Lucifer and Meg – Meet-Cute (Lucifer, Balthazar, Meg and Jimmy)
"Unhand the lovely maiden, thou ignoble lout."
Tommy Brady turned around and glared at the intruder. A boy, younger and smaller than him, stood smiling, completely relaxed, leaning against the brick wall of the alley. He was wearing a white low neck tee, black pants and a black suit over it, a thin silver chain around his neck. "What?" he asked irritatedly. "Speak English."
The intruder sighed, bored. "Get the fuck away from the girl, you motherfucking sonofabitch," he replied casually. "That English enough for you? Or do you want me to explain again?"
"Who the fuck are you?" Tommy snarled, pulling out his pocket knife. If some piss fancy bastard thought he was just gonna waltz in here and stop him from taking what was rightfully his, he had another thing coming.
The man walked closer, obviously unconcerned about the knife. He stopped just short of Tommy's arm length, shifted his weight on one hip and extended his hand. "Balthazar Roche—"
Tommy took off running before he could even complete the sentence. The man had a gun and Tommy Brady didn't fuck with no guns.
Balthazar sighed and turned to the girl lying on the ground. "You a'right, miss?" he asked.
Meg looked at the receding figure with fearful eyes and hoped Tommy wouldn't come back with cavalry. She gulped nervously and nodded, "Yes."
Balthazar heaved another tired sigh and pulled the girl to her feet. She wasn't alright. Her face was swollen, her right eye was just starting to turn purple and her lip was cut. Even her top was torn, and he could see the bloody scratches under it. "C'mon," he said turning around and walking towards his car.
She sighed and adjusted her clothes, putting on her best business smile. "Yeah," she said walking towards the car and sliding in the passenger seat. "Here I am baby," she said seductively as she could, her swollen mouth muffling the words, and trailed a finger over his arm. What a vision I must be looking, she thought, face swollen, black eye, puffed lip. A real beauty. "Do you want me to take you to heaven and back?" she continued as her hand moved to his crotch.
Balthazar sighed and pushed her hand away. He removed a wad of money from his pocket and shoved it towards her. "For the night," he stated carelessly. "Now shut up and let me drive." He started the engine, muttering something about chivalry being dead, and shifted into gear.
Meg stared at the cash in her hand. The man had said for the night, but it was almost three times the regular rate. And he didn't seem so naïve as to not know that. She shifted nervously in her seat and shut her mouth. She hoped he wasn't one of those guys that beat women up before fucking them – he certainly looked the type – because she was hurting all over. But then, she decided what the hell. She was already hurting, for this much cash she wouldn't mind getting beaten up a little more. It wouldn't be the worst that had happened to her. Besides it would get Tommy off her back for a few days.
"A penny for your thoughts," Balthazar asked, turning towards the girl.
Meg shook out of her stupor and looked at the man beside her. Even in the darkened cab, she could see that he was about the same age as her. He looked like he came from a well-bred family, his clothes, his demeanour, everything about him screamed rich and well-bred. She wondered if he was from the other side of the tracks. "Uh… no," she replied quickly. "I mean... nothing. Where are we going?" she asked, seeing that they had left the city behind.
"Home," the guy replied, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world. "What's your name?"
"Meg," she said. The man smiled. "Balthazar," he replied. "I'm Balthazar."
From the way he said it, Meg couldn't help but notice that he sounded pleased. Almost as if he was proud of his name. She shrugged to herself. She had met quite a few men who were proud of their big names and high-class upbringing. Of course, they were the ones who were most savage when it came to being alone with a helpless person, especially the one they were paying to fuck. But then most people didn't give their real names to hookers, and who names their kid Balthazar. Either way, she didn't care. It was just one night.
Balthazar stopped the car in front of a house. It was dark except for the light in the two upper rooms. Balthazar took one look at the place and…
"Oh shit…shit…shit… shit!" he muttered looking at his watch. "What day is it?" he asked, his voice distressed.
"Friday," she replied. Normally she wouldn't know, but Tommy usually came to collect on Fridays.
"Fuck!" the guy muttered, whipping out his cell phone. Apparently the number was on speed dial because he just pressed one button. Meg could hear a phone ringing inside the house. "It's me," Balthazar whispered when the ringing finally stopped. "I got company."
Meg watched as a shirtless guy leaned out a window and waved at them. Balthazar waved back and got out of the car. Minutes later, the lights flooded the house and the main door opened as a blonde man – they looked similar enough to be brothers – stepped out the door, walked directly to Balthazar, met his gaze and walked away. Balthazar followed the man away from the house and they started fighting.
At least it seemed like fighting because, although they were whispering, there was a lot of hand waving and gesturing. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand why they were whispering. Apart from her no one was around to hear them, and most people didn't really care what hookers heard or didn't hear. She stepped out of the car and lit a cigarette. Well, what was it to her. Let them fight. She didn't care what they did as long as she got paid.
Then she saw a shock of dark hair in the second upper window. Few seconds later, a young boy, barely a teen, was standing in the doorway. The boy took one look at her, and the fighting duo, and walked outside. He glanced at her in the passing, a quick scrutinizing look, then proceeded towards the men. He stopped a little short of them, and listened silently until Balthazar gestured to him, and blondie turned around and shrugged sheepishly. The boy nodded and walked towards her.
"C'mon," he said, passing her. She burnt her cigarette on the side of the car, and followed the boy inside.
The first thing Meg noticed, were the drawings. All the walls seemed to be covered with them - there were water colours, ink and pencil sketches of everyday objects, and even a cityscape that looked like someone had scratched it into the sheet with a needle. But the one that stood out the most was a large pencil sketch of blondie and the kid cuddling under a tree. The kid looked asleep and blondie had a look of absolute bliss on his face.
"Make yourself at home," the boy ordered, gesturing to a depleted sofa in the living room, and disappeared upstairs.
Meg removed her clothes and sat down. Some people liked to undress her, others preferred to just get on with it. She hoped those two assholes weren't going to make the kid watch.
Just then blondie walked in, Balthazar immediately behind him. The man took one look at her and stopped in his tracks. "What the FUCK!?" he whispered as loudly he could, glancing furtively at the stairs, and hurriedly moved towards her, as if to block her from the view. Balthazar, in some silent communication, had already went to stand at the base of the stairs.
"The kid told me to make myself at home," she replied, confused. That was the usual polite expression for "take your clothes off and get ready to fuck".
Blondie smiled – he had a really lovely smile, she observed – and shook his head. "Wear your clothes," he said turning his back to her. "Leave the top off, wear the bra."
"No bra," she replied, slipping on her panties and skirt, suddenly feeling very foolish. The man wordlessly removed his dirty wifebeater – it was old, hole-y, and smelt of sweat and grease – and handed it to her. She pulled it down her body, just as the kid walked in carrying a large plastic box and the men left them alone.
The box had "First Aid Kit" written on it in red block letters, below a large plus sign. The kid gestured her to sit on the sofa, sitting himself on the table in front of her. He opened the box and pulled out a wad of cotton and bottle of iodine. Meg could see it held small bottles of over-the-counter pills, a bottle of cough syrup, a few disposable syringes, bunch of cheap bandages, sticking plaster, antiseptic ointments... almost everything she had seen at the clinic.
She flinched as the antiseptic stung her cut lip.
"Calm down," the kid said, gently prodding the cut. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
She almost laughed. The kid was assuring her. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Jimmy," he replied, raising his eyes to hers and smiling.
Meg was taken aback. He had the bluest blue eyes she had ever seen. So pure and honest… and innocent. Too bad it wouldn't last long. For a second, she wondered if she could take the kid and run. They could start a new life somewhere and she would do anything to protect his innocence. She had been sold into the trade when she was 10 and she still wondered if she could have turned out different. Then she laughed at the ridiculousness of her thoughts, and settled for introducing herself. "I'm Meg," she said kindly.
The boy nodded and finished cleaning her up, before dabbing antiseptic ointment to her scratches. She flinched as he touched her eye. "Don't worry," he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's not a permanent damage. The capillaries in the skin burst when you apply excess pressure to them. It takes a day or two to recover. You'll be back to normal in… How long are you staying?" he asked suddenly, his brow creasing in a very grown-up gesture.
Meg started. Apparently, the kid had no idea how the streets worked. "The night," she replied. "That Balthazar guy paid me for the night." She refrained from adding "three times the amount".
The boy nodded, putting away his stuff and handing her a couple of pills. "Pain killers," he said, when she looked skeptically at him. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing." Meg gulped the pills down, wondering if he'd done this before. "When was last time you ate?" he asked, tilting his head back and subjecting her to the same scrutinizing look as before.
"Two days before I was sold," she wanted to snap, but the kid sounded sincere. "Yesterday," she replied, even though she couldn't really remember. Tommy had taken most of her earnings and the remaining had gone towards her meds.
The kid smirked, as if he knew she was lying, and went inside, leaving her alone.
She wondered if these people were genuinely trusting or just plain stupid. Did they always take in random strangers? What if she was a thief... Or a murderer who would kill them in their sleep? Somehow, she didn't think it was possible to one-up Balthazar or the sexy blonde… since when did he become the sexy blondie?
She stood up, wondering how much more weird the night was gonna get.
-x-x-x-
Jimmy placed his first aid box on the side counter and walked into the kitchen. Nicky and Bart were sitting at dining table and Bart had carelessly discarded his wallet, phone, keys and a gun, the one he tucked in his waistband, on the table. He knew there was also was an ankle piece, another one in his shoulder holster and his trusty knife strapped to the inside of his right arm… all of which he wasn't supposed to know about.
He ignored them and moved towards the fridge, taking out eggs and a carton of milk. He placed the ingredients on the counter and pulled out a mixing bowl and shallow pan.
"You done playing nursemaid yet?" Lucifer asked him.
"She looks hungry," he replied, concentrating on cracking the eggs open. He whisked the eggs and carefully added a little milk to smooth the mixture. "Where's the salt?"
Lucifer stood up and quietly handed him salt and pepper, and settled back in his chair.
"She said you paid her for the night," Jimmy quietly observed, still not looking up.
"I'm not planning to fuck her," Balthazar protested. "If that's what you think."
This time Jimmy did look up. "Didn't think so," he replied. "But she needs to stay a couple more days. Her face took quite a beating."
"Jimmy, we talked about this," Lucifer said, his voice gentle but firm.
Jimmy nodded, quietly. When Nicky used that tone, it was better to not fight him. He knew why Nicky didn't like having streetwalkers around for more than a night. They inevitably had to go back, and more kindness you showed, the worse it hurt when the time came to go. "Okay. What about the guy who did this to her?" he asked instead.
Balthazar shrugged. "Ran away," he replied nonchalantly. "I don't thin- You want something, miss?" he suddenly asked, looking over Lucifer's shoulder.
Lucifer turned around to see the girl standing in the doorway, looking lost.
"Uh… yeah," Meg replied, her eyes flicking from blondie – he had found himself a tee, even older and dirtier than his earlier one – to the gun on the table. This Balthazar guy was probably a bigger deal than she thought. "Can I get something to drink?"
Balthazar, the closest to fridge, stood up and pulled out a beer. "Alcohol and pain meds…" the kid started, before Balthazar replaced it and pulled out a coke. "Here," he said handing it to her. "Hey! I'm hungry too," he turned to the kid emptying the eggs on a plate.
The kid didn't say anything, just turned around to pull out another plate. Meg felt a pang of regret. Poor kid, she thought. These two meatheads treating him like their servant.
The kid set the plate in front of blondie, who immediately vacated the seat and came to stand beside her, gesturing her to take his place. She looked at him, confused, and noticed he had blue eyes to rival the kid's. She silently sat down and took the spoon Balthazar offered. He had helpfully shoved the gun to one side of the table, but made no move to take it away.
"How are the eggs?" blondie asked from behind her.
"Good," she replied, her mouth still full, and saw the kid smile. "These are really good," she said once again for the kid's benefit.
The kid nodded. "You like toast?" he asked.
Before she could say anything, Balthazar met her gaze and mouthed 'yes'. Meg blinked as the sudden realization hit her. They weren't making the kid do anything. They were indulging him. "Yes," she said out loud.
The kid smiled, ever so slightly, and pulled out a loaf of bread, before turning back to her. "The guy who beat you up," he asked casually, his gaze meeting blondie's over her shoulder, "You know him?"
Meg sought Balthazar's eyes, but he too was looking at blondie. She turned around to look him. He was casually leaning against the doorframe, but he had eyes only for the kid. She hoped the kid wasn't going to get into trouble. Then blondie let out a defeated sigh.
"Your pimp or a freeloader?" he asked, still holding the kid's gaze.
"Uh… pimp," she replied softly and his eyes flicked over to her. "Tommy," she added, when it seemed like they were waiting for her to elaborate. "Tommy Brady."
Suddenly the hell broke loose. Blondie clammed shut, but it was the kid's reaction that startled her the most. "She's not going back," the kid stated matter-of-factly, the bread forgotten. Meg turned around to look at the kid, he looked angry… very angry.
"Jimmy…" blondie started, but stopped himself when the kid's eyes turned darker.
"She's. Not. Going. Back," the kid said defiantly.
"Well, she's not staying," blondie stated calmly, but his calmness seemed forced.
"Fine," the kid spat. "Then I'm not staying either," he said, setting face his face into a blank expression and walking out the kitchen. "C'mon, Meg," he said over his shoulder, stalking upstairs.
Meg looked apologetically at blondie, and was half out of her chair, when Balthazar reached out a hand to pull her back, his eyes meeting blondie's who just stared back, then turned around and followed the kid.
"Don't bother," Balthazar said turning back to his plate and motioning her to do the same. "It happens more frequently than you'd realize. Jimmy doesn't like sending them back. Luci doesn't want them around him. But I've never seen them like this before."
Luci? She knew this name. Where had she heard it before? Meg raked through her brain. Luci… Lucius… Lucien… Lucifer… Lucifer. Lucifer Novak! Holy Mother of Fuck! Shit! Shit…shit…shit…shit! Fuck! Blondie was Lucifer Novak. Holy crap! What was she gonna do? They would surely kill her and hang her guts at the town limits. She wondered if she could make a run for it, but they knew her face, and no one would help her now that she'd crossed paths with El Diablo himself.
"Hey, you a'right, miss?" Balthazar asked, seeing the way the girl suddenly started hyperventilating.
Meg looked at him strangely. Is he for real? she thought. She was sitting in Lucifer Novak's kitchen... eating his food... wearing his fucking shirt! How could she be alright? She gulped, suddenly scared. "You… you're not gonna kill me, are you? I promise I'll never tell anyone I met you guys."
Balthazar laughed, genuinely amused, and finished his food. "Did we give any indication we were planning to kill you? If we wanted you dead, you'd already be…" he crossed a finger across his throat in a slitting gesture, making a "nch" sound.
"Then… why…?" she sputtered.
"I usually get people like you here to sleep off drugs or beatings," he replied nonchalantly.
That piqued her interest. "Why?" she asked a little bravely, seeing that they weren't planning to kill her and dump her body somewhere. Not that anyone would care even if they did.
Balthazar shrugged. "I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone," he quoted.
"What?" Meg asked confused. Did he always talk weird?
"I know what it is like to be out there," he translated. "I walked the streets. Wanted out. Luci helped me get my shit together. I even got a GED last year," he added proudly.
She distinctly noticed the sound coming from upstairs. The kid was crying loudly, and Lucifer Novak sounded like he was singing something to him. Then a sudden sickening thought hit her. The way the kid had reacted to Tommy's name. "You mean the kid too…"
"Oh no," Balthazar cut in. "That's his younger brother. He goes to school n shit. Doesn't even stay here. He's got a foster family in the city. Comes over on weekends."
"Oh," Meg murmured. Then she remembered something else. She shifted her chair close to him and lowered her voice, lest Lucifer would hear. "If I wanted out, would you help me?" she asked quietly.
Balthazar looked at her. "You want out?" he asked. Most hookers he knew didn't know what they wanted, some had resigned themselves to this fate, still others preferred to spiral down the maze of drugs and booze. There were very few like him who genuinely wanted out.
Meg shrugged. "Ain't doing this coz of the perks, sweetheart," she replied, keeping her voice as casual as she could. She didn't want to get her hopes up, in case it didn't work out. But she was burning inside. She had finally found a way out, and she didn't want to go back. "So can you help me or what?"
Balthazar sneaked a glance over her shoulder. Luci was still upstairs. "I don't usually do this, because sooner or later, the life beckons them again. It's really hard to maintain your composure in face of all things that we do. There's always drugs and booze and shit… and Luci is very particular about what kind of people he lets around the kid."
"What about you then?" she asked, gazing distastefully at the gun. Some hypocrite he was.
"I'm clean," he replied proudly. "Have been for years. Luci makes sure of it. He needs someone to keep an eye on the kid when he's not around. The money he pays me goes towards my college fund."
"You wanna go to college?" she asked incredulously. This could make him the first friend, if he was a friend, she had who was so damn smart. For a minute she felt proud of herself.
"Yeah," he nodded. "There's the community college in the city that has an arts course. I like drawing… I'm thinking about taking it professionally."
"Those paintings out there," she waved her hands in general direction of living room, "you did them?"
"Yeah," he replied shyly. "Luci says it's my own private gallery."
This Luci sure is something, Meg thought. Please God… please let him allow me to stay… please… please…
As if the God had heard her prayers, because sometimes God shows mercy even on the heathens, the object of her thoughts came down the stairs, into the kitchen and plopped down on the seat next to her.
"I'm sorry for that," he murmured, sounding more tired and defeated than Balthazar had ever known him. "He's usually well-behaved," he added, almost apologetically. Balthazar started. Lucifer never apologized. That's what made him Lucifer Novak, his ability to not give a fuck about anything or anyone. "Look," Lucifer continued. "Jimmy's quite taken to you. So stay the weekend. I'll pay you twice… Hell, three times. Take the money and go someplace far away where he won't be able to see you anymore. Please…" he almost sounded broken.
Balthazar placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder and he almost jumped. "Bart…," he whispered, so lost that Balthazar didn't know what to do. The last time Luci had called him "Bart" he was dying, and Lucifer was still Nicky. Everything had changed after that. "Nicky," Balthazar said, moving in to hug him.
Balthazar's Luci would've pulled away, or punched him, or made a snappy retort but Bart's Nicky just sagged against him, holding him tight. Everything may have changed, but some things would never do. "I don't know what to do anymore, Bart..." he whispered. "It's like we don't even see each other anymore…"
"Hey! It's not true!" Balthazar snapped gently. "Jimmy loves you. He knows how much he means to you… and I know how much you mean to him. You can't carry the world on your shoulders… and he shouldn't expect you to. I'll go talk to him," he said pulling back and standing up.
"No… don't," Lucifer replied, pulling on his arm. "It's not about that… it's about…" he glanced at the girl still sitting at table, looking intently at the goings-on in front of her. "You got something to say, sweetheart?" he snapped, angrily.
Meg raised her hands defensively. "I don't want any more money," she said standing up. "He's already paid me for 3 nights. And you won't ever see me again," she added, her voice holding a promise. She turned around and walked briskly out of the kitchen.
"Wait. Come here," Balthazar called behind her. "Tell him what you told me."
Meg swallowed nervously. She been stripping for almost 9 years, but she had never felt more naked, more vulnerable until this minute. This time, it wasn't her clothes that were taken from her… it felt as if someone had taken a knife stripped the meat away from her bones. Her very soul lay open… helpless… for this man they called The Devil to torment... to do as he pleased with it.
But she knew that if she walked away, she would never recover from this night… never let go of what she was shown she could've had… never forget the golden hearted man, hidden beneath the dangerous El Diablo, she had come to respect.
She walked back into the room and fell down on her knees before Lucifer. "Please…" she whispered. "Please don't make me go back… please… I can't… Not now… Please don't cast me out…" she begged. "I'll do anything…"
"Anything?" Lucifer asked, his lips curling into beginnings of a smile.
Anything, Meg gulped. For this chance, she would do anything. She had always traded a lot more for a lot less… And what was the worse he could do that she hadn't already been through. "Anything," she stated resolutely, making up her mind. It would be just like any other job… only this one would have better perks.
Lucifer leaned forward till they were at eye level. "Anything?" he asked again, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing, his lips curved into a full blown smile that made him look 10 years younger, not more than a couple of years older than her, his sexy blue eyes sparkling with mirth.
Meg found herself smiling back. He wasn't making the decision for her. He was asking her… actually asking her… as if her answer mattered to him. As if she mattered. She leaned forward till their noses touched. "Anything," she replied coyly, as Lucifer's hand curled into her hair and pulled her closer till their lips met. Meg closed her eyes, as Lucifer's tongue entered her mouth and took everything away from her. No one had ever made her feel this way before. Like she was a person… a very special person…
Behind them Balthazar grumbled something about Finders Keepers and the Bro-Code, before vanishing upstairs, a smile on his face. Luci deserved to be happy.
Lucifer released her and grinned happily. "You wanna have dinner with me next week?" he asked.
Meg lowered her eyes shyly. She'd heard about this… in the stories her mother had told her… in the stories she had told herself when it got too rough… a girl and a prince who rescued her from the life of hell. It didn't matter that the girl was an ex-hooker or the prince was a gangster they called The Devil. It still was a fairy tale. Her fairy tale.
"Yes," she breathed, leaning in for another kiss.
Two days later, another sketch – Meg with a bruised, swollen face looking reverently at happily grinning Lucifer – appeared on the wall, at the foot of the stairs.
