Twelve year-old Beatrice Espinoza stomped into the kitchen and dropped her backpack with a thud that her stepfather had come to find ominous. He turned down the heat on his sauce, letting it simmer, then put two chocolate chocolate chip cookies onto a plate.

"Don't tell your mum," Lucifer suggested, sliding the plate in front of the girl.

Trixie's sullen expression lightened a little. She broke off a piece of the cookie. "My science homework is impossible," she groused, before popping the cookie into her mouth.

"I highly doubt that seventh-grade science work is impossible," Lucifer replied, his voice automatically dropping into a soothing cadence, even though he knew it wasn't likely to work. "Get it out and we can take a look." Seeing Trixie's skeptical expression, he added, his tone defensive, "It's not like it's history. We can't get in too much trouble."

Trixie took another bite of cookie before leaning down to rummage in her backpack. "It is impossible, and it's your fault," she retorted.

No, that soothing tone seemed to have made things worse. Really, Lucifer reflected, he should have remembered after that last time, at the mall.

"How is it my fault?" Lucifer protested. "I don't even know your science teacher!"

Trixie took a folder out of her backpack and put it on the table with a thump, then opened the folder to take out a paper. Thrusting the paper at Lucifer, she accused, "You married my mom!"

Lucifer took the paper as he replied placatingly, "You didn't mind it at the time. You even gave your mum away at the wedding." He glanced at the paper, and winced. "Oh. Right. Well, it's not just my fault. I mean, your father complicated things, too." Frowning at the paper, he said, "It's not very politically correct to do family trees nowadays, though, what with all the ways families are put together."

Nodding dolefully, Trixie said, "But Mrs. DeLuca is old, and she said she's always done them. There's an alternate assignment, but it's an essay -" Her tone spoke volumes of disdain. "- about our heritage." Brightening suddenly, she asked, a glint of mischief in her dark eyes, "Can I write about your side of the family?"

Briefly, Lucifer considered it, but then he shook his head, handing back the paper. "Mrs. DeLuca would say that you're writing fiction, and she'd mark you down for it, and neither of us wants to explain that to your mum."

"Where is she?" Trixie thought to ask, though not without a regretful sigh for the essay that would never be.

Lucifer nodded toward the bedroom. "Having a bit of a lie-down before dinner."

Trixie nodded, her expression clearing. "Well, then, I might as well work on this. I'll start with me - Beatrice Jane Espinoza." She spoke as she wrote, drawing out the syllables to suit the speed of her writing. "And then Mom and Dad, and -" She consulted her paper. "- the line with the slashes means divorced..." She could talk about it easily now, though that hadn't always been the case.

Trixie filled out the information for her grandparents with no problems, and made a mental note to call her nana to get the information about her great-grandparents.

"Now," she said, drawing Lucifer's attention back from his sauce. "The hard part. I mean, seriously, unless I make this an origami project, too, I don't see how it's going to work." She filled in Lucifer's name, adding, "I mean, not even getting into what we're going to call your dad - and that wasn't a request for suggestions -" Seeing that Lucifer was not, for once, commenting on his father, Trixie continued, "- your mom has to be here -" She tapped the spot for Lucifer's mother. "- and then over here, married to Dad."

"Worst decision ever," Lucifer muttered.

"Hey," Trixie protested. "You're talking about my father!"

"And we know I'm so good with fathers..." Lucifer lifted a placating hand, clarifying, "As a matter of fact, it was your father who made the bad decision, in my opinion, but Mum seems to make him happy, so..."

Mollified, Trixie tried folding the paper, then looked up, smiling. "So Dad is your stepfather, right?"

"Don't remind me."

"And so I'm your stepdaughter and your stepsister," Trixie continued, her smile turning to an outright grin, displaying the turquoise rubber bands on her braces.

Lucifer sighed. "Yes, child. We've been over this."

"But it's never going to stop being funny!" Trixie replied, her foul mood gone; it was worth a little teasing, Lucifer decided, to see her smile like that. "And Dad's my step-grandfather..."

With a grin, Lucifer suggested, "Remind him of that the next time he tries to ground you for something. Grandparents are supposed to be more lenient, after all." He paused a beat, then reminded her, "I wouldn't call Mum 'Grandma,' though."

Nodding wisely, Trixie agreed, "She wouldn't like that." Frowning at the paper, though her expression was more thoughtful than annoyed, she said, "I still don't see how this is going to work."

Lucifer turned the burner on low, then stepped around to stand at Trixie's side, considering the paper. "Right, so she has to be here and... what, all the way over there?" Trixie nodded, and Lucifer puzzled over it a moment, then snapped his fingers. He took the paper and curved it with his hands, making a cylinder. "There you go," he said, pleased to provide help that might actually be seen as helpful, something that was getting increasingly difficult as Trixie got older. "Bit of sellotape and you'll have it."

"Scotch tape," Trixie corrected, though not without grudging admiration for Lucifer's solution.

"Oh, bollocks, the Scottish had nothing to do with it," Lucifer replied cheerfully, going back to the sauce and giving it a stir.

Trixie let that pass, instead considering the paper, muttering, "And that's not even dealing with your brothers and sisters. I think I can leave them out, but I'll have to fit Dad's brothers on here, too, somehow." She sighed. "What kind of tree is this?"

"A mangrove," Lucifer replied promptly. Seeing the girl's puzzled expression, he pulled his phone out of his breast pocket and, after a moment, showed her a picture of a tree with exposed, impressively-tangled roots.

Grinning, Trixie agreed, "That looks about right."

Lucifer nodded. "They're pretty remarkable, mangroves. They can live in really salty water, water with not much oxygen."

Trixie's puzzlement rapidly changed to a stare of disbelief. "Wait, how do you know that?"

Lucifer shifted a little uncomfortably. "Well, there was a documentary on the other night..."

Unfooled, Trixie asked, "Which you watched because...?"

Lucifer bit back a smile. She was so like her mother. "Your mum was sleeping on my arm," he admitted. "And I couldn't reach the remote. I wasn't about to risk waking her, not when she was finally getting some rest." Trixie nodded her approval, and Lucifer continued, "Mangroves protect the coastline, too, from erosion and the like."

"Like Mom and Dad," Trixie approved, amending after a moment, "And you."

"While I doubt that the good people of this city have to deal with erosion on a personal level, I suppose you're right. And thank you for that addition," Lucifer added, with a wry smile. "There are mangroves in Bermuda - well, among other places. We should go this summer, when you're out of school and everything has settled down around here."

Though the prospect of a vacation was clearly pleasant, the look Trixie gave Lucifer was one of pity. "You really think things will settle down by this summer? Try never! It happened to Brylee last year and she said things will never be the same."

Privately, Lucifer reflected that he was glad Trixie had gotten over that phase of spelling her name 'Trixee', something that had started soon after she'd made Brylee's acquaintance. The hooker name was bad enough without having to listen to her explain the spelling. "Well, no," he allowed. "I'm sure things won't be the same. But we'll be used to the changes by then. I'm sure a little trip won't be out of the question."

"We'll see what Mom says," Trixie replied skeptically, and Lucifer nodded in acknowledgment. Trixie grinned suddenly, accusing, "You just want to go to the Devil's Triangle!"

"What?" Lucifer protested. "Beatrice, that place has nothing to do with me. It's a bunch of superstitious nonsense. No, I don't want to see the Triangle, but there was a nightclub on the beach last time I was there, though - literally, on the beach, not just near it. Maybe we should try something like that at Lux..."

Trixie asked brightly, "Can I watch when you tell Patrick about putting sand on the floor?"

"Mm, excellent point," Lucifer mused. "Maybe not. We'd be finding sand forever, likely in all sorts of uncomfortable places."

"What, did you two go to the beach without me?" Both of them looked over as Chloe made her ponderous way into the room, one hand resting on the small of her back, the other on the curve of her belly.

Lucifer moved to greet Chloe, curling an arm around her and stealing a gentle kiss before arranging a chair for her. "Of course not, my darling. We were just talking about potential improvements to Lux, and Beatrice quite rightly pointed out that sand would not go over well."

Chloe shook her head at the chair. "I'd never get back up," she demurred. Stepping over to Trixie, she asked, "How was your day, baby?"

"Okay," Trixie replied, though without enthusiasm. "Mrs. DeLuca is making us do a family tree. It's stupid, but my favorite brother Lucifer helped me figure out how to get it to work." She smiled sweetly at the Devil.

Lucifer made an exasperated noise, though he allowed, "I'd rather be related to you than most of my actual siblings..."

Chloe shot Lucifer a fond look, then asked Trixie, "Did you leave room for your sister?"

Trixie shrugged. "The assignment's due day after tomorrow, and since she's not here yet..."

Chloe didn't say anything, but she did so meaningfully, her eyebrows lifting as she regarded her family.

"What, now?" Lucifer queried, alarmed.

"Did you think she was going to live in here forever?" Chloe teased gently, rubbing her abdomen.

"I considered it," Lucifer replied, wide-eyed.

Trixie, however, was already in motion. She dashed into Chloe and Lucifer's room for her mother's bag. "Lucifer, turn off the stove," she ordered.

"Right," he agreed, moving to do just that.

"Guys," Chloe said, her tone fond. "We can take a minute."

Trixie was having none of that. She thrust the bag into Lucifer's hands. "I'll call Maze, and she'll call everybody else." She pulled out her phone, then paused to grin at Lucifer. "Our mangrove is getting bigger."

Lucifer took a moment to smile at his family. "Indeed."