We're currently suffering from extreme cruelty as the airing of an eagerly awaited episode is delayed for the winter olympics. So I decided to put the time to good use and entertain myself (and hopefully you) by putting together my own version of the episode, working from the trailer, possible suggestions and a large dose of imagination.

The whole story is planned out, and I intend to publish it in full before the episode itself airs at the end of February - it will be interesting to see whether there are any similarities at all!

All reviews welcome, especially if they come with suggestions as to how the story might develop.

Beryl Mundell parked up and checked the time on her watch again: it was four minutes and thirty-five seconds before she was due to arrive. That would do nicely. She always had to arrive on time, never more than five minutes early and heaven forbid she should ever be late.

She collected her briefcase from the rear seat of the car, locked up and walked the few yards to Fabius Grand's front door. It was a large property in the suburbs of LA, worthy of a best-selling author, and she nodded in approval. The man was unbearable at times, but he was managing to churn out novels with satisfying regularity, and coped with her edits better than some of the other authors she worked with, even though they had their regular fights over comma splices.

The front door stood ajar, and she frowned for a moment, unsure of the protocol, before ringing the bell anyway. She heard the bell jangling inside somewhere, and waited to hear movements, but the interior remained silent, and all she could hear were the birds in the trees to the side of the property.

'Hello? Mr Grand?' She pushed the door slightly, gaining a view of a long, elegantly decorated hallway. Now she could hear music playing somewhere deep inside the house, but still no one came to greet her. 'I've come for our meeting.'

Honestly, this was too much. The man had insisted on her visiting in person to discuss something important, and couldn't even be ready at the door when she arrived. Next time she would insist on communication by email only. At least then she wouldn't lose half the day over it.

Impatience overcame etiquette, and she pushed the door further open and stepped inside. 'Hello?' The lack of response emboldened her, and she marched across the hallway, following the music back to its source. Through an open doorway, she could see the corner of a desk. This looked promising. A few more steps and she was through the door and could see a large leather desk chair. On the desk stood a computer, screen showing a composite image of all the covers from Grand's books. Definitely his office then. But there was still no sign of the man himself.

'Honestly,' she muttered under her breath. 'Where the hell is he?'

She took a step into the room, admiring the soft, luxury carpet. It had an odd pattern though; it took her a good minute to work out that the pattern was actually a pool of blood. Then she peered around the corner of the desk, saw Grand sprawled there, his head strangely flattened, and screamed.

###

'So, Lucifer, did you manage to find out any more about Pierce, alias Cain?' Linda settled back in her chair, prepared to listen to whatever story the devil had uncovered.

'I have.' The tall, handsome devil leaned forward, pouring himself a glass of water. At least he no longer pulled out his hip flask to fill the glass. 'He wants to die.'

'He's suicidal?' That was worrying.

'Not exactly. Well, yes, but that's not the problem. The problem is that he can't die.'

'He can't…' she paused, encouraging him to continue.

'Yes, you see my father cursed him and had Amenadiel put a mark on him. And ever since, he's been unable to die, however hard he tries.' Lucifer waved the glass around, threatening to spill the water. 'I've tried a few times myself. And he and Amenadiel absolutely ruined my club last night, fighting.'

'Really?'

He nodded. 'You should have seen the place. He cleaned it up, but it took hours, and there was an impressive amount of Pierce's blood all around the place. And every time, he just keeps bouncing back.'

'Rather like you do?'

Lucifer stopped for a minute to consider that. 'Well, yes, I'm immortal, of course. Well, as long as Chloe isn't around. But my family is the same, and I lived with them for eons before coming here. I suppose Pierce, being stuck on earth, is just pissed off with everyone else dying around him.'

'And so what are you going to do?'

Lucifer looked pleased with himself. 'I'm going to kill him.'

Linda felt a surge of alarm. 'I thought you can't kill a human.'

'I'm not allowed to kill a human,' Lucifer corrected her. 'So if I do, it guarantees that my father will disapprove and stop trying to make me into something I'm not.'

'Oh Lucifer.' Linda sighed heavily. 'And how are you intending to kill him, anyway?'

His face fell for a moment. 'I haven't quite figured out that one yet. But I'm determined to keep my word to him.' He flashed her one of those smiles that melted her somewhere inside and gave her the desire to rip his clothes off and…

She dragged herself back to the present. Much as she missed those days, it was easier to treat Lucifer on a professional level, and strangely, she felt she knew him more intimately these days by talking to him than when they were physically involved. 'And how far are you prepared to go for him?' she asked.

'Why, all the way, of course. Whatever it takes.' Lucifer took a long drink of water, and then placed the glass back on the table. But he had lost the glee he had shown a moment ago, and she frowned. He would tell her his concerns when he was ready. Until then, she just hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid.

###

Pierce flicked through yet another of the folders on his desk and sighed deeply. All the years he had spent alive, and he still hadn't grown to love paperwork. He thought fondly of the time when life consisted only of working on his parents' farm. It was his job to tend the crops, and his brother's to look after the animals, and they got along just fine, until God had decided to pick sides. It was so unfair; all the evil people in the world who died and faced their punishment, and all he had done was kill one man, and yet he was doomed to this living hell.

But then God had never been known for his wisdom and kindness.

Pierce set the folder aside and picked up the smaller stack. This was what he really wanted to work on. Somehow, he still felt that Chloe held the secret of the death he longed for so desperately. But how? He had tried getting killed when she was there, and it had made no difference at all. Nor had Lucifer had any effect, even with his demon daggers forged in hellfire.

And yet Lucifer had become vulnerable. There had to be a clue somewhere as to how it had happened.

The smaller stack contained the first few cases that Lucifer had worked on with Chloe. Pierce flicked through them yet again. He knew that Lucifer had been shot and injured when working on the disappearance of Lindsay Jolson, but that hadn't been their first case. He checked the earlier ones again, sure that he'd missed something.

There. The singer, Delilah, had died in a hail of bullets, and Lucifer hadn't been injured at all. But that made sense; after all, Chloe was nowhere near them at that point. But… he read through the rest of the case. Chloe had been shot herself, and when the police had turned up, Lucifer was sitting watching Jimmy Barnes bawling his eyes out in the corner of the room. But something didn't make sense. Pierce checked the paperwork in the back of the folder. Barnes had emptied his gun, and yet the forensics team and not found all the bullet holes. And there had been some remark about Lucifer's jacket - what was it?

Pierce stared at the words in front of him. Bullet holes in the jacket. Lucifer had been shot, but not injured. And yet Chloe was right there. That didn't make sense.

Closing the folder, Pierce sat back in his chair, thinking hard. There had been a report in the Jolson file about Lucifer and Chloe attending a Players meeting, which had ended up as a bust because Lucifer had revealed they were cops. In the process he had complained that Chloe wouldn't sleep with him. But Lucifer had never had problems getting women to sleep with him - at least, not before Chloe.

That had to be it. Lucifer was attracted to Chloe and she was attracted to him, but it was different somehow, not his usual casual flings. Before that, he had been immortal, but once that attraction existed, he had become vulnerable around her.

'Lieutenant?'

He jerked, startled, and looked up to see Chloe looking at him, frowning. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine. You just startled me.'

'Sorry. I just wondered if you'd heard anything about that meeting.'

'Not yet. Chloe…'

She stepped into the room, looking enquiringly at him.

'Maybe I was a little hasty last night. About not going for that drink with you guys.'

'Oh.' She shrugged. 'It doesn't matter. I mean, it would have been good to have you along, I'd hate to think of you sitting on your own if you don't have to be, but it's up to you.'

This was going to be harder than he had thought. 'I was wondering… you were a great help on that case. Dealing with Lucifer, I mean. Perhaps we - I mean perhaps you - that is…' He took a deep breath. 'Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?'

Her gaze searched his face, and he could hear his own words echoing in his ears, I'm not relationship material. Then she nodded. 'That would be good, thanks.'

He relaxed slightly. They had shared a moment, in the surveillance van. There was a spark there between them. All he had to do was to allow it to catch fire, and maybe he would finally achieve the vulnerability he so desired.

He hoped that Chloe wouldn't be hurt in the process, but it was a risk he was prepared to take. After all, she would be dead soon enough anyway. One lesson he'd learned in all his years on earth was that sooner or later they all died.

Except him.

Writing this sort of thing is strangely addictive. Please feel free to feed the writer - it might encourage faster completion ;)