Someone is playing his piano.
Whoever it is has undeniable talent and Lucifer is far from averse to sharing his toys, quite the contrary. But it is seven in the morning, when naughty adults should be sleeping, not breaking into his club and playing the most complex version of "I'm Gonna Be" that he's ever heard. There are counterpoints, harmonies, and subtle insertions of minor keys that completely alter the tone of the cheerful Scottish ballad.
He stops at the top of the stairs leading into the club, clad in only his robe, and frowns down at the petite young woman sitting cross-legged on the piano bench. She has a cloud of white blonde hair, an impish smile, and something naggingly off about her presence.
She's not alone.
There's a young man behind the bar, with the same nagging sense of wrongness, expertly mixing up a tray of colorful drinks. He has messy black hair, bright green eyes, and a distinctive scar on his forehead.
Lucifer brightens. "Oh it's you, that fictional wizard boy then? The one that had all of my Father's followers in an uproar."
The young man glances up at him and shrugs, before looking back down at the bottles of alcohol he's wielding. "Fictional in this universe maybe. Pretty sure you're fictional in mine."
"Hey now, I refuse to believe any universe would deny their worlds the beauty of my presence," Lucifer retorts, wandering down the stairs until he's on ground level. He saunters over to the piano and leans on it, grinning down at the young lady on the seat, still playing as if she hasn't noticed them at all.
"And who might you be?" he asks, with his most charming smile. It's been known to cause the immediate removal of all clothes in the vicinity but the blonde just gives him a whimsical smile.
"I might be all sorts of people. A scuba diver on a quest for vengeance against the sea sponge who stole my brother, a lost princess with no desire to be found, a crumple-horned snorkack in disguise, studying human mating rituals for my very popular zoological book series." She tilts her head to the side, eyes as clear and blue as the sky LA pretends it has. "Today, however, I'm just a girl, on vacation with a boy."
She finishes her song with a trilling flourish before rising to her feet and giving him a dainty bow. "Thanks for the use of your piano, Mr. Morningstar."
"Do you two often take vacations in other universes, then?" Lucifer asks, watching with bemusement as she walks over to the bar and downs the first in the row of brightly colored shots the young man has prepared. Some are actually glowing, others are giving off sparks, and at least one is still producing a humming accompaniment to the song the girl had been playing. Lucifer's bartender is a demon and he's still impressed.
"And please tell me you intend to share. I want to try that one," he says, pointing at the bright purple drink and grinning as the humming increases in volume. "You wizards must throw delightful parties. Any interest in relocating here more permanently?"
The boy grins at him, bright and sharp. "No thanks. We like our universe, despite the lingering infestation of violent racists." He waves a hand and the humming purple shot floats toward Lucifer, bobbing gently until he plucks it out of the air.
He regards it for a moment, idly wondering if it will continue to hum in his stomach, then downs it. It tastes like mangoes, chocolate, and that bear-shaped squishy candy Trixie had shared with him last week. It also turns all of his fingernails the same shade of purple as the drink, shimmering in the low lights of the club. He laughs, delighted. "Wonderful. Are you sure I can't convince you to change careers? World saving sounds like far more work and far less fun."
The young man, Harry Plumber or something like that, lifts a glowing pink shot in his direction and then swallows it. "You have no idea," he tells Lucifer, brushing his suddenly pink hair out of his face. "But we're onto the rebuilding now, and what fun is saving the world if you don't get to see what it becomes after?"
Lucifer considers this point as the three of them finish the rest of the tray of drinks, even Lucifer feeling a little fuzzy around the edges by the last one. His nails are now multicolored and his robe has been replaced with a luxurious fur coat in garish orange. "Heliopath," Luna tells him. "It wards off nightmares."
"Fascinating," Lucifer says as he pets it, referring to the fur and his unexpected guests. Maybe he should take up universe hopping. That would piss Father off.
Harry cleans up the bar with a few waves of his hand and then hops over it wrap his arm around Luna's waist, dropping a kiss on her glitter covered cheek with lips a vibrant ruby red that would have put the fruit on the tree of life to shame. "Thank you for your hospitality, but we must be off. Other universes to see."
Luna winks at him. "We'll make sure to check for other versions of you from now on. Maybe we can organize a convention."
"Oh you must report back then, and you," Lucifer says, pointing at Harry. "Must meet Maze. I think the two of you together could get Amenadiel drunk and he's the very definition of stick in the mud. Or at least stick up the ass."
Both of his guests grin, that sense of wrongness spiking as the air in the bar starts to crackle. "We'll see each other again, I can almost guarantee it," Harry promises. The crackle intensifies, the air shimmering around them, and then with a loud pop they're gone, leaving a shower of iridescent confetti in the air that dances around him.
Maze chooses that moment to walk in and raises an eyebrow as Lucifer scoops some confetti out of the air, laughing as it zaps his palm. "Hey Mazey, what do you know about dimensional travel?"