a matter of time. He’d had Raphael grab him a blanket from inside, which he’d draped over her form.

Michael looked at the figures dotted around the patio, then made his way towards his twin. He hadn’t had a drink in a while, but the celestial liquor had yet to leave his system.

“Cherry popped, brother?” asked Lucifer.

At Michael’s quizzical expression, he tried again.

“Have you lost your V-card? Have you and Miss Lopez done the horizontal tango? Made the beast with two backs? Played ‘hide the—'”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” replied Michael. “I mean, no, we haven’t,” he amended. “But she let me touch her a lot. She’s so soft, Sam.”

He dropped down onto the sofa on Lucifer’s other side, sandwiching the Devil between himself and the Detective. Lucifer was surprised at how close he chose to sit. He was even more surprised when Michael dropped his head onto his shoulder. They hadn’t sat like that since… well, a long time ago.

“Dad did a great job when he made women, didn’t he?” murmured Michael.

Lucifer sighed. “Yes, even I have to give him credit for that.” He stroked the Detective’s hair. “They are wonderful.”

“And her eyes are so pretty, Sam—” Michael cut himself off, swallowed and corrected himself. “—Lucifer.”

Lucifer’s hand stilled. His twin had never used his chosen name before, but now that he had…

“You can call me ‘Sam’, brother,” he said, so quiet it was hardly more than a breath. “Not the full version, but ‘Sam’.”

For a few minutes there was silence between them, and they listened to the breeze in the trees surrounding the lake. Lucifer resumed stroking his Detective’s hair.

Then Michael spoke up, and it was even quieter than Lucifer had been. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“What for, brother?” There was certainly a laundry list of hurt between the twins.

Michael was silent for a while, then he whispered, “For the Fall.”

Lucifer froze, his hand in the Detective’s hair, his breath caught in his throat.

“I didn’t think you were right for the rebellion—I still don’t. But what I did was… horrible. I should have found a third path,” his brother continued after a moment.

“I’m not sure there was a third path,” said Lucifer after a pause of his own.

“Then I should have made one. Please forgive me, Sam.”

Lucifer couldn’t see Michael’s face, but he could see his black locks, identical to his own, out of the corner of his eye. The weight of Michael’s head on his shoulder felt just as right as the weight of Chloe’s head in his lap.

But there was so much history between them. He remembered the broken wings, the centuries in the lake of fire, every part of him burning. He remembered the desperate prayers to his father, his siblings, his twin—

“Did you hear my prayers as I burned, brother?” Lucifer asked, but his tone was not accusatory.

“Yes,” said Michael. “I did not sleep well for… well, ever again. I cried, I begged Father, I took out my hurt on our siblings. I had dreams where Father gave me permission to go after you, to pull you out of that lake. When I woke up my heart would break anew. I hated myself for what I did. I think I still do.”

Lucifer felt a patch of warm dampness seeping into his shirt beneath his twin’s head, but he made no comment.

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. On the far side of the patio, Gabriel had finally fallen quiet.

“I forgive you, Michael.” said Lucifer.

Michael pulled himself closer to his twin, and Lucifer let him cry silently for a while. When his twin’s shoulders stopped hitching, he spoke again.

“I would ask your forgiveness as well, brother.”

“What for?”

“I knew my rebellion would force you to decide between me and Father, and on some level I knew you could never oppose Him. Rebellion is part of who I am, but not part of you, and I knew that.”

“You would have been miserable if you had forgone your rebellion for my sake, Sam. You needed to stand up for what you believed in. I can see that, even though I… disagree with those beliefs.”

“Then I should have found a third path,” said Lucifer. “Or made one. I put you through pain just as you did me. A different sort of pain, but pain nonetheless.”

They were silent for a few seconds before Lucifer whispered, "Please forgive me, Michael."

“I forgive you, Sam,” said Michael without hesitation, and it felt to both brothers that something had been righted in the universe.

Lucifer manifested his wings and wrapped one around his brother, and one around his Detective, who had finally begun to snore, and they sat watching the stars pinwheeling overhead.

Dan and Linda had gone inside, and their siblings had all drifted off to sleep when Lucifer finally lifted his wing from around Michael.

“Go to your lady love, brother,” he said. “Hold her close.”

Michael pressed close against his brother once more, in a type of armless hug, before he stood and went back into the house.

He slipped into the room where he had left Ella earlier and was surprised to see Azrael sitting cross-legged on the foot of the bed, watching over Ella as she slept. The angel smiled at her brother and swung her legs off the bed to stand and leave. As she passed Michael, she put a hand on his forearm and met his eyes.

“Take care of her, Mikey. She’s special.” She was gone before he could reply.

-----------

A couple hours earlier

Ella felt like she had closed her eyes for just a moment, enjoying the soft cocoon of feathers around her when she blinked her eyes open again, and found that Michael was gone and the bedside light out. She felt the very start of the usual embarrassment and anger after finding a guy was only interested in one night before she realized that that wasn’t the most likely scenario playing out here.

He's not used to human customs, she thought. I never invited him, and this is ‘my’ room, as far as he knows.

She snuggled down into the blankets, thinking back to the wonderful time she had just had. She was still fully dressed, but they had hit second base this time. It had seemed like both an eternity and no time at all that she had spent in his embrace with her fingers buried in his wings. The black feathers had been silky smooth but soft. She particularly enjoyed sinking her hands in just below the upper edge of the wing and feeling the heat from the skin there. It was a reminder that the limbs were very real, and not some clever cosplay props.

She had taken Chloe’s information and run with it, quickly finding a particular spot on the wings, close to Michael’s back. When she stroked firmly into the feathers, the angel made the most wonderful sounds. She was going to have so much fun with him, she was sure of it.

It felt strange, after Pete, to be diving into a relationship so quickly. Every now and then her brain would remind her that she had known the man for less than forty-eight hours. Unlike any human male, however, Michael had been created, and therefore vetted, by the absolute highest of authorities. Besides, she hadn’t felt this kind of connection with someone in… ever, she realized with a start. As Trixie had put it, she like-liked him.

Her mind drifted back to just twenty-four hours previously, when she and Michael had sat together in the hot tub, and the universe had shrunk down to the two of them and the stars above. She had become worried, near panicked about the state of her soul, and Michael had taken it completely in stride, talking her down but giving her real, tangible help.

Speaking of… she had thought about how she was going to start to probe her darker side, in the hope of accepting it. Rae Rae might think this was odd, but she had been pretty sloshed when Ella had last seen her, so hopefully she’d help anyhow.

Ella had swung one leg over the side of the bed and grimaced when her bare foot met the chill air outside the covers when she was struck by a thought. If she’s an angel…

Ella clasped her hands in front of her as she had many times before throughout her life, but this time she had a face in her mind’s eye as she directed her thoughts.

Rae Rae, she thought. Can you hear me? Could you come in to my room for a minute—I want to ask you something.

She let her hands drop, then considered that maybe she needed to use her friend’s proper name to make sure the prayer got to where it was supposed to go. She brought her hands together again, and repeated the prayer, preceding it with “Azrael” this time.

She was starting to think it hadn’t worked when there was a knock at her door, and the Angel of Death’s head popped in. “Ella?”

“It worked!”

“Yep!” said Azrael, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. “Direct the thought with my name, and I’ll hear you.”

She made her way to the bed, coordinated enough that Ella thought maybe she had sobered up completely, but then she flopped down onto the duvet face-first and began rubbing her cheek against the cotton.

“So soft,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the bedspread.

“Uh, Rae Rae—” began Ella, but she was interrupted by the angel sitting bolt upright, staring at the bed in horror.

“Did you and Mike? Here? I mean, you and him?”

Ella snorted. “No, we didn’t.”

Azrael relaxed, but crossed her legs and stayed sitting upright.

“Okay, good. I mean, not good that you and him didn’t, because that’s really none of my business, and I don’t mind if you do. Dad knows the guy is wound tighter than a rubber band ball, but—”

“Rae Rae,” Ella interrupted her friend, a smile playing about her lips. “We just cuddled.”

Rae Rae stopped her rambling and blew out a breath, her head dropping. When she met her friend’s eyes again, she was smiling as well.

“I’ll get used to it, Lopez. I promise,” she said, before leaning forward conspiratorially. “I just saw him out there, cuddling with Lu. It was really sweet. I haven’t seen him look that relaxed since, well…” She blinked as a realization dawned. “Not since before the Fall.”

“I think it’s been a while since he felt like he had someone in his corner,” said Ella.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” said Rae Rae. “Anywho, what was it you wanted to ask?”

“Oh yeah!” Ella sat up a little straighter. “So this might sound a little weird, but could you tell me about some of the worst deaths you’ve seen?”

Rae Rae’s nose wrinkled. “Don’t you see plenty of that at work already? I see really awful stuff like that all the time, Ella. Gruesome deaths, sad deaths, even the occasional funny death.” Her mouth twitched at a memory. “Like, in the eighties there was this woman who was trying to invent a more efficient way to wash windows, and you know how back then women’s suits had those huge shoulder pads? Well, she made a machine with a spring that—"

“Rae Rae,” said Ella, cutting her friend off. “I want to hear that story at some point, I really do, but right now I want to hear about the really bad ones.” Ella floundered a little at her friend’s confused look, as she tried to figure out how to explain this. “Mike’s helping me kinda… balance out my soul. I always say that I took my job because I like the science and I like helping victims get closure and justice, but that’s not the whole truth. I’ve always been fascinated by death, even when it’s horrible and gruesome. But I try to pretend that I’m not, and apparently that’s causing some issues.”

Rae Rae gave her friend a calculating look, then shrugged. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it. But tell me to stop if it gets to be too much. Let’s see… wars are always bad, of course. I know you Americans are always talking about the second world war, but man, 1918 was a bad year for a lot of people…”

And Rae Rae began talking. She talked about mustard gas and shrapnel and the Spanish Flu. Then she started on shipwrecks and broken dams, serial killers and the Inquisition, starvation, earthquakes, the plague, drunk drivers. It was clear she could go on forever.

And Ella listened. She felt sorry for the victims of these horrible circumstance, of course. What they went through was awful! But she was also fascinated. And for the first time, instead of burying this fascination under layers of empathy, sympathy, and care, she tried to embrace it. She asked questions and listened to the answers without a look of disgust, which she now realized she usually only put on for show.

And it felt right. It was a new feeling—unfamiliar, but comfortable.

Rae Rae also enjoyed having someone to tell these things to; her siblings never wanted to hear about her work. She was halfway through a story of the soul of a man who had been buried alive when she realized that Ella’s eyes were drooping. This was one hell of a bedtime story, apparently. She lowered her voice a little to a soothing pitch as she continued, and before she even got to talking about how the term “lifeboat” was a misnomer from her perspective, Ella’s breath had evened out and her eyes had closed.

Rae Rae stopped talking and sat in silence, enjoying the company of her sleeping friend and the warm buzz of the alcohol still in her body. It had really been one heck of a day, and she knew she would cherish the memories forever.

A soft sound announced Michael’s entrance, and Azrael ceded the room to her brother. Ella was going to be all right.

Chapter Text

Ella awoke to the sound of rain and… a finger poking her cheek? She opened her eyes, and blurry shapes resolved into Trixie’s face. She furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but Trixie put a finger to her lips then moved towards the door, a wide grin plastered on her face as she gestured for Ella to follow. Ella sat up and heard a hazy mumble behind her. The other side of the bed was occupied by a lump with a shock of black curls emerging from the top. He came back! She allowed herself a smile. Part of her wanted to curl up against her angel, molding her front to his back and holding on like a barnacle, but Trixie’s waving from the door convinced her to slip out of the covers and into her slippers.

In the hallway, she found Dan, Chloe and Linda. Linda and Chloe were both wearing bedhead with a side of hangover. Dan had the tousled look and pale face of the hungover, but he had a grin to match his daughter’s.

“Dan, what is this about?” asked Chloe. She wasn’t a morning person until a cup of two or coffee.

“You’ll see,” said Dan in a whisper. “But keep your voices down or you’ll wake them!”

“Or make me hurl,” said Linda, whose cheeks had a green tinge to them.

“Wake who?” asked Ella.

“Just come on. It’s the best thing ever!” Trixie grabbed the side of Ella’s sleep t-shirt and began pulling her down the hallway, the other humans following.

They made it out to the open area containing the living room and kitchen. The coffee machine was still in pieces, but the kitchen looked far better than it had about twenty hours previously when the bottle of liquor had exploded. The twins had done a good job of patching things up, and there was no sign of the carnage that had recently taken place there.

Trixie gestured in the other direction, towards the picture window that looked out onto the lake. The day was promising to be gloomy; the sky was hung with low clouds, and the patio was wet from the autumn drizzle. In front of the window was—

Ella blinked several times, trying to understand what she was seeing. It looked like a heap of wings, piled between the sofa and the fireplace. The heap was snoring lightly.

When Ella recognized Remiel’s sandal-clad foot sticking out from below a dove-grey wing and the mop of Castiel’s red hair contrasting with a splay of raven feathers, Ella realized what she the heap was: all of the angels piled together to sleep. It took all of her self-control to keep from squealing and jumping up and down. Instead, she let her jaw drop open in a silent shriek of delight which Trixie retuned with enthusiastic nodding. Linda had forgotten about her hangover and pulled out her phone to document the spectacle. Chloe was doubled over, one of her fists in her mouth to silence her laughter. Dan was keeping silent, but one hand was clapped over his mouth and the corners of his eyes were stained with tears of mirth.

There was a snort and mumble from the pile, and one of the black wings flicked about, tussling Castiel’s hair.

Ella pressed her hands to her mouth, feeling like she would burst from the cuteness of it all.

“What are you all— Oh, for the love of Dad,” Lucifer’s voice came from behind them, making them all jump. “Really? How would you like it if I snuck into your rooms and took pictures of all of you while you were sleeping?” he hissed.

Linda guiltily stuffed her phone into a pocket, but the others were unabashed.

“C’mon Luce, it’s adorable,” said Ella. She tried to keep her voice low, but it had jumped up a register in her excitement.

Lucifer rolled his eyes “Adorable? It’s purely practical! Angel wings are like armor, so sleeping like this serves a defensive purpose, not to mention the conservation of warmth…”

“Dude, that’s literally how kittens sleep,” said Dan.

“In a cuddle puddle!” Ella’s voice was way too loud that time.

Zadkiel’s head poked out from the top of the “cuddle puddle”.

“Wass’t? Whattime issit?” he asked muzzily.

“Early, Zad,” replied Lucifer. “Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” his brother mumbled, and his head dropped out of sight beneath the layer of wings.

Lucifer stared at the spot his brother’s head had disappeared to before finally admitting, “Okay, it’s a little cute.”

The humans spent a few more minutes admiring the angels’ preferred sleeping arrangement (and taking more photos), before they retreated back to their rooms to begin getting ready for the day or to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

Michael was still out cold, but he roused as Ella slipped back into the bed with him.

“Where were you?” he asked, lifting his head enough to watch her with one sleepy eye.

“Admiring your siblings’ cuddle puddle,” said Ella, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders to keep off the morning chill.

“’Cuddle puddle’,” repeated Michael in confusion before realization dawned and he flipped to his other side to face her fully and continue in an offended tone. “Cuddle puddle! Sleeping like that serves several purposes! Firstly— what?” He broke off. Ella was staring at him, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Did Sam draw something on my face again?”

“No, it’s just…” Ella reached out and gently stroked down from his forehead, across his nose to the top of one cheek. It was the path his scar took. “Your scar’s almost gone.”

Michael went still. “It has been evening out the past couple months.”

“No Michael, it’s barely there at all!”

Michael jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror, only to find that Ella was correct: the area where the wound had been a healed yet prominent scar was instead nearly smooth skin. If he tilted his face into the light just right he could see a textural difference where the mark had been, the path ever-so slightly shiny. Nonetheless, the face staring back at him was his familiar, old face. The one he shared with Sam.

“Is this some sort of angelic healing thing?” asked Ella. She had trailed Michael to the bathroom and was leaning against the doorframe.

“Not really. It’s a self-actualization thing.” Michael reached up and ran a hand over what was left of the mark. If he pressed on the skin, the scar stayed slightly redder than the surrounding area. He stepped back and tried to take in the whole picture. He hadn’t really minded the scar much; he wasn’t vain, unlike certain other angels. “I got that scar from… well, it was the nadir of my relationship with Sam. I thought at that point that what we had had as brothers had been destroyed forever. I thought there was no going back. Then last night, we talked and—” Why was it suddenly hard to swallow? “—and we forgave each other.”

The Sword of God looked once more at his restored face, before he turned to Ella and, to his complete and eternal humiliation, burst into tears.

-----------

When Chloe and Lucifer emerged from their room fully-dressed, they found that Raphael, of all angels, had taken over the kitchen to again demonstrate his newfound abilities in the human art of making waffles.

Chloe personally felt waffled-out, having had them for breakfast and dinner yesterday, but she couldn’t complain in the face of Raphael’s enthusiasm. She did note that Amenadiel stayed close to the kitchen, and seemed to be keeping one eye on the culinary machinations of his brother even as he talked with his siblings and made a cup of herbal tea for Linda.

Chloe pulled out strawberries from the fridge and began cutting them up. She had a decent view of Lucifer, who was standing by the windows and frowning out at the rain. What had started as a light drizzle had become a proper downpour, and the sky was a foreboding iron color that suggested the storm wasn’t going to let up any time soon. A few moments later he waved over Gabriel, who had spent the night in the room she had claimed on Friday and now had an adorable case of bedhead, and spoke to her. She nodded and disappeared.

“Trix!” said Chloe to her daughter, who was sharing a sofa with Azrael and giggling. “Could you finish cutting up these strawberries? I have to talk to Lucifer.”

She handed the knife off and approached Lucifer, who had resumed glaring at the gloomy weather.

“I thought you said you had a sibling who could keep it from raining. Bariel? Billiel?”

“Batriel, yes,” confirmed Lucifer. “I just sent Gabriel to go get her. She’ll be able to clear it right up.”

“So weather is her, uh, thing?”

“Pretty much, yes. Fluid dynamics, weather, ocean currents. She’s also one of the angels that deals with chaos and chance. There are a couple of them.”

“Huh.”

Before Chloe could ask another question, Gabriel reappeared. Flying had done nothing for her coiffure, and the now-windswept curls only highlighted the patch of hair that was flattened to her head.

“Batriel says she’s busy, Luce,” said Gabriel.

“And you told her that she owes me one because of the whole Ming Dynasty thing, right?”

“I did. She says…” Gabriel hesitated a bit. “She says she’ll be available tomorrow, though.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “Did she look busy when you found her, Gabby?”

Gabriel pursed her lips together as if trying to keep something from popping out of her mouth, but she gave up with very little resistance.

“Okay, no! She wasn’t. But she said she’d been meaning to help Duma reorganize the library anyhow.” Lucifer continued glaring at his sister until she finally admitted, “She said, I quote: ‘If that asshole wanted my help, he should have invited me’.”

Lucifer groaned. “What did you say about the weekend so far?”

“Nothing! Well, okay, when I went up yesterday to tell everyone about Charlie’s wings, I told everyone about the breakfast and the paddleboat and Rafael taking apart the coffee machine. Everyone wanted to know if we were going to do this again, and if they could come.” She directed the last comment towards Chloe.

“Well, you can go back up and tell Batriel that if she doesn’t get her feathered ass down here—” Lucifer began, but Chloe cut him off.

“She kinda has a point, babe.” She shrugged at Lucifer’s affronted look. “You don’t host a party then expect someone who wasn’t invited to pitch in for the beer.”

“But Detective, the rain! The weekend will be ruined!”

Chloe resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at his dramatics. Fortunately, Ella had just arrived in the room and heard the tail end of the conversation.

“There’s tons of stuff to do inside on a rainy day! Let me go get my board games!” She was about to dart back to her room, but paused and turned back to the group including Chloe, Lucifer and Gabriel. “Head’s up, it’s probably best not to call too much attention to Mike’s face. He’s still processing it.” Then she left, before anyone could ask her what she meant.

Chloe looked to Lucifer for clarification, but he just shrugged. “Maybe he’s finally realized that he’s never going to be as good-looking as me.” Chloe gave him an eyeroll and went to finish setting up breakfast.

-----------

Several tables had been pulled together in the house’s formal dining room (because of course any house Lucifer owned would have a formal dining room) and the place settings laid out when Ella reappeared, a small mountain of board games balanced in her arms and Michael trailing along behind her. Despite Ella’s warning, Chloe couldn’t help but stare a little, before elbowing Lucifer, who was setting out a fruit plate.

“Ow! Detective—” he began, before following her gaze and spotting his twin’s now unblemished face.

“Mikey,” he said with a tone of wonder.

“Sammy,” replied his mirror, looking awkward.

The twins just stared at each other for a few moments, neither speaking, before Mike’s mouth twisted into a grimace that Chloe had realized was his version of a smile, and Lucifer’s mouth turned up at the corners in return. He jerked his head towards one of the chairs at the table.

“I was going to sit there. Perhaps you’d like to sit next to me? With Miss Lopez, of course.”

Michael nodded his assent, his happy-smirk still in place. Behind him, Ella had dropped her games onto a sideboard and now met Chloe’s eyes. She was beaming with joy, and even did a little dance on her tiptoes in happiness.

Breakfast was great, and Raphael basked in the compliments on his waffle-making skills.

Afterwards, Lucifer continued grumbling about Batriel, making vague threats and comments about ungrateful siblings and Imperial China.

Fortunately, Ella stepped up to the plate when it came to rainy day entertainment. Before Chloe knew what was happening, the lab tech had corralled all the guests into the spacious living room, and began writing on notecards and taping said notecards to the guests’ foreheads. The angels seemed wary, but didn’t object outright. Ella’s game yesterday had been a smash hit, after all.

“Okay, everyone, this is ‘Who Am I?’, a classic human party game. Don’t look at the name on your card, and don’t tell anyone the name on their forehead.” Lucifer, apparently familiar with the game, joined in, writing a few names for his siblings as well as Ella herself. Smirking, Ella wrote a name on a card and stuck it to the Devil’s brow before continuing. “Each person is now the person written on their card, and they have to guess who they are. We will go in a circle, and each time you get to ask one yes-or-no question about who you are, then you can make one guess. Winning order is determined by how quickly you guess who you are.”

“So I must pretend to be a person, but I must also pretend to have amnesia?” asked Remiel, her forehead wrinkling beneath the taped card reading ‘Charlie’. Rae Rae and Gabriel, having apparently understood the premise better than their sister, worked to smooth over Remiel’s confusion, as well as that of a few other of their siblings. Amenadiel, meanwhile, pointed out that a few of the names Ella had chosen would be unfamiliar to the angels to whom they were assigned.

“Aw, I tried to stick with history and mythology,” said Ella, but she handed Amenadiel the pen, and he quickly rewrote a few of the cards. She squinted at the new name on Zadkiel. “I can’t even read that. What language is that?”

“Don’t worry, he knows who it is,” said Amenadiel with a grin. Jophiel read Zadkiel’s new label and let out a guffaw. Gabriel broke into giggles.

“Okay, I’ll go first,” said Ella. “Am I alive?”

“Yep,” responded Dan.

Ella’s eyes narrowed. “Brad Pitt,” she guessed finally, only to be let down.

Chloe wondered how many rounds it would be before either Ella or Lucifer realized that each had labeled the other “Misty Canyons”.

Since there were so many players, each round of the game took quite some time, and each person had several minutes in between the questions they were able to ask. This wasn’t a problem, however, because watching the angels struggle to identify the people on their cards was incredibly entertaining for their siblings as well as the humans present. Many of the guests used their first question to ask “Am I human?”, which probably wasn’t common for this game. Remiel, unfortunately, didn’t ask it, because Chloe is pretty sure the resulting hemming and hawing about whether to answer “yes” or “no” would have revealed her card to be Charlie. Instead, her first question was “Am I a being of strong moral character?”. After a bit of back-and-forth, she was given the answer “yes”.

In a surprise for Chloe, Zadkiel was the first to correctly guess the name written on his head in characters that Chloe could not read. It turned out to be the name of an Etruscan fishmonger with whom the angel Phanuel had had an awkward encounter that had become something of an inside joke to all the others. When his siblings confirmed his correct guest, all of them burst into laughter, Zadkiel included.

After several rounds filled with laughter and giggling, Chloe had guessed her identity (Cleopatra), and the only person left was Raphael, who seemed to be getting further and further from the correct answer (God). He had asked “Am I extremely powerful?” (Yes), then followed that, for some reason, with “Am I associated specifically with a large river or other body of water?” (No). Raphael mulled this over for some time before a spark of inspiration glinted in his eyes.

“Do I like beetles?”

A chorus of yeses rose from the surrounding angels.

“I’m Dad, aren’t I?” Raphael asked with a grin.

After two more rounds of the game, Ella suggested they take a break, and she would get the next game set up in the meantime.

Chloe approached Lucifer where he was topping up his tumbler.

“Thank goodness for Ella. She’s one of those people who makes any party better.”

“That she does,” Lucifer smiled, before wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. “This whole weekend has far exceeded my expectations, Detective.”

“I’m glad,” she said, lifting herself to her tiptoes so that she could plant a kiss on his cheek. She then nuzzled her face into his shoulder and inhaled the smell of his exceptionally expensive cologne. There was something she wanted to ask him, and she thought that he would say yes, but if she was wrong…

“I was thinking maybe I could arrange another get-together around Christmastime,” Lucifer said absently.

“Really?” said Chloe. “I was just about to ask if you wanted to do this again. And you do?” Even though Lucifer had said the weekend had gone better than he’d expected, she had been hesitant to bring up the idea of an encore herself. But he was a step ahead of her.

“Yes, you’ve really helped me remember… what family can be like in the good times,” he murmured as he watched Ella put a large pad of paper on an easel. It looked like the next game would be Pictionary. “I had forgotten.”

“I’m glad you’re a part of my family, Lucifer,” Chloe whispered to her Devil.

“It is my honor to be here,” he said, turning to meet her gaze. She raised herself again, and he bent down to press his lips to hers. It was a chaste kiss, but it was everything she needed and more. She would have been happy to stay there, but—

“Remi, is every single one of your suggestions just a different way to kill people?” Ella’s voice cut into Chloe and Lucifer’s bubble. They broke apart, each with a disappointed little sigh.

“I don’t see the problem. Drawing ‘disemboweling’ presents an entirely different challenge to ‘impalement’,” argued Remiel, holding up a few notecards.

-----------

They’d kept two of Remi’s suggestions in the pile of cards to be drawn for Pictionary. Castiel and Dan had the dubious honor of drawing ‘decapitation’ and ‘bloodshed’, respectively. Pictionary presented similar challenges when it came to writing options as Who Am I?, in that Trixie wanted to put in Disney Characters, the angels wanted to put in obscure historical figures and biblical events, and Dan and Lucifer tried to add references to the Bodybags franchise. In the end, Ella and Linda wrote most of the suggestions, and included a lot of animals and well-known locations as well as a few phrases that she felt were self-explanatory (this didn’t always work, however, as proven when Chloe finally guessed that Amenadiel was drawing ‘car accident’ and, after a few hushed whispers, Raphael said in a tone of realization: “Oh, it’s the cars that are having the accident! I get it now!”).

It turned out that, like dancing, God hadn’t gifted all his children with an ability to draw. In fact, most of them were terrible at it. Raphael was decent if when given something concrete and natural like apple or shell. The minute the concept became more general or abstract, such as fruit or tide, he was hopeless.

The only truly great artist among them was Michael, who could clearly draw with photo-realistic precision, but who couldn’t deal with a time constraint to save his life.

“Eyeglasses, brother?” shouted Lucifer after a particularly unsuccessful round by Michael. “Why didn’t you start by drawing the glasses? Then maybe we would have had a shot!”

Ella appeared to be holding in a giggle by sheer force of will, as Michael defended his extremely detailed outline of a single eyeball.

-----------

Before anyone was ready for it, the time had come to pack up, eat a final meal, then leave. The lunch was a smorgasbord of things made from whatever ingredients were left over in the fridge. Chloe noticed Raphael firing up the waffle iron again, and encouraged Trixie to teach him how to make grilled cheese sandwiches instead. Linda whipped up a quick fruit salad, and Lucifer made a tomato soup that had everyone’s mouths watering before it was even set on the table.

The atmosphere in the crowded dining room was jovial, and the sound of rain lashing out the windows only served to make the setting cozier. The subject of discussion turned to childhood pranks, and it rapidly became clear that Lucifer and Michael had, perhaps ironically, been little hellions back in the day. The story of how they’d made a glue-like substance then convinced Amenadiel it was a feather conditioner that would make his wings shiny seemed to be a family favorite.

“Oh, is that why you had bald patches for a while, Menny?” asked Castiel, when he was able to get enough breath in between bouts of belly laughter.

“No, that wasn’t it,” snapped Amenadiel, although Chloe spotted a jumping muscle in his jaw that suggested he was holding back a smile. “It was the second time around that I got the bald spots.”

“You fell for it twice?” asked Rae Rae, wiping tears from her eyes.

“No, sister, I did not. A few months later, after I’d finally gotten the last of that concoction out of my feathers, I woke to find that someone had glued my wings together as I slept.” He leveled a glare at Lucifer.

“As much as I wish to take credit for that one, brother, that was all Michael,” said Lucifer with a grin.

“What?” said Michael, his brows snapping down. “That wasn’t me. I thought it was you!”

“Oh come now, Mikey. Surely it’s been long enough you needn’t hide it. I was so very proud of you!” said Lucifer.

But Michael just shook his head. “Genuinely, it was not me.”

The giggles had died down, and now several of the siblings were looking at each other with amused suspicion. All except…

“Raphael?” prompted Lucifer. “Is there something you want to say?”

“You told Dad that I was sneaking out at night to catch fireflies, Menny!” exclaimed the angel. “I couldn’t go outside for a week!”

“So you glued my wings together?” asked Amenadiel, but he was now struggling not to laugh as well.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” said Raphael with a shrug.

-----------

All too soon, the humans had loaded their luggage back into the cars, and everyone gathered in the living room to say goodbye. Some of the siblings kept things stoic, with firm handshakes, but even Remiel didn’t object when Trixie threw her arms around her.

“Good hunting to you, small human,” she said, stepping back and clapping the girl on the shoulder.

Gabriel embraced everyone enthusiastically, before pulling out a small notebook and demanding that everyone write down their email addresses so that she could include them on her weekly email blasts. Chloe saw Lucifer standing over his sister’s shoulder, grimacing and urgently shaking his head, but she put her email down anyway. If worst came to worst, she could just put a filter on her inbox.

Sara pulled Dan to the side, and the two talked in low voices for a few minutes before rejoining the rest of the group, Dan with a pink tint to his cheeks.

“Okay, I will come to you Thursday evening, Linda, as we discussed,” the blonde angel said, towering over the therapist. “I am looking forward to this… baby-sitting arrangement.”

Sara gave her nephew one last pinch on the cheek, then she unfurled her wings and disappeared. The other angels—at least, those not currently residing on Earth—began following suit.

Chloe eyed the suspicious lump Raphael had pressed to his side, beneath his clothing.

“Does he think we won’t notice?” she muttered to Lucifer out of the corner of her mouth.

“You mean the power cord that’s trailing out from beneath his robe?” hissed Lucifer back.

Raphael disappeared in a flash of wings and Lucifer sighed.

“I suppose I’ll just have to buy a new waffle iron.”

-----------

The rain cleared just in time for the Earth-based guests to be able to hug one another goodbye before getting into their respective vehicles to go home. Trixie hopped into Dan’s car again, and Chloe was grateful to see his relaxed posture and the wave he sent to Amenadiel before he sped down the gravel road away from the house—there was no sign of the anxiety and tension that had marked his stance in the weeks prior.

Linda buckled a flapping Charlie into his car seat—she had gotten good at avoiding the wings—then she and Amenadiel were out of sight too.

Ella stopped for one last hug from both Lucifer and Chloe.

“Thank you so much, Chloe,” she said into her hair. “I really, really needed this right now.”

“Any time,” said Chloe, surprised to find her eyes misting up.

Ella broke the hug, then turned to Lucifer.

“And you, Satan,” she said. “No more secrets, okay? We’re family.”

“Of course, Miss Lopez,” said Lucifer. “No more secrets.”

There was a beat of silence, then, to Ella and Chloe’s complete shock, Lucifer opened his arms, inviting Ella in for one of her signature hugs. Ella dove in with a squeal.

“I always knew you were a big softie,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“I beg your pardon!” said Lucifer, but Chloe could tell it was said more as reflex than due to any actual offense.

“Well, laters!” said Ella, stepping away and climbing in to her low-slung red sports car. “And put me down for an invite to the next one!”

Gravel flew as the car sped away from them and disappeared amongst the trees, leaving Chloe and Lucifer alone.

“There will be a next one, right?” Chloe asked, making her way to the passenger door of the Bentley. They hadn’t had time to broach the subject further after the brief talk earlier that day.

“There will be several more, I think,” said Lucifer, pulling sunglasses from inside his suit jacket and dropping into the driver seat. “Assuming the others are interested.”

Chloe put her hand on top of his on the gearshift. “I think that everyone who was here is already counting down the days until they can see you again.”

Her Devil gave her a smile, almost shy and filled with hope, before he put the car into gear and shot off, hot on Ella’s tail.

Behind them, the sounds of the forest settled back around the lake house, giving no hint of the miracles that had taken place there in the previous days.

Chapter Text

A Friday in late December found Chloe working late. The case hadn’t been particularly difficult, but it had generated a surprising amount of paperwork. After about two hours of Lucifer spinning in his chair, disassembling her pens, and being of no help whatsoever, she had sent him back to Lux to make sure everything was ready for that night’s party. It was already all set-up, she knew—the food was prepared, the drinks set out, and the entire penthouse looked like something out of the holiday edition of an interior decorating magazine—but Chloe was being driven up the wall, and Lucifer would probably feel better if he could spend some time ensuring that the already immaculate garlands were draped in perfect catenaries.

She was nearly done with the arrest report when she remembered that Ella had left some evidence logs for her to sign off on. Chloe eyed her computer’s clock; if she wanted to be on time she would have to leave now, but that would mean coming in on Saturday, and she had promised Trixie that they would spend tomorrow watching Christmas movies in their pajamas.

She pulled her phone from her pocket with a sigh and sent a text.

Chloe Decker, 5:43 p.m.: Hey babe, I’m going to be a little bit late to the party. Get started without me, and try not to strangle Michael.

Lucifer Morningstar, 5:43 p.m.: ☹️

Chloe Decker, 5:44 p.m.: lol, don’t be so dramatic babe. It’ll only be 30 mins or so, and this way I won’t have to come back in tomorrow.

Lucifer Morningstar, 5:46 p.m.: Understood, Detective. I shall be waiting your arrival with bated breath.

Lucifer Morningstar, 5:48 p.m.: No promises vis-à-vis Michael and strangulation, though.

Chloe Decker, 5:48 p.m.: 🙄

Chloe Decker, 5:48 p.m.: See you soon babe. Love you 💕

Lucifer Morningstar, 5:49 p.m.: ❤️❤️❤️

Lucifer Morningstar, 5:50 p.m.: I love you too, darling.

 

And so Chloe rocked up to the party almost an hour later. She had expected guests to still be trickling in, but instead found the event in full swing.

The Christmas party was entirely Lucifer’s brainchild. He had enjoyed the lake house weekend to such an extent that Chloe hadn’t needed to push for an encore. Lucifer had gone to her for suggestions, of course, but the bulk of the planning was his alone, and he had not only doubled the number of his siblings invited but had also chosen Christmas without making comments about the holiday’s purpose of celebrating the birth of 'the Hippie', as he called his half brother.

Everyone who had been invited to the first had RSVP’d ‘yes’ again, and the new invitees had responded even more enthusiastically—apparently the lake house weekend had received such good press from the attendees that Christmas party invites were coveted items in the Silver City.

The party decorations were extravagant yet tasteful, with a fifteen-foot Christmas tree acting as the centerpiece. The penthouse walls and bookshelves were bedecked with elegant garlands, and the smells of cinnamon, pine, and apple cider mingled in the air.

Several partygoers noticed Chloe as she stepped out of the elevator. She acknowledged them with waves, intending to make her way to the closet to change out of her work clothes and change into her party attire—a flared red dress that she’d had to keep Lucifer from tearing her out of when she’d shown him the day before. She waved to Dan, where he stood chatting with Amenadiel and a pale, nearly ghostly angel she didn’t know. Trixie stood next to the bar where a chocolate fondue fountain was bubbling merrily. She had speared a strawberry on her fondue fork and was demonstrating proper fondue dipping technique, while Castiel, Zadkiel, and a few other angelic siblings watched with rapt attention. Trixie could only stay for an hour or so before she was being picked up by a friend's mom to go to a slumber party. This was fine with Chloe—it meant that she didn't have to worry if the party got a little boozier later in the evening.

Chloe’s progress across the room halted when she saw Raphael talking excitedly with the only new human invitee: her mother.

There really had been no reason for Penelope Decker to learn about the divine origins of the universe or Lucifer’s true nature. She barely spent any time in LA, and Chloe had been one hundred percent on board with letting her mother think that Lucifer was simply a charming eccentric who had adopted a devil persona. This was not to be, however, after Penelope had returned early from a convention and used her spare key to surprise Chloe at her apartment. Unfortunately for all involved, it was Trixie’s weekend with Dan, and Chloe and Lucifer had been taking advantage of their privacy on the couch in the middle of the living room, in full view of the front door. Chloe hadn’t thought there could be anything worse than being caught in flagrante delicto by her mother, but it turns out there was: being caught in the act while her boyfriend had his giant, white angel wings out.

The sheer horror of the moment had melted the top layer of Chloe’s brain, and even Lucifer was frozen by the strange combination of embarrassment, panic, and awkwardness. After a few moments of Chloe simultaneously trying to pull a throw blanket around herself and cover Lucifer’s manhood with a pillow while hissing “Wings! Wings! Wings, Lucifer! Your wings are still out!”, Penelope had backed out of the door and shut it with a quiet “I’ll come back later.”

Chloe would have loved it if she and her mother could have just pretended that Penelope hadn’t seen Chloe bent over the back of the couch, but the wings had made it impossible for the situation to be quasi-forgotten, never to be spoken of again. Several awkward texts had become awkward phone calls, then an awkward meeting of all three of them at a coffee shop, during which Penelope was unable to pull her eyes away from Lucifer. The invite to the party was both an olive branch and an attempt to desensitize Penelope by throwing her in at the deep end. It had worked pretty well for Dan, after all.

Chloe sidled up to her mother. Raphael was exuberantly explaining different methods of leavening baked goods; apparently waffles had been a gateway drug, and he was now quite the baker.

“—so you’ll have to try the cinnamon rolls! I brought three different kinds: one with yeast, one with baking powder, and one with both baking soda and baking powder. Oh, hi Chloe!”

“Heyyyy Raph’, glad you could make it down. Mind if I borrow my mother for a bit?”

The angel nodded cheerfully and went to find someone else to discuss his newfound passion with. Chloe pulled her mother up the stairs to Lucifer’s bedroom, then into the expansive walk-in closet.

“How are you doing, mom?” she asked, taking her sensible brown work shoes off, and pulling the red dress down from where she’d hung it the night before. “I know it can be really overwhelming."

"The angel Raphael wants me to taste test his cinnamon rolls..." her mother replied faintly.

"Yep, mom. You gotta stop thinking about the Bible and churches and all that stuff. They’re angels, but they’re also just people.”

“One of them complimented me on the shape of my nose.”

“Yeah, they do stuff like that,” said Chloe with a smile, tugging her jeans down. “They’re just a big family with normal big family problems. And some other problems on the side. Someone is going to get too drunk, a couple of them are going to get in a fight about something that happened a long, long, time ago, and another is going to make a snide comment about what someone else is wearing.”

Penelope still looked doubtful. “One did say he liked my movies.”

“Oh really, who?”

“I’m not sure, but I could have sworn was wearing a puka shell necklace.”

“Oh, that’s Jophiel.” Chloe pulled the dress over her head. “Nice guy, but not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Over the summer he got drunk and passed out in a hot tub.”

Her mother’s mouth pulled into a wry smile at that. “Yes, he does seem rather the type. Need me to zip you up?”

Chloe nodded and turned her back to her mother. She bit her lip. She’d had a thought a few weeks prior, and had been debating since then about the right time to bring it up.

“Have you met Gabriel yet?” she asked.

“No, which one is he?” asked Penelope, tugging the zipper up.

“She, actually,” said Chloe. “Short, with brown curly hair, will talk your ear off and then some. You’ll know her when you meet her. Well, she’s the angel of messages.”

“Oh?” said Penelope, clearly unsure as to where this was going. She ran a hand down the line of the now closed zipper, smoothing the fabric on either side.

Chloe turned around again.

“Yeah, and she can carry messages pretty much anywhere. Including heaven, if you wanted.”

Penelope’s forehead wrinkled as she tried to understand what her daughter was getting at.

“I mean, if there was anything you wanted to tell dad,” finished Chloe softly.

“Oh! Oh. Chloe…” Her mother’s face was a picture of warring emotions.

“You don’t have to, obviously!” Chloe hastened to add. “And Gabriel doesn’t like bringing letters back; she said human souls really aren’t supposed to communicate with living people.”

The tension in the air was palpable, so Chloe tried to diffuse it a little by turning away and finding the short red heels she was going to wear. She had initially picked out some strappy, sky-high stilettos that she knew Lucifer would love to see her in, but he had easily picked up how uncomfortable they were and dissuaded her. “Your legs need nothing in the way of improvement, love,” he’d said. “Choose something you won’t mind wearing all evening.”

“Did you send your dad anything?” asked Penelope finally.

“I sent him a letter and some pictures of Trixie, yes. Gabriel said he loved them.” Chloe spotted her mom’s anxious face and immediately regretted bringing the whole idea up. “I’m sorry, mom, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. You should be enjoying the party.”

“No, I’m glad you said something, sweetie. I’m going to sleep on it, but… I suppose it could give me a bit more closure. Maybe I can update him on what I’ve been doing since he’s been gone.” Her nervous expression became more resolved. “Do you think they have DVD players in heaven?”

Chloe snorted. “I mean, Raphael stole a waffle iron from Lucifer. I’m sure we can work something out.”

Her mother smiled, then stepped forward and pulled Chloe into a tight hug. “Thanks, sweetie. This is all still so new for me, but I am so glad to see how happy you are.” She stepped back again, and Chloe knew that her eyes were wet, just like her mother’s.

“Come on, let’s get back to the party.”

Tasteful Christmas music was drifted out of the penthouse’s speakers, and the air was filled with glittering lights and happy voices.

“Ah, there you are detective!” exclaimed Lucifer, sweeping over to her and pulling her into his arms. He gave her a kiss that was quite chaste, perhaps because Penelope was right next to her daughter. The incident a few months earlier was the first time in Lucifer’s long life that a sexual misadventure caused him more embarrassment than mirth. As they broke apart, Chloe took a moment to admire his suit: pine green with a crisp white shirt, and a red pocket square in the exact same shade as her dress.

“Come meet our guests!” He wrapped an arm around Chloe’s waist and pulled her towards a group of his siblings. “This is Batriel; she’s offered to bring in some snow for a bit of holiday atmosphere, if we wanted. Not a lot! Don’t worry detective, I wouldn’t do anything rash.”

Chloe couldn’t keep from snorting at that. Fortunately, Lucifer was too wrapped up in introductions to notice.

“This is Phanuel—he’s not much of a talker, but if you ever want to sit in contemplative silence, he’s your man. There’s Hanjobadiel—now you know for certain that the rumors about him being more handsome than I am are nothing more than scurrilous lies…” He continued leading her around the room. She was feeling overwhelmed by the time they reached Ella and Michael, who were wearing matching light-up reindeer sweaters. Michael caught her staring at his and raised an eyebrow, as if daring her to comment.

“Hey Chloe!” said Ella, throwing her arms around Chloe’s neck. “This party is a-maze-ing! I wish we could stay longer, but you know, early flight.”

“So you’re still planning to be out in Detroit on Christmas Day?” asked Chloe.

“Yeah, I’ve already met Mike’s family, so it’s time he met the Lopez clan,” said Ella cheerfully. Chloe would give a significant amount of money to be a fly on the wall when that went down, but she’d have to content herself with whatever Ella told her after the couple made it back.

“It sounds like fun!” she said instead. “Are you guys going to a proper Christmas mass?”

Michael nodded.

“Don’t worry, though, I told Michael he doesn’t have to take communion,” Ella added.

“I would rather not cannibalize any family members, no matter how metaphorical the act may be,” said Michael with a pained look on his face.

Ella rolled her eyes. “Ugh, the drama with this one,” she said, although her tone was fond. “Oh, there’s Rae Rae! I gotta go say ‘hi’.” And the lab tech zipped away, leaving Chloe standing awkwardly with her boyfriend’s surly twin brother. She was about to make an excuse to leave when he spoke up.

“Uh, Chloe, could I get your advice on something?”

“Something Ella can’t help you with?” she asked in turn, her voice heavy with trepidation.

“It’s about Ella. It’s…” Michael sighed, looking for all the world like he would rather melt into the ground than finish his sentence. “It’s a relationship question.”

“Uh, oh, okay,” said Chloe. She would really rather not weigh in on Michael and Ella’s relationship. Besides, it seemed to be going great without her interference. For several weeks after the lake house trip, Ella was glued to her phone, and was constantly texting and smiling. About a month in, Michael got a job with the LAPD’s accounting department, and the two spent every spare moment at work together, whispering and giggling in corners like smitten teenagers. Lucifer expressed disgust with this development, but Chloe was pretty sure he’d had a hand in getting Michael the accounting job. Because of course the devil just wanted Ella to be happy.

Michael jerked his head towards an empty corner of Lucifer’s library, where they could talk with more privacy.

“What’s up, Michael?” prompted Chloe, when the angel seemed reluctant to begin.

“Well, you know how I started renting a house recently?”

Chloe was aware, and she knew for a fact that Lucifer had given his brother a zero-interest loan to cover the deposit on the modest townhouse. He was probably trying to get Michael out of the apartment above Lux. It worked, but then Saraqael had asked to move in three days later.

“Well, Ella is in that tiny box her landlord calls an apartment, and I’ve been thinking that it would be good for both of us if she moved in with me.” Michael was blushing now. It really was quite sweet. “But I don’t know if it’s too early or what. When do humans usually begin cohabitation?”

Chloe tightened the muscles in her cheeks to keep from smiling—Michael wouldn’t appreciate it—but his scowl deepened, so she probably wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well, I think two and a half months is a bit early for the average human relationship, but it’s not too early to bring up the idea. She’ll be over the moon if you ask her, actually.”

Michael’s face softened, and some of the tension left his posture. “Okay, good. You humans have made so many little rules and conventions for relationships. I’m never sure when I’m going to put my foot in it,” he said in a surprising display of honesty.

“Well, whatever you’re doing seems to be working, Michael. I don’t think I’ve seen Ella ever look as happy as she has the past few months.”

“Thanks, Chloe,” said Michael. He flashed her his happy smirk, then his eyes caught on something over her shoulder, and he rolled his eyes. “I should go cut off Jophiel unless we want another hot tub incident on our hands.”

Chloe laughed and watched him go. The twins had created a few new versions of their angelic liquor, the most recent of which could be mixed with other liquids without exploding. Ella and Dan had even taken some and diluted it (then diluted it a few times more) and tried it, finding it to be quite smooth with a faint taste of cardamom.

The elevator dinged, announcing a new arrival, and Saraqael stepped out, Charlie on one hip. Since taking over Michael’s old apartment she had been sharing babysitting duties with Maze. She was still distrustful of the demon, but deferred to Amenadiel’s opinion on the matter. The last Chloe had heard from Linda, Sara had been of great help getting the baby get some control over his wings. Linda was hopeful that by the time Charlie learned to walk, she’d be able to let him play with other children. As it was, Charlie had already been responsible for a pediatrician quitting his practice and enrolling in seminary after an unfortunately-timed unfurling.

“Charlie! Sara!” squealed Linda upon seeing them. “Is someone up here to say night-night?”

If that had been Sara’s intention, it was immediately forgotten in the rush of angels who all wanted to adore their nephew.

“Wait, brothers, sisters!” said Sara, before they could begin the ritual passing-around of the baby. She turned to Linda who smiled at her then turned her attention to her son. Linda held up a hand with her pinky and finger extended in the “hang loose” sign, but then she wiggled the extended digits. “Where are your wings, Charlie?” she asked simultaneously. Apparently, Linda and Sara had found that a rudimentary sign language worked better for Charlie than speech alone.

The baby grinned and flapped his arms, then tensed his shoulders a little. His fluffy grey wings erupted from his back and kicked up a small windstorm, to the delight of his assembled family. Sara passed him to Barachiel, who looked as if all her dreams had come true.

“Man, I swear those things get bigger every time I see them,” Chloe commented to Sara, who had stepped back to enjoy the view.

“Yes, they are growing at a prodigious rate. I believe Amenadiel is hoping he’ll learn to fly at the same time he learns to walk.”

“Oof, poor Linda,” said Chloe with sympathy.

The angel smiled, then her expression turned serious.

“I don’t mean to pry, but earlier I heard your mother asking Gabriel about the possibility of carrying a message to your father. Well, a message and some DVDs. Was that your suggestion?”

“It was. I think it could make her very happy,” said Chloe, tensing. Was Sara about to give her a dressing-down for breaking some celestial rule?

“Good,” Sara said with a nod, and Chloe’s shoulders relaxed. “I think you’re right. Daniel has been much happier since I began providing a means of communication with Charlotte Richards.”

Chloe had just taken a sip of cider and had to spit it back into her cup to avoid choking.

“You… you’ve met Charlotte Richards?” she said, coughing.

“Of course,” said the angel, eyeing Chloe with a look of bemusement. “When Daniel told me about her, it was clear that she was a very important figure in his life, so I went to visit her. Charlotte seems happier now as well. She had been concerned that Dan would be lonely without her, and she thanked me for my presence in his life.”

Chloe’s mouth opened and shut a few times before she was able to get any words out. “So both of you… and Dan?”

“Oh, I see! You’re concerned about what will happen if Daniel and I are still together when his soul leaves the Earthly plane. Charlotte stated that we would have…” the angel paused for a second, as if trying to recall an unfamiliar turn of phrase. “…a 'shared custody arrangement'? I believe that was the term. It sounded perfectly agreeable when she explained it to me.”

Chloe knew she was staring, but she just couldn’t stop.

“And Dan— He’s— I mean, Dan’s okay with this?”

Sara eyed Chloe, an eyebrow raised in puzzlement. “Of course. Why wouldn’t he be? In fact, the idea seemed to give him new vigor, and we had sexual intercourse several times in the hours after I told him of Charlotte and I’s discussion.”

Words failed Chloe, which was dangerous, because multiple Tribe Nights had shown Sara to have zero understanding of the situations in which discussing sex was acceptable.

“In fact, one of those times was the first in which Daniel asked me to put him in handcuffs. Are you familiar with the use of restraints during intercourse? Of course you are, I’m sure you and Daniel must have—"

“Oh look, Lucifer’s going to sing something!” Chloe said, nearly shouting.

The first chords rang out, and the conversations around the penthouse gradually faded. Chloe joined the other partygoers as they gathered in a loose group around the piano.

If she were alone with Lucifer, she would sit next to him on the piano bench and press the side of her leg to his. He would look up at her as he played, and he would give her that that smile. Her smile. The one that was soft and made her heart ache in the best way.

Instead, she walked to the far side of the piano and leaned against it. That gave her a great view of him as he sang, and she saw his eyes light up as she settled across from him. He liked being able to look at her, too.

He swayed a little as he let himself sink deeper into the music, then he smiled and began to sing.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all your troubles will be out of sight

Chloe allowed herself a look around at the other assembled guests. Her friends. Her family.

Linda and Amenadiel stood to one side, Charlie held between them. Amenadiel had his head cocked and a peaceful smile on his face. Come to think of it, she didn’t think she’d ever seen Amenadiel take the time to sit and listen to his brother’s talents. Maybe he had long ago when they were both younger and carefree. Chloe was glad Amenadiel had the opportunity now.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
Next year all our troubles will be miles away

Dan and Sara were nearby. In heels, Sara was an inch or two taller than Dan. Both were watching Lucifer’s performance, but as Chloe observed them, she saw each take a sneaky, appreciative peek at the other when they weren’t looking.

Once again, as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Will be near to us once more

Azrael, Gabriel, Ella, and Michael were gathered around one of the high-top tables, and had set their mugs on it as they watched the show. Both Azrael and Gabriel were wearing t-shirts that just had to be gifts from Ella. Gabriel’s shirt had a salt and pepper shaker wearing winter clothes, waving tiny mittens beneath the words Seasonings’ Greetings!, while Rae Rae’s shirt bore three wise men stylized like infomercial salesmen, with one declaring, “But wait, there’s myrrh!”.

Michael had wrapped Ella in his arms from behind, and she leaned her head back into his chest. As Chloe watched, she turned her face to look up at the angel behind her, and he dropped a kiss on her lips.

Someday soon, we all will be together
If the fates allow
Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow

Chloe scanned across the rest of the guests, seeing old friends, new friends, her mother, her daughter with fondue chocolate at the side of her mouth, and—

He was standing at the back of the crowd, a little space separating Him from the rest of the group. His expression was calm, His eyes as inscrutable as always. No one else seemed to have realized He was there. Fathomless eyes met her own, and God smiled, nodding politely at her, before turning His attention back to His son’s performance.

So have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Chloe turned her eyes back to the Devil as he held out the last note, and she found his eyes shining at her with devotion. Their assembled family applauded the performance, and the background music was turned up again as the guests returned to the joyful camaraderie of the evening.

Chloe looked back to where the Almighty had stood and found that He was gone. Or had returned to being non-corporeal, she supposed.

She turned back to Lucifer, walking around the piano to meet him. When she reached up to cup his cheeks and pull his face down so she could kiss him, he bent to her touch, his own hands going to her waist.

“Merry Christmas, Lucifer,” she said when they pulled apart.

Lucifer took one moment to look at the guests—his family who were gathered to celebrate at his side—before he turned his eyes, shining with happiness, back to her.

“Merry Christmas, Chloe.”