My twisted mind at work again, but the idea wouldn't leave me.

Lucifer, the Devil, meeting Matt, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen… surely that's a meeting to write about this, right?

Lucifer Morningstar, Lord of Hell turned club owner, was playing the piano in an empty room.

Not that he couldn't draw a crowd if he wanted to. No. He was enjoying the calm and the silence.

The morning cleaning crews had finished their work and left. The evening shift hadn't arrived yet. Even Maze was out, somewhere, doing whatever she did when she wasn't playing barista at the Lux.

Lucifer loved these moments. When alone, he truly was the master of the castle, or in this case nightclub. Although Maze would probably strongly disapprove, to him this beat ruling over the gates of the Underworld.

He was currently playing a lively tune. Something you certainly did not get to hear in Hell. L.A. and its humans had their perks. However, in the past few minutes, he had become aware of Maze's presence in the background.

"Something you need to say, Maze?" he asked, his hands running over the keys.

"I'm surprised by your choice of music. I would have thought the news would have upset you."

"And what news would that be?"

"Newspaper, from this morning?"

Ah… Newspapers. The ultimate gossip tool of humans. He did have fun reading some of them, but there were so many of them; how could Maze assume they had read the same one?

"Would you care to specify?"

Maze snorted and he could hear her walk away before coming back to drop the paper on his piano.

He bent his head to read the headline: "The Devil of Hell's Kitchen Strikes Again".

"Oh," he exclaimed upon seeing the title, his hand stilling on the keyboard.

"I thought that would pique your interest."

A blurry picture of a dark silhouette illustrated the front page. The small horns were visible but the face itself was covered by some sort of mask.

"What is it with the horns again?" he complained. He had never needed those to scare the hell -pardon the pun- out of his victims.

"Actually, I find them kind of nice."

"Maze, please…" He complained. He scanned the page not bothering to read the text. "So what did this costumed gentleman do? Rob old ladies, steal from the group home?"

"Quite the contrary. He's some kind of vigilante. Protecting the defenceless in the streets of New York, more precisely in Hell's Kitchen."

"I miss the point here. Shouldn't he be the 'angel' of Hell's Kitchen then? Or something like that. He's going to ruin my reputation."

He frowned and started reading the article.

No, no, no, no, no. This wouldn't do.

That vigilante shouldn't be using his name in vain. There was only one Devil. Himself. Not that he used the title much lately or indeed perform the tasks he was supposed to. But after thousands of years of service, he was allowed some time off, right? Even if Dad didn't really approve, of course.

Maybe he should pay a visit to this mysterious copycat. Could prove interesting. And a lesson needed to be given here. Do not use the Lord's name in vain was a baseline in the family.

"Maze, get me a ticket to New York. I think I need to pay this impostor a visit."

Maze smiled brightly. "Can I come too?"

"No, this is something I need to take care of alone."

As he walked the streets of New York, Lucifer congratulated himself, once more, upon his choice of Los Angeles as the place to live. Of course, choosing it in the beginning was more of a joke. Where else for the Devil to go than the city of angels?

New York presented perhaps an even more fascinating population, but the weather was dreadful. He was used to warmth and heat; the drafts of wind that came from some New York streets were just unbearable.

He had arrived earlier in the afternoon and checked in a select hotel. If he had to roam the shady streets during the night, that didn't mean he couldn't relax comfortably during the day. The view over Central Park was quite nice, and the joggers pretty. Much too clothed for his taste, but given the temperatures he'd have to wait to be back home to enjoy bikini clad runners. Not that some of the tight sweaters and leggings left much to imagination.

He had gathered quite a large amount of information on the "Daredevil" character the name by which he was currently known. Apparently he had been fundamental in the fall of one nefarious individual known as Wilson Fisk who had taken upon himself to rebuild the city by blowing it up first. Fisk, Lucifer mused, would have been a ripe candidate for his previous work. Except in this case, the kingpin had been sent to jail.

One thing was apparent. Daredevil didn't kill anyone; unlike that Punisher guy he had also found out about. What was it about the city that made New York seem to attract the vigilante types?

Of course calling to set up a meeting wasn't going to cut it. So Lucifer had invested in a beautiful cashmere coat – the loss of which he was already lamenting and had decided to walk the shadiest streets of Hell's Kitchen at night. Hopefully he would attract attention of the most aggressive kind and in turn Daredevil would make an appearance to save him. He was perfectly capable of defending himself if Daredevil did not arrive, but that would defeat the purpose of wandering at night in Prada clothes. He just hoped he wouldn't have to fend off too many villains before the man he was looking for made an appearance.

The strategy, however, hadn't proved to be that productive so far. He had already spent two nights roaming the streets, going back to his hotel room in the early morning, freezing, cranky and starting to question his decision.

Now for the third night in a row, he was on the streets again. His feet were getting cold and he had resigned himself to throwing away his shoes after this night. He didn't want to know what he had been stepping on during his aimless walks down the streets.

Yet again, it was also his own fault. He had reacted instinctively to the first thug who had held a knife to his face asking for his wallet. Forgetting his reason for being alone at night for a second, he had shown his Devil face to his assailant and sent him screaming. By the time he realized his mistake, the perp had disappeared in the dark, his yell still audible.

He was now more ready for the next attempt on his wallet. And this time luckier. The thug seemed to enjoy his resistance and started throwing punches, his blade effectively slashing his arm. There goes the coat, Lucifer thought as he stopped another blow, just enough to pretend he was fighting back. He gave a yell for good measure, not sure it sounded scared enough. How did Daredevil sort the noises anyway?

A stick flying out of nowhere suddenly sliced the air and sent his opponent to the floor. The sound of a body jumping to the ground followed a second later. The thug was already on his knees, apparently not having had enough, or most probably too dumb to realize the danger. He raised his head and fell back on his ass when he saw who he was up against. Scrambling back, he tried to put as much distance as possible between himself and Daredevil before he managed to get to his feet and run away.

"Wimp," Lucifer shot at the fleeing shape. He then turned to the man in the red suit, "that wasn't really impressive," he commented.

"Excuse me?" Daredevil asked bewildered.

"From what I had read I was hoping for something scarier. You know, with more thunderbolts and lightning…" He shrugged. "Of course, that's more my specialty."

Matt looked at the elegant man trying to understand what was going on. He knew some people tried to spot him in the streets, but he was starting to wonder if the stranger hadn't voluntarily put himself in harm's way to actually meet him. The clothes he was wearing were like a neon light pointing at him in this neighbourhood.

"Walking in a Gucci coat at this time of the night is a sure way to look for trouble," he explained.

"Gucci? Either you're blind or your sense of fashion is abysmal. This is pure Prada."

Matt's lips curled in a smile. Not a bad assumption given the circumstances. The brush of the cloth made it obvious it was high end; his special skills didn't go as far as letting him know which brand it was. That still didn't explain what this guy's purpose was, but he probably wasn't that far off thinking he was indeed looking for him.

"More a question of income…" he offered.

"Your suit could certainly use some style. And those horns? Seriously?" Lucifer shook his head. "If you're going to keep calling yourself the devil, you're going to have to do much better. I cannot accept such a bad doppelganger. Not that you should try to personify me in any way," he snorted.

Where did this weirdo escape from? Matt wondered. No need to antagonize him though. Back to basics.

"And you are?"

Lucifer straightened slightly. "Yes, right. I did not introduce myself. Lucifer Morningstar, Lord of Hell."

"Lord of Hell?" Matt repeated with a smile.

"Yes, the Devil himself. The one from whom you took your name."

"I didn't choose the name. People started calling me that."

"But you apparently agreed," Lucifer countered moving his hand toward him. "Hence the suit."

"It's more of a body armor."

"Red? Not very low profile."

"I happen to like red…"

Lucifer approached him with a smile, fixing him in the eyes.

"Yes, tell me what you like," he said in an enthralling voice. "Admit your deepest desires…"

Daredevil tilted his head, clearly not falling into his spell. Lucifer frowned. So far the only person who seemed impervious to his gift was Chloe. How come this stranger seemed unaffected?

There was something about the eyes that wasn't quite right. He stepped back in surprise as he understood.

"You're blind," he whispered. "No, stay!" he exclaimed when he saw the vigilante was about to bolt. "I don't mean any harm. Just wanted to meet you…" he explained.

"Meet me?"

"Maze heard about you. I admit I was curious as to who would call himself the devil."

"Maze?"

"My personal demon and currently my best barista."

"And you're the devil…"

Lucifer sighed. "You, humans have spent centuries telling stories about me, yet when I come, you refuse to accept my existence."

"I've got a rather good knowledge of the Bible. I must have missed the chapter where Lucifer is a bar owner."

"You're a Catholic?" Lucifer asked in surprise. A Catholic calling himself the devil, there really was a story there.

"Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"What you do and what the Book teaches you…" Lucifer frowned. "What does your priest think about it?"

"Not that fond of it, but if something needs to be done about the violence, he'd rather have it done by someone who won't cross the line."

Matt frowned, surprised by his own words. He usually wasn't that forthcoming with strangers. But there was something about this man that almost compelled him to talk freely, admitting things he didn't like to address most of the time.

Lucifer couldn't help a smile. He still had his "thing" as Chloe called it. Although apparently it wasn't only his eyes that forced the person to talk. He had never really wondered how his gift worked, he just knew that it did.

"That line about killing…"

"It's one of your most important commandments isn't it?"

"Dad's. Yes," Lucifer grumbled.

"Dad?" Daredevil asked in surprise, then realized the meaning, "oh…"

Lucifer, the angel, sent by God to rule of Hell. Either this guy knew the Bible inside out better than anyone… or he was the real deal. Which Matt was having some trouble believing.

But then again, if a guy with a hammer from another planet partnered with a genius who built a super armor, finding out the Lord of Hell had decided to come up on earth to live among humans…

"So you decided to take a break from your job? Or did you decide to punish them before they got to your place?"

"I decided to take a vacation. And with guys like you around, you certainly ease up the work load."

"I always thought there is hope for everyone."

"Yeah, I see that," Lucifer mumbled. "Good thing I get to meet you in New York, you probably already have your spot booked up there," he added pointing to the sky.

"Not so sure about that," Matt whispered.

"Feeling guilty, are we?" Lucifer asked with a smirk. "What is it? The punching the daylights out of the bad guys or picking the Devil name?"

Daredevil didn't answer but Lucifer saw the minute body reaction.

"You get a thrill out of it but you don't own up to it," Lucifer chuckled. "There's nothing wrong in punishing the bad guys. I mean, I did it for over a thousand years, and it felt great."

Matt looked at him, focused on his senses. Lucifer exuded calm and pride. Only the devil himself could be proud of this kind of admission.

"You really are the Devil himself," he stated hesitantly.

"As I have been telling you for the past ten minutes! Why is it so difficult for you to believe it?" Lucifer shook his head. "I find it much more difficult to believe that you are blind and yet do all the stuff you do."

"Nothing surreal about it. Just bad luck and a close encounter with chemicals when I was a kid."

"Heightened senses?"

"Yes," Matt admitted freely.

There really was something about this guy that made him talk more than usual. Either this guy was really the Devil and apparently had some sort of gift. And after all, if you were the devil you needed to have people tell you the truth… Or he was a lunatic and talking to him was kind of fun, no one would believe what he said anyway. Sometimes it was kind of liberating to be able to talk about his gift. But he didn't want to dwell too much on it. He noticed Lucifer was shivering.

"Still not used to our winter, are you?"

"I live in L.A."

Matt couldn't help a chuckle. The devil among the angels. He really had it all covered. "And you came all the way across the country, just to meet me?"

"Actually I had intended to teach you a lesson. I do not enjoy people using my name."

"Not my…"

"I know, I know," Lucifer interrupted. "You didn't pick the name. Anyway, you're okay, so I'll let it go this once. You can carry on punishing the bad guys," he stated. And he waved a hand sending Daredevil on his way.

Matt opened his mouth to answer and realized he actually didn't know what to say. This guy was totally crazy. He probably needed to be committed but Matt had enough work with the thugs. He wasn't going to start taking care of all the lunatics that prowled the New York streets.

"Enjoy your stay in New York," he finally said before jumping to the nearest fire escape and onto the roofs.

"I certainly will," Lucifer whispered. He had seen some ladies a couple of streets away. It was time to find some company for the night.

The end