***Note - this is Part Three of the Scrubs/Lucifer Crossover, so far***
1- Pudding Cousins
2- Bajingo Club
3- Lucifer, Interrupted
4- Sanguine Heart
Elliot waited to meet him out in the parking lot, armed with a visitor badge in hand. She wanted to chaperone him away from people she didn't want him to see today. Or them to see him. From what she witnessed in his club, he drew people to him like cats to spilled cream and he'd cause a distraction.
Three years of interning and residency at Sacred Heart taught her a few things about hospital navigation. Between double door elevators, back hallways, many medical supply closets, and cut-throughs of unused rooms, she could get around when she wanted to.
He arrived at 1 pm on the nose, gleefully parking his sleek black Corvette alongside Cox's Porsche, in rumbling challenge. Top down, he blared music she'd bet her life had the word 'Devil' it in, several times. Untouched by the drive over, his midnight hair remained perfectly styled in place, defying the nature of wind itself.
Of course, the Devil drove a Corvette. She was half surprised it wasn't fire engine red.
Could he be more of a stereotype? Well, if he hadn't committed to the persona wholeheartedly, she wouldn't have requested the interview. It had taken a long month of cajoling to get him over here, between her schedule and him dragging his feet. Over the phone, she promised a favor to be returned at a later date.
His California vanity plate read 'FALL1N1'. Which begged the question, who the hell got 'FALLEN1'?
She picked at the 'V' collar of her dull blue scrubs, suddenly unsure of what she had agreed to.
Elliot led Lucifer into the empty classroom, more aware than usual that her hospital smelled like, imagine that, a hospital. "Thanks for coming in today, Satan!"
The Devil opposite did not look amused. "Please call me 'Lucifer'."
If she didn't know better, she'd think he didn't like her. Maybe he was moody.
"Everything okay with you?
Elliot hopped up on a desk, notepad in hand and a tape recorder placed nearby. Her hair hung straight and loose, trademark bangs half across her face. Today was 'pale blue scrubs' day, with a long sleeved navy undershirt against the constantly too-cold hallways.
Soon she could start wearing a white coat and the world would be hers.
"As well as expected. At least there's not much traffic this time of day." He didn't ask about her.
Lucifer sat, lounging in one of the hard plastic and metal class chairs, uncomfortably. The humming fluorescent ceiling panel lights did them no favors. The room was as overly air-conditioned as the rest of the hospital and she swore she could feel exposed skin drying by the minute.
He already looked like he had second thoughts about being here.
Numerous DO NOT DISTURB signs were taped to the outside of the door, some scrawled by hand, by her. Similar letter size paper sheets and posters obscured the glass windows to reduce potential rubbernecking.
Elliot had asked him to dress comfortably. He wore another medium-grey three-piece, apparently was his regular attire. His brilliant sky blue silk button-up mocked her scrubs in both color and style. A patterned pocket square, primarily rich sapphire, occupied his front pocket. Several hospital employees had already asked him if he was a lawyer. She figured she had a 50/50 chance of Ted making an appearance or tucking tail and staying in his office.
She probably could have used her brand new Co-Chief Resident office, but she didn't think Lucifer's long legs would even fit under the desk. Plus, J.D. would give her hell.
Elliot thanked her lucky stars they made it all the way to the classroom without encountering either Kelso or Cox. Turk got a look at them from the end of a hallway and unsubtly kept going.
She grabbed some coffee from the work pot in the room, leftover from the morning shift. She drew up her feet, sitting cross-legged on the table, in attempt to at least feel like the taller person in the room. It didn't work.
"So, Lucifer," She drew out his name, tasting it. "You know I've blocked out some time to have a chat and put together notes for my paper. I'm recording this conversation so I can go back and compare my notes, okay?"
He seemed to be watching a kitten video on his phone. "So we've already begun, then?"
"If it's okay, my friend and colleague Dr. Molly Clock should be here any second, and we can get started."
"Was she at the party?"
"No, she's usually out of town. She's a psychiatrist. I think you'll like her." Elliot clicked her pen. "Also, Turk calls her the 'Devil Woman'. I mentioned you and she wanted to see someone with, uhm, an alternate identity, and not another one of her insane patients for a change."
The look on his face said he'd heard some version of that before. "Intriguing." The tone of his voice said it wasn't. "Devil Woman?"
A light patterned rap attacked the door. Molly swung it open and leaned inside, casting an uninhibited eye over him. "Oh, I am a fan of the Devil already."
Lucifer extracted himself from the chair. There was no other word for the lithe motion. "Elli! you didn't mention she's a drop-dead gorgeous bombshell. Do come in." he offered his hand.
Elliot bit her lip.
Molly just so happened to be wearing a low-cut pink top with her lab coat. Her perfect honey gold waves fell behind her shoulders like she belonged on the cover of a dirty romance novel featuring doctors. Her face lit up with her smile. "Hi, I'm Dr. Molly Clock."
"Molly, dear, lovely name. I'm Lucifer. Might I comment that 'Devil Woman' suits you perfectly.
"Thanks!" Molly reached up to touch his face with both palms, her bright blue eyes seeking his. "Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer."
"Pardon?"
Elliot waved. "Don't mind her. She does that to remember names."
Molly blinked and stepped back with a shining smile on glossed lips. "Okay, that probably wasn't necessary in this case, but I wanted to do it anyway. I came to observe, but I might jump in now and then. Elliot told me about you and and just had to drop in since I'm in town. We don't get many Devils here. There is a 'Jesus' upstairs on the fourth floor, but he's not my patient."
Elliot pulled at her scrubs and vaguely wished for the three millionth time that they were fitted. At all. "Okay, let's start by stating your name for the record."
"Right, then." He gifted Molly a quick smile in return and sat again, leaving his phone away this time.
Frick. Why did she have to be so darn pretty?
He smiled winningly, as if the recorder were video and not mere audio tape. "Lucifer Morningstar, ex-ruler of hell, once most favored son of God, also known as the 'Devil' or 'Satan' to you mortals. There's a number of other names I'm known by, but those are the most common. Do you wish them stated?"
"No, this is good. Okay, how about your birth name?"
He groaned. "Is that really necessary?"
Yup, he was going to be difficult. "Don't worry, I'll leave this out of the background information. This interview is entirely about your persona and your connection to him."
"Samael."
"Last name?"
"That's the whole name, unless you want to add 'The Lightbringer'. But I don't use it anymore."
Molly sat near Elliot. "Sparkly?"
"No."
She blew her bangs out of her face. "Okay, we can revisit that. So, how long have you been Lucifer?"
"How often are you going to rudely insinuate that I am not who I say I am?"
"Oh," she hated her nervous giggle, but couldn't stop herself. "I'm collecting background information - I have to ask these questions as if I know absolutely nothing about you, does that help?"
Lucifer retrieved a flask from inside his jacket. "I don't suppose there's a bar in this place?"
"Ha! Uh, no. Several doctors would be unconscious most of the time if one were inside the hospital." She hooked a thumb behind her head. "There's a bar a few blocks down the way that most of us go to."
"Well, that makes sense, then, I suppose. Keeping temptations at arm's length so workers stay productive."
"And there you are, already in character."
"You're just as bad as Ella."
"She, uhm, doesn't 'believe' you either?"
"Firmly in Dad's camp, I'm afraid, but she is sympathetic."
Elliot scratched out a box chart. "Your father - oh, okay, Ella's a Christian?"
"To more or less a degree, yes."
"Does anyone you know 'believe' you? Co-workers, your employees at the club, or friends?
"Dan and Chloe, of course. Dr. Linda Martin, my therapist, as far as humans go. Maze, naturally. Oh, and the dozen or so deplorable humans who I revealed my true face to. Always gratifying."
Molly arched an eyebrow. "True face?"
"After being thrown from paradise, my body burned in hell. I had an alternate appearance. Quite unpleasantly crispy, really, but useful from time to time."
"Had?"
"My Devil Face, as I called it, has been taken away. Not having it to call on has been limiting, but I get around it."
"I see." Elliot turned to Molly. "Oh, you'll like this - Dan and Chloe are his partners."
Molly perched her face in her hands. "Oh, the Devil is an equal opportunity banger? That's a surprise. Except not."
His lips quirked. "I think the current term is 'pansexual. And it turns out I'm as perfectly happy to be in a committed relationship as I am having countless souls parade through my bedroom."
Molly bit her fingernail. "Huh. So the Devil is happy regardless of the source of the attention on him? Imagine that."
"Don't be silly."
"So, have you ever been happy with no one paying attention to you?"
Lucifer looked thoughtful.
Elliot tapped her notepad, "Okay, so let's talk about your personal life some more? So, uhm, profession. What do you do these days, Lucifer?"
He raised his eyebrow, finger on the side his face.
Nervous laugh. God, Elliot, stop that. "Right, again, questions as if I know nothing about you." She tried a placating hand, palm out.
"This is going to get tedious. Fine. I own and run the nightclub 'Lux' in downtown Los Angeles. I also work with the LAPD as a 'Civilian Police Consultant', is what they call me."
Molly bounced. "Oh, I've been there, Lux, not the police station. Nice place."
Elliot stopped her. "Ahem. How long have you been a business owner?"
"Around six or seven years. Maze could give you the exact dates."
"That's not a lot of time? What did you do before owning and managing the club?"
"Like I said, ruler of hell. No pay in that, by the way. I took holidays from time to time, visiting Earth as I desired. This time, I retired permanently."
This was not going to be easy. But that made it interesting. "So before that time, you hadn't spent, uhm, let's call it, significant time on earth? Just vacations? You came directly from hell and bought the club?"
"Correct."
I wonder why he picked less than a decade? "Okay, Mr. Morningstar, how long have you-did you manage hell?"
"If I had to place a number on it? Tens of thousand years, I suppose, give or take. Time in hell passes differently than up here."
Hmmm. What would he do with this question. "The earth is estimated to be around 4.6 billion years old. Did hell exist then?"
"Ah, but humanity has only walked it for a few million or a few hundred thousand years, depending on how you judge them. Hah. Judge them. That's Dad's job. In any case, there were none in hell or heaven before Eden."
"I see." She really didn't. "Uhm. So who was the first person in hell?" This line of questioning was already severely de-railing things she originally wanted to ask.
"Oh, that one is easy. Able."
Elliot paused. Wait, what?
Molly cut in, "Able? Biblical Able? Not Cain or Eve, the apple-muncher? Wait, wasn't Able the one who was murdered by his brother?"
"Oddly enough, Eve's not in hell, no idea why or why not. Able died first, in any case. He was an arsehole. World's first metaphorical dick and raging sinner." He paused as if he was going to add something, then continued.
"Maze cut her teeth on him. Literally and figuratively. Those were the early days when souls just started showing up and we weren't certain what precisely to do with them. Hell existed, but dear old Dad hadn't exactly left instructions after I was thrown from heaven."
Maze was awesome. And a little scary. "Maze, bartender and bounty hunter?"
"Mazikeen, my favorite and first demon. I forged her myself. She came with me because I needed her."
Of course she's a demon. Right. "What did you need her for?"
"I wasn't going back to hell, under any circumstances, so I asked her to cut off my wings."
Molly squinted.
Elliot picked it back up. "You, or someone else, mentioned wings at the party at your place. The same ones?"
"Well, new ones, technically."
She chewed her pen. "Technically."
"Maze did as I requested, and I had the severed limbs stored away for safekeeping. In retrospect, it was a huge mistake. They were stolen. Detective Decker did fabulous work in tracking them down for me, actually." He smiled. "Her first moment of believing me, she put out an APB on angel wings, and got a hit at an auction of all things. Anyway, the ones up for sale were fakes, but it still led to the wing thief."
"So, you got your wings back?"
He nodded. "I did, and then burned them."
"Burned them? That must have smelled like a flaming parrot. Not that I've ever accidentally set a parrot on fire for any reason. So you don't currently have wings?"
"Actually I do, the buggers grew back last year. A few times."
Her lips felt chapped. "I don't suppose you want to whip them out?"
"Honestly, it doesn't usually go well for the humans involved so I'd rather skip it. When my wings were stolen originally, it caused quite a few problems."
Elliot carefully took a sip of gross coffee, trying to get back on track. "So you were in charge of hell before anyone went there?"
"Indeed. We had some time to set the place up, as it were. Didn't exactly have all the comforts of home, mind you."
"Home as in...?"
"The Silver City, as it's known there."
Someone knocked on the door. That someone was J.D., making a pinched face between posters and moving to come inside. Molly and Elliot both jumped, having been absorbed in Lucifer's voice.
"Arg. One second." Elliot hopped up quickly and stopped him the door when he tried to push inside. "Can't you read? We're busy here."
J.D. shuffled, not looking at Lucifer. "You invited Satan in to the hospital. Nice. Now he can come back whenever he wants."
"He's not a vampire, J.D. That's not how it works. And I asked him to come here. I'm writing a medical paper on him, and Molly is observing."
"Ridiculously good-looking isn't a medical condition, Elliot. We have actual crazy people in the psych ward."
"He's not crazy. He's a functional member of society, which is more than you can say of the patient upstairs who believes he's dead. Or Bob, who thinks he's an actual bobcat."
"Kelso?"
"The other Bob. Scratchy Bob."
"Oh right." He lowered his voice. "Elliot, this is not a good idea. He's probably here for your soul. And you know how Laverne feels about that."
"She thinks I'm going to hell anyway - what difference would it make?"
Lucifer took a long pull from his flask, shifting his weight in the chair and pitching his voice at them. "You know I don't do that. I'm not here for souls."
J.D. flinched, which Elliot took perverse pleasure in.
He grumbled, "Does Dr. Cox know he's here?"
"Like he cares what I do. He knows I'm interviewing someone for my paper."
Lucifer broke in again. "He seems quite protective of you, Elli."
She glared. "Well, he recently broke my heart, so I'm not feeling so protective of him right now." To J.D. "Shoo. Go. I'm not talking to you right now. Stop getting in my face."
"So's your face."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"If he takes you to hell, say hi to Jordan for me."
"J.D., Jordan is alive."
"It sounded better in my head. Bye Molly, don't get eaten or whatever by Satan."
She threw the door closed in his face with a crack. stalking back to her desk, she picked her notes up again. "Sorry. Where were we?"
"Heaven."
Molly snorted.
"Right. Okay, let's backtrack a bit. J.D did say something that reminded me I need to ask you about any medications you might be on or any diagnosed medical conditions."
"All right. No prescribed medications and no previous diagnosis."
"What about Dr. Martin? You're seeing her for therapy, right?"
"More to bounce ideas off her. Don't get me wrong, she's been very insightful from time to time on the dealings of angels and demons."
"So...she's not treating you for anything, a condition?"
"After she came to accept my Devilness, she grew much more helpful with my personal and otherworldly problems. We didn't have to rehash old ground anymore, every single session, about my brothers and Dad and whatnot."
"Okay, so Linda sees you as Satan in her practice?"
Molly was still squinting.
"Oh yes. For some reason she fixated on the fact we'd had sex before she accepted who I was."
"But not since?"
"Shame. A scheduled lay is fun to look forward to."
Elliot felt herself getting warm. "Oh. Uhm. So have you seen any other doctors?"
"Not for Doctory-reasons. Oh! I did get an STD test recently."
Molly brushed her hair back. "The Devil gets STD's?"
"Actually, no. Incompatible biology, in that respect. but Chloe insisted."
"Whyyyyyyyyyyy?"
"That was before she was convinced I was the Devil. Now everything is fine."
Elliot frowned at her notepad. She might not have enough paper for this. "So, Dr. Linda hasn't put you on a medication? Can I ask if you're self-medicating? Other than the alcohol?"
"Well, I dabble in human and nature produced drugs from time to time. That's always fun."
That might explain a few things. "Okay, a lot of people have done that. Can you estimate what and how much on a weekly basis? Maybe just monthly?"
"The Detectives frown on drug use, so I've cut down quite a bit in the last few months out of respect for their views. Hoping to bring them around, but it's unlikely."
"Okay, so averaging out the last few years, what would you say you typically used?"
"Goodness. On an above average week? I guess half a kilo of cocaine. Granted, that much is extremely expensive, and I only indulged when I could nick it from the evidence lockers. I'm known to share, so divide that up a bit. The LAPD destroys the drugs, you know, no sense in wasting it."
Molly nodded "Lots of rationalization going on here, interesting."
Elliot coughed. "Ahem. Okay, so, if we did a hair test on you today, what would it turn up?"
"Oh, like they do at the police station? Devil's Weed, certainly. Not much else right, depending on how far back you can get."
"Okay, so we aren't going to run a hair test on you."
"Probably for the best."
"How's that?"
"My brother insists that samples of myself shouldn't be in human databases. Divinity and Humanity not mixing and all that."
"I see. So, your brother? Amen-something?"
"Amenadiel."
"Amenadiel, what?"
"No, I'm Lucifer. He's Amenadiel."
"I mean, does he have a last name?"
"Well, he sometimes goes by Dr. Canaan."
"Oh, he's a doctor too?"
"No."
Awesome. "So, he's your brother. Do you have a big family, or is it just you, your dad and him?"
"I have many brothers and sisters, oh and Mum."
"How many?"
"I'm not sure, but I'm fairly certain it's over a few hundred."
Elliot cocked her head. "So, all angels...?"
"Are siblings, yes."
She flipped through sheets of scribbles, scanning her notes. "Whew. Laverne does not need to see this. She will go ape nuts on me."
Quick sharp taps on the door drew them again. "Now what?"
She went to the door again, pulled it open a crack. Carla leaned in. "Luci! I just wanted to say hi, can I come in?"
He lit up. "Certainly, dear, don't you look ravishing today!"
Carla, wearing pink scrubs and hair back, brushed past Elliot and went in for a hug. Lucifer awkwardly returned it. "Still not great with that whole hugging thing huh?" She hung on to him, a second longer, smiling.
"Not a lot of hugging where I come from, no."
She pulled back, squeezing his hands and letting them go. "Well, get used to it. I hope Elliot isn't bothering you too much, sweetie."
"She's been tolerably professional. How were your nuptials?"
Carla waved him off. "Oh you know, near disaster. We didn't actually marry in the church, since Turk took an extra surgery that ran over. Then showed up at the wrong one. You wouldn't have enjoyed waiting around for no reason. I'm going to take as stab in the dark and guess you don't like churches."
He nodded with a playful smirk. "Stuffy places. Courthouse crash then?"
"Actually, there was a Father in the hospital who was able to marry before we left on honeymoon. It was so sweet of him."
"Ah. I knew a Father once. Good man." His gaze drifted away for a split second in a way Elliot was well familiar. He shook it off. "Carla dear, could you do me a solid?" Lucifer detoured to the crappy coffee station in the room, picking up an empty paper cup and lid.
"Sure?"
"Can you skip over to the bar and have them fill this up with whatever they have that's top-shelf?"
"I'm not an errand runner, you know. I have things to do."
He slipped her a hundred-dollar bill. "Keep the change. The cup shouldn't hold more than-" he eyeballed it. "Six shots."
"You know, I don't think the bar will let me just walk out with an open container."
He added another hundred. "Will that do? Next time I'll pack more flasks."
Molly smirked to herself. Elliot found herself gaping.
Carla smiled and collected the cup and cash. "You know what? I'll figure something out. Be right back."
"Gracias."
Elliot blinked, taking her seat again. "Do you always do that?"
"I find money usually gets me what I want. Dear cousin Carla is married now, so I didn't think offering sex would be appropriate. The Detectives frown on that too."
"Your club does that well, to throw money at people?"
"The business side of things does quite well, according to Maze, but I also have some other resources."
"Such as?"
"The buying and selling of artifacts. Once in a while on a previous holiday out of hell, I acquired items from time to time that gained considerable value, as judged by human standards. They paid for the club and the paperwork for the place."
"But you never bought yourself, uhm, a false identity to go with it?"
"I like being who I am. Why change that?"
"I guess that means you don't have a travel visa?"
"Nope."
"So, Lucifer, I guess that means you aren't actually British either?"
"No, but the accent is fun, isn't it? English is hardly the only language I speak."
Elliot bit her lip. She knew he spoke Spanish. "Sprichst du Deutsch?"
"Da."
"Que diriez-vous du français?"
"Oui."
Huh. "You drive without a license?"
"I don't have one, so yes."
"How has that never been - actually, don't answer that." Elliot rubbed her eyes, reminding herself to buy eye drops later. "Okay, let's see if there's anything else I can ask you that won't make my brain melt."
Molly tapped her chin, looking down her nose at Lucifer. "You believe yourself, don't you?"
"How's that?"
Elliot scratched her head, half-distracted by her scribbled writing. "Huh?"
Molly nodded sharply. "You one hundred percent believe you are The Prince of Darkness."
She shrugged. "Duh, that's why I asked him to come by."
"No, I mean, there's no extra layer in there. He's not thinking about how to 'be the Devil but not 'Jack' or 'Tom'.' He just is. I am surprised he says he hasn't been 'up here' that long."
Lucifer gave her a full smile. "Well thank you Molly, it's nice to be believed for a change."
Molly waved a finger at him. "Uh-uh. I didn't say I believed you, I said you believe yourself. Not that we don't have people upstairs who aren't similar, but they also have lapses where they revert. They sometimes lose focus, forget details of who they think they are, or were. They have frantic energy, not this casual overlay you seem to be doing."
Carla knocked and came back with a full cup of booze. "Hey, sexy Devil, I found you something."
"That was fast, thank you, love."
"Actually, Janitor told me about Dr. Kelso's secret drawer stash. We're splitting the finders fee. Bye!"
Elliot thought the Devil would react badly to that statement, but he just grinned and gave her a two-fingered salute. "Well done." He took a sip of the stuff as if it were coffee, tilting it back with a gulp. "Hmm...Tequila, not bad."
Molly raised her perfect eyebrows but otherwise didn't comment on the drink. They could smell the hard liquor from a few feet away. She did however, follow up on his question. "We're doctors. If I believed all of my patients - and what they said was true - we have a bunch of time travelers upstairs."
"You're as bad as the Detectives. Requiring physical proof of every little thing."
"Well, it's nice to know our LAPD still has high standards. You gave them proof?"
"Inadvertently. But they recovered from Divinity exposure quite nicely. The man who stole my original wings didn't do so well." Lucifer cocked his head around another drink. "You might even have him somewhere in your system, come to think of it."
Molly and Elliot squinted at each other. Molly would definitely go poking around in her files for anyone who received treatment for 'exposure to angel wings'.
Elliot continued. "Okay, so no hair samples, no other samples. Do you like working with the police?"
"Oh, yes, definitely. The nightclub is fun but much less satisfying than catching criminals."
"And they haven't had any issues 'working with The Devil'?" The Devil working for the police. Maybe I need to make a trip down there too.
He smirked. He did that a lot. "Well, not after I'd won them over with my vast array of talents."
I still want to know about your vast array of 'talents'. She coughed. "What do you do there that makes you valuable enough to keep around?"
"Well, I do this one bit all the time there, so I guess I can show you something I do with suspects. If this wasn't for your research, however, I'd consider it an abuse of my powers."
The women both leaned forward.
He pointed between them. "Eenie, meenie, minie - Molly." He got up, doing his stalking tiger walk thing, gently touching the tip of her chin with a forefinger, bringing his eyes level to hers. His voice dropped into low and seductive tones. "You're a lovely young woman, talented, dedicated, focused. Strikingly beautiful on the outside, but does your soul crave something dark? Is there more you're looking for?"
Elliot made a noise in her throat. Molly's azure blue eyes focused, latching onto him. "I want to stop traveling every-damn-where for my job."
"And? Anything else? Anything really illicit? Surely you can do better than that."
Molly wetted her lips. "I want to tell Elliot I have a screaming hot lesbian fantasy that involves her."
She blinked. The spell broke.
Unsettled, Elliot waved it off with a nervous chuckle. "Oh, please, everyone has a hot lesbian fantasy involving me."
Molly blushed, then appeared thoughtful. "Okay, that was weird. But, yeah, I do. It's like he compelled me to tell a truth."
She glanced at her friend. "You're straight though?"
She cocked her head. "Not entirely."
For some reason, a few male interns seemed focused on the classroom windows from outside, as well as one tall man in surgical scrubs.
Elliot gritted her teeth and barked, "SHOE SHOPPING!" Every frickin time.
They blinked and wandered off.
Molly straightened in her seat, watching him retake his. "So that's your trick? Lightning hypnosis?"
"No trick. And it often works well on suspects during interrogations. It tends to speed up case solving if I can get them to spill the beans. Sometimes it helps by revealing innocent suspects and we can let them go sooner."
Elliot checked her recorder. "They take your word on those? Taking the Devil's word for it can't be regular police practice, right?"
"Not always. Usually it does lead to finding evidence faster, one way or another. I understand the Detective's case closing rate has increased significantly since I signed on." He drained the coffee cup of tequila. "Ah, much better."
Molly stood, took the cup from him and sniffed it.
"What?"
She tasted the rim. "That was at minimum six shots of 80 proof booze. Even the doctors I go drinking with tend to space it out a bit." She placed the cup on a table next to her.
New rapid tapping, again ignoring the signs, came at the glass wall. Now what? Looking up, she detected a hint of boingy curls traveling above one of her many signs. The taps traveled across the windows, all the way to the door, and kept going. "Ah, hell. Lucifer, I might ask you to do that thing again."
"Oh?"
She got up, again. "Dr. Cox is here. My pager hasn't gone off, so none of my patients are dying, meaning he just decided to come be a pain in my ass."
"Your boss, right?" Lucifer stood, pulling his jacket straight, bringing himself up to his full height. "Quick question, do you hate him or like him?"
Elliot, hand on the door, hesitated. "I respect him." She ran her fingers through her hair nervously and pulled the door open. "Dr. Cox? Can I help you?"
A lean, tall man had an elbow on the doorframe. "Hello, Barbie. Scarlett tells me you let Satan into the building. Normally I'd assume Kelso got locked out and for some godforsaken reason you let him back in. However, Dr. Kelso was standing right next to me, so I can only assume he meant your new friend here-" He cut off to lean into the room "-Who looks very much not like a crazy person, or any of our other friends upstairs."
"I'm interviewing him for a medical paper. Honestly, I should have just sent out a memo. Dr. Clock is helping me. Now, are you going to come in, or close the door and scoot before you suck all the air out of the room?"
Molly waved cheerfully around Elliot. Cox didn't respond to her.
"Fine." he stepped in. "Mostly I wanted to see why you blocked off this room for three hours when you could have just gone upstairs to the psych ward. Or maybe no one is coding and I'm avoiding your bestie who appears to be pacing a hole in the lounge."
Elliot pointed her notepad at him. "Because he's not crazy, I think. And I don't need actual crazy patients tackling him. Or me. That floor is not exactly conducive to quiet discussions." She blew her bangs out again. "Dr. Cox, come meet Lucifer Morningstar, he owns a nightclub downtown, and he's...The Devil. Lucifer, meet my attending, Perry Cox. He more or less runs the whole show here."
Measuring them up, Cox was no more than an inch shorter than Lucifer. The Devil and Doctor shook hands. Lucifer smiled disarmingly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Hmm. Whatcha doing topside, Satan? If you're here for my ex-wife-"
"Save the joke, please, Jordan is a lovely woman. I'm pleased she came out to the club."
Cox narrowed his eyes. "She's evil incarnate. Did you sleep with her?"
"Not at all. A few months ago, I certainly would have considered it, but I'm currently claimed by others who wouldn't appreciate a dalliance."
"You don't have a problem volunteering that information?"
"You don't seem to have a problem asking."
"Fair enough. So it turns out the Devil is a tall, dark and handsome fellow from L.A. That's not ironic at all."
"From hell. I only relocated to L.A. in the last decade."
"My bad. What makes you so special that Reid here took an interest?"
Lucifer looked at Elliot. "You tell me. I agreed because of a request from Carla."
Cox snorted. "Right, Jordan mentioned something about an estrogen festival somewhere recently."
Elliot cleared her throat. "I asked Lucifer here for my write up because he's actually the literal Devil. Visiting us from hell, on extended vacation, and slash or permanent retirement."
Molly cocked her head. "Is this part of the thing?"
She responded to Molly, leaning toward her. "I'm playing along, I want to see how interactions go when I'm not falling over drunk. So, Dr. Cox, you have actual Satan here in at Sacred Heart, and no, the irony is not lost on me. What do you do?"
Dr. Cox eyed the three of them, focusing on Lucifer. "Wanna get a drink?"
The Devil had his flask out again, tipping it to check for weight. "I thought you'd never ask. I could do with a re-up."
Elliot intervened. "After we're done, okay? Then we'll all get crazy drunk down the way."
Lucifer agreed, "It's a deal." After a pause. "Are we done yet?"
Dr. Cox hmmfp'd. "So you do deals? Typical. In exchange for?"
"Favors. Obviously I don't need the cash, and managing a network of souls who owe me at a variety of levels is quite helpful with my own affairs and police work. So, what would you make a deal for?"
Dr. Cox did that hand-nose flick thing. "Keep the damn reapers away for a few hours longer. Put in a word with the big fella upstairs to make people regrow organs, that'd be helpful, and solve at least half our problems."
"Dad and I aren't on good terms. There are no grim reapers, so I'm afraid I can't help there either. I'd suggest you talk to Dad yourself, but He doesn't tend to respond."
He crossed his arms. "At least you didn't pretend otherwise. I'd have you thrown out on your ear if you went around to patients and making false promises or fake trades."
"As well you should. I consider myself to have a great deal of integrity. I don't lie. I won't make a deal I can't hold my end up of."
Cox's gaze went flat. "Satan doesn't lie, eh?"
Elliot and Molly simultaneously adjusted their seats, watching in rapt attention.
"Never."
"Okay, patron saint of black cats and loose floor Legos, riddle me this. Why does God hate us?"
Lucifer drew back. "Hate you? He might be a negligent and absent parent, but He doesn't hate you lot. Granted, I can see how you feel that way, He's a bit of a bugger. I suspect, however, that's not the question you really want to ask, is it?" Lucifer wandered closer, his eyes coming up.
Cox didn't blink. He clenched his jaw.
"There is something you want to ask that you think I might know, isn't there? Something personal, that perhaps only the Devil would know, or could find out?"
Elliot aggressively took notes.
He shook his head with a flat, grim smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Not today, Beelzebub. I need a lot of drinks in me before I do that."
Lucifer grinned at the girls. "Another complicated one. Excellent." To Cox, "I hope you change your mind. So, drinks?"
Elliot's brain locked. "Hang on, let me check my list of things I want to cover...your therapist- Okay, just a couple quick things-"
"Shoot."
"Er, would you be willing to do a urine test just to confirm you aren't currently taking any antipsychotic or similar drugs? I'll keep it discrete."
"The alcohol content might be a little high, but I don't see why not."
"Any plant, animal, food or drug allergies?"
"None."
"Drug interactions?"
"Oh, well this one time, I took three Ecstasy hits, a few magic mushrooms, and-"
She cut him off. "Not those kind, Satan."
"Oh, then no."
"Vitamin or other Supplements?"
"Nope."
"Any special routines that Satan goes through? Horn waxing, etc?"
"Oh, Jordan does that."
" !"
"Sorry, too easy. Had to."
Lucifer huffed. "Do you see any horns? Honestly, half an hour at the bathroom mirror usually does it. Check my email." He shrugged. "Once a week I look over the books at Lux, visit Dr. Martin. Have dry cleaning sent out and picked up."
Elliot chewed her pen. "So, nothing super 'Lucifery'?"
"Oh, well, recently I've killed the same person several times, but they won't stay dead."
"..."
"It's all right, he's trying to die."
Cox grunted. "Sounds like Newbie's first few days."
Lucifer finished off his flask. "So, are we good?"
Elliot thumbed her pages. "I think I have enough to start. Sure, go. I have more work to do. Molly?"
"I think I'll join them. I want to see how this goes. For research purposes."
Dr. Cox patted Lucifer. "First round is on me. Anyone who can fend off Newbie just be being around gets invited back anytime they want. Can't imagine why you come back willingly, mind you, but there it is. Hey, you want to go mess with Laverne on the way out? I haven't actually seen her head explode, but you, my friend, just might do it."