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‘I asked you to stop doing that!’ Linda snapped, as she once again found her son gleefully clapping at the sight of Lucifer’s supposedly scary bald leathery head.
‘Would you rather he was afraid of me? I’m hurt, Doctor.’
Too much drama implied the hurt might be real and needed to be addressed at a later date, but for now she wouldn’t be deterred:
‘No. But I’d rather not explain why he draws his favourite uncle as a devil.’
‘He can’t draw,’ Lucifer frowned, genuinely confused.
‘He can’t draw yet. And what about when he starts talking?’
‘What about it? Aren’t all your friends aware of his origins?’
‘Ella doesn’t know. My own parents don’t know! And there are playgrounds, shopping malls, hospitals! And what if it’s more than talking? What if he grows wings? Or a scary face of his own? Or learns to meddle with time? Or hypnotize people into, I don’t know, giving in to their dark impulses? Most of our friends are human: what can they possibly do? I am human: what will I do?’
‘Call Amenadiel, I imagine,’ Lucifer replied nonchalantly, sneakily (or so he thought) making his hand grow scales and thick black claws. Charlie giggled.
‘Amenadiel can’t wait for Charlie to do something angelic, he won’t even understand what the problem is. And, frankly, Amenadiel was not made to raise children, in his case, I suppose, literally. He tries, he certainly tries, but when his own body does something he doesn’t want to deal with, his default response is to just will it away. Every time I leave them alone, I can’t help worrying I’ll come back to Charlie skipping some “unnecessarily painful” stage of his development – like growing his teeth, or maybe growing altogether.’
Linda dropped into the nearest armchair, suddenly exhausted.
‘Anyway, Amenadiel can’t be here all the time, he has a job, whatever it is. And, eventually, I will need to go back to work too. And it’s going to be hard enough to find a suitable nanny as it is. So, unless you're volunteering, please, try not to put a scary face on the list of “must-have” skills.’
‘But of course!’ Lucifer’s human face broke into the devilish grin that usually meant he had come up with an utterly inappropriate idea which would somehow work out in the most bizarre way. ‘Why haven’t I thought of it before?’
‘Are you volunteering?’ Linda asked with trepidation.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, I have better things to do with my time than coddle a sticky little monster. However, I do know someone who has been watching over one disgusting human offspring or another since, well, the Flood. And who just happens to possess both a set of wings fit to chase a half-angelic baby, should the need arise, and a passably scary demonic face. How does it go? Oh, yes, here,’ – and he traced a complicated pattern on the TV screen, of all places.
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The serpentine glyph literally burned away, and the TV, despite still being switched off, lit up with an awkwardly tilted view of a tattered old sofa in the middle of a cluttered but cozy room. The lone figure on the sofa was wrapped in a soft creamy cardigan and bent over an enormous leather-bound book. The gentle profile framed with fluffy silvery-blond curls couldn’t possibly look scary even if several sets of fangs and horns were added to the mix, – but the soft white hand not holding a big porcelain mug with a wing-shaped handle was absentmindedly stoking what Linda dearly hoped was a huge plush snake draped all over the person’s lap, shoulders and the remaining two thirds of the sofa.
Lucifer pointedly cleared his throat. The man (or, well, man-shaped being) on the sofa looked up, startled, and Linda was surprised to realise he was somehow facing them, despite watching the reflection in one of his numerous bookcases, rather than the actual ancient monitor somewhere behind his back.
‘Aziraphale, I presume?’ Lucifer smiled his sharpest, widest smile and winked, letting his eyes flash red.
‘Oh, fuck!’ the man – Aziraphale, apparently – enunciated very clearly, as he jumped up and put himself between the sofa and the Devil on his screen (well, the reflection of the screen), suddenly rigid posture one swift motion away from battle stance.
‘What the fuck, Angel?’ the discarded (unfortunately not plush) snake on the sofa whined in a confused, but definitely human voice.
‘Could you, maybe, not swear in front of my son?’ Linda demanded indignantly, taking a step closer.
‘Oh, yes, of course, sorry,’ the Aziraphale guy babbled, flustered, ‘but, my dear, I don’t mean to pry, but, are you aware who exactly is holding your son?’
‘Yes. Do you believe I should be worried?’ Linda replied, making sure to narrow her eyes suspiciously: she had, of course, long put such worries behind her, but it was always quite entertaining to observe how many people saw someone who insisted on being called Lucifer Morningstar and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt – and how desperately some celestial entities clung to the idea that the Devil must be evil.
‘Not really,’ the blond man admitted, throwing a quick apologetic glance at the messy pile of coils behind his back. ‘Most of the time, their side considers going after children unsporting.’
‘Chhhhhhhildern?’ the snake repeated, its sleepy yellow eyes finally focusing on Charlie, who, true to his form, was watching the great beast with gleeful fascination. ‘Oh, no, you’ve made another one? What, you thhhhink if you raise him yoursssself, he’ll go with your ridiculoussss plan?’
‘First of all, it was not my ridiculous plan,’ Lucifer retorted. ‘Frankly, I’m not even sure it was Dad’s. Beelzebub conspired with whichever of our pompous siblings thinks themselves in charge of Heaven this century.’
‘Siblings!’ Linda snorted, not bothering to keep her voice down. ‘Great! More family drama for me to unfold!’
‘And, secondly, why would I put such a terrible taxing burden upon myself? You know I hate these hideous little creatures. You, on the other hand, did such an admirable job – ‘
‘I feel I should point out that we actually went nowhere near Adam. All the “admirable job” was done by his human parents,’ Aziraphale said quietly.
‘Doctor Linda here is a wonderful mother. And you were there when it counted the most.’
‘Why do you sssound like you actttually want usss to hhelp your ssson ssstop the Apocalypssse again?’
‘Your son stopped the Apocalypse? And, wait, you have a son?’ Linda shrieked involuntarily, causing Charlie to scrunch his face in preparation for a good wail, though a glimpse of the Devil’s true form soon had him clapping and giggling once again.
‘What? He is not mine! Amenadiel recently - how did you put it? – “sauntered vaguely downwards”. Not all the way, obviously, but enough to fornicate and procreate,’ Lucifer clarified cheerfully.
‘Let me get thissstraight,’ the snake shook its enormous head and put the tip of its tail to what could be considered the bridge of its snout, obviously not sharing Lucifer’s amusement, ‘you have an Archangel Nephilim, conccccceived pre-Flood sssstyle, with no build-in ffffailssssaves, indissssscriminately exxxposssed to both ethhhhereal and occult energies, in the middle of what is probably a denssssely populated area, in the care of hhis hhhuman mothhhher???’
‘Yes!’ Lucifer nodded eagerly, ‘Just imagine all the chaos! The possibilities are endless!’
Aziraphale and the snake exchanged a tense look, and the former snapped his fingers with an exasperated sigh. A bulky old-fashioned tartan sac voyage sprang into existence by the sofa.
The Devil’s already impossibly wide grin grew even wider:
‘I knew you wouldn’t miss it! So, how soon can you be in LA?’
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