Chapter 1: Beaches are special places, aren't they?

Lucifer had always loved the beach and Santa Monica pier, the sound of the softly crashing waves, mixing with the background humming sound of human amusement. Ah, the smell of fresh ocean air mixing with sweet candy, roasted almonds and popcorn! But now the place felt alien and lonely, despite all the people around him.

His mother was gone. He had knelt in the sand in front of the body she had inhabited and which he had become used to addressing as "Mum". Finally, the danger was over! He felt completely exhausted, tired as never before, even cold, but also strangely - sad. (At least by now he recognized that this was sadness, thanks to Doctor Linda!) To his utter surprise, the original Charlotte Richards was alive, something that his Mum must have taken care of when she left the body she had inhabited. For what reason? The goddess had not cared about humans, this special project of his dad she so despised. Perhaps she had left Charlottes form as a kind of consolation to Amenadiel and him? He sighed. He would never be able to ask her.

Chloe fumed. That Richards woman pissed her off, again! Now she acted completely weird, as if she did not remember anything! Lucifer had told her that this would not do any good. He knew something and did not let her in on it, which added to her annoyance.

Lucifer looked up to where the detective currently questioned Charlotte with growing frustration, he could see that from her posture and body language. She did not know the full truth. How much easier could things would be if he could just tell her "my mum's gone now to build up a new universe and surprisingly Charlotte Richards is back in her body and alive!" Ha! Lucifer chuckled inwardly, and briefly imagined how this may earn him a second trip to the mental hospital if he blurted that out in front of the precinct colleagues securing the crime scene. And, more important, a worried look from his beloved detective (the latter being the reason for not saying it!). But he also had to protect her from all of his family including him, didn't he? He sighed; the old pain about the necessity to protect Chloe and keep her out of the manipulations of his divine family nagging at his heart like a badly healed wound.

Lucifer fidgeted with his cufflinks without noticing it. He needed a bit of a time out to process everything. When he'd heard the gunshots ringing he knew what had happened without looking: That the detective had taken down Hector Ruiz after he had shot at Mum, trying to kill her. Lucifer could still feel the bullet he had grabbed out of thin air in his pocket. He was not afraid for Chloe any longer. Dan dashing to Charlottes' side and pushing him away in the process was the best proof he could get that the detective was fine, even before she came down to them to question Charlotte, after securing the crime scene on the pier. He even felt a bit sorry for Detective Dan-Douche who had looked so crestfallen with Charlottes exclamation of "…and who are you...?!"

The Devil sighed and took a few steps closer to the shoreline. The sounds of amusement faded and the rhythmic sounds of the waves, the special smell of fresh ocean air and the squeaking sounds of the seagulls took over, soothing his vibrating nerves. Relief washed over him like the soothing wave sounds, accompanied by little, strange chilling showers. No one had been blown up, the flaming sword had indeed worked its magic, after all. He had let all his fear, his worry and the immense sea of sadness where it came to his relationship to Chloe pour into the sword. And it had ignited unfailingly, like one of this funny laser swords in those star wars movies. Who knows if they did not borrow the idea from the divine original! Humankind had a strange way of keeping myths through the ages. Funny how these things turned up in ancient or nowadays fairy tales (such as the star wars movies). A brief flickering memory crossed his mind. "I cannot read minds, I'm not Jedi" he had told Chloe on their very first encounter. A shame she hadn't seen him with the flaming sword! He smiled grimly.

His mother had accepted his desperate plea, "Let there be light!" He had used the very same words he once had used when he had lit up the stars, eons ago, when he had been able and still interested in pleasing her, as a young, invincible, proud archangel, before she had grown cold and uninterested in him or his siblings. Or so it had seemed. Today she had sobbed when she recognized his words! It had felt odd when she had touched his cheek, for the last time. The touch had stirred something in him. To his utter surprise she had taken the chance he had offered to her, instead of wreaking havoc. The a solution for his dilemma had come to him spontaneously: For as much as he had wished to get rid of her since her escape from hell, to stop all her interference in his life, he now felt strangely hollow and left behind by her departure. Damn human emotions all over again! Another unwanted memory popped up. "If anyone can find a solution it is you, my light-bringer!" she had said, just before he had failed so miserably and killed his own brother. This time he had succeeded: The solution had suddenly come out of nowhere to his mind when the need for it, the danger, was greatest.

He stopped at the shoreline to watch the ocean, lost in thoughts as the sun's rays gradually gained longer-wave radiation, causing the light to become more golden. (Of course he remained in a secure distance to the waves, so that the salty water would not ruin his Italian leather shoes!) A swish, and then something hit his right forehead with full force and an audible thud. His head flinched but he reflexively grabbed the projectile with his supernatural reflexes. He flipped into a fighting position, round projectile in hand, eyes briefly flickering red. Only to see that he had cached - a ball. His "attacker" was a little boy about Trixie's age, with curly black hair and large, petrified brown eyes who nearly lost it at the brief sight of his hell gaze. "Oh no, oh sorry, mister….!" The boy's voice was shaking in fear; Lucifer's fine hearing picked up the whispering of the boys' ball-playing mates behind him "…hey, let's run, Luca, don't approach him!" and "…be careful, there was a shooting on the pier, he might be dangerous..."

But the boy named Luca did something Lucifer appreciated, despite this dislike of children in general. He took responsibility for his hit, gulped down his fear, moved his chin up and approached him, determined. A second light-blonde tiny boy moved to Luca's side to support him, taking Luca's hand. The brown and the fair boy made an adorable pair. "I'm sorry, you walked straight into our soccer field, Mister", Luca explained. "We thought you'd have seen us, but obviously you didn't….",the tiny friend of his piped up. "It was me who I hit you with the ball, I didn't mean to", Luca confessed. "Are you hurt…are you angry…?" he added. "…'cause you look like hell!", his fair-haired friend blurted out from behind, immediately shushed by Luca. Lucifer softened his stare and relaxed his body.

He hunkered down to avoid towering over the boys. "Everything is o.k. Other than my pride you did not hurt any part of me", he assured them, as well as himself, after the recent events. Than he held the ball with his outstretched hand for them to take. The boys sighed unison in relief and snatched their ball out of his hands, flickering him a hesitant smile. Within seconds they melted back into the cheering crowd of ball-playing kids. All potential threads by the tall stranger were quickly forgotten as they dived back into their game. Another wave of gratitude hit him while he watched them. These kids now had a chance to grow into adults. Straightforward adults, likely, in the case of the adorable pair of Luca and his tiny friend.

The sun was setting now; he barely noticed. Parents were packing their picnic stuff and called for their kids. The ball playing group fell apart, kid by kid, the last two to leave with their happily chatting parents were the dark-skinned Luca and his fair-haired friend, debating about game strategies and their recent encounter. Luca turned around and beamed at him, waving. Why did kids so often like me? he wondered. Well, at least these boys did not hug him like Trixie always did. Children and their preferences, desires and performances still remained one of the greatest mysteries on earth to him!

Lucifer walked back through the falling darkness towards the blinking lights of the amusement pier, lights now spiked by blue blinking police and ambulance car flashes; towards his equally exhausted detective, still in command of the crime scene. Dan stood opposite to the ambulance on the pier with his back to Chloe. His body language signalled sadness, defeat, confusion. Lucifer felt a puzzling (disgusting!) connection to the douche – he, too, had just lost a loved one.

Lucifer drank in the vision of his detective, with delight and heart-felt gratitude. She was still there. Alive. And commanding – how he loved it when her inner strength shone out of her actions, when she ordered others around. He knew that she mostly did not even notice that she gave orders: She just did what had to be done, and those humans around her usually did what she told them, just because they sensed her competence and inner strength. For him, she always radiated light from within.

Obviously, when he approached her, the detective had just finished to interrogate Charlotte Richards who was now being carried away on a stretcher to an ambulance, clutching her head. Lucifer wondered where the soul of the real Charlotte had been. She must have died just when his Mum had taken over her body. So, her soul must either have resided in the Silver City, or been in Hell. He made a mind note to find out soon where she'd been, and to check if she might be a danger to others like Malcolm had been, turned into a lunatic by his 30 seconds in Hell.

He damn well knew that the detective was not satisfied with his behaviour in this case, not at all! But he would gladly take whatever verbal spanking she had in store for him, as long as she was unhurt and alive. He felt a strong surge to tell her everything, longed to share his burden and loneliness. Before he had met her he did not even recognize that he was lonely. He even felt this strange sensation again, this non-sexual desire to hold her in his arms (and wasn't that weird!): Like he had done after they (no, Maze! he corrected himself) had caught her father's killer. Or on the beach when she had kissed him. Well, it was not non-sexual then…. But still. There was always more than just sex involved when he thought of her. Strange! All of this seemed so far away, like ages ago, when he still had thought their relationship was genuine, untampered with. But now he knew he had to protect her from him, from his messed-up divine family. Had to keep his mouth shut, didn't he? Didn't he?

And then she surprised him, again, by what she said. Beaches obviously were special places for them, were they not? It felt as if he had already revealed himself to her when she said, with these wise-old-being eyes she sometimes had, "…when you think that I do not forgive you, for your flaws and mistakes; when you think that I do not know who you are by now, you're wrong". Looking into her blue-green eyes brought him close to the cracking point. He stammered, barely managing to keep his mouth shut about all he wanted to say, to share with her. "….at this point, either you trust me or you don't", Chloe finished with a beautiful tiny, but distant smile. She turned around to take care of the last duties at crime scene, leaving the stricken, exhausted Devil behind who stared after her longingly.