Lucifer leaned casually against the kitchenette counter in new designer jeans that were one shade of blue above black with a lilac button-up that would look out of place on most other men. Maze made good on procuring suitable product, enabling him to help himself to a proper morning routine.

The view outside the hotel window was familiar in the pre-dawn light, but nothing else was.

A few hours of sleep and clean clothes were just what he needed to reset and be a functional Devil again. If they weren't home before tonight, he feared they'd all be staying in one of the fleabag motels Sam mentioned in passing. He decided then to stuff a robe in the bag Maze got them.

These Winchesters were going to be the death of him, but at least they seemed to know what they were on about. He finally nicked the journal after they'd gone to sleep to peek at a few pages - it was well researched. It seemed there really were any number of actual, bloody monsters that roamed about the countryside here. Something to keep in mind.

If there was even a smidge of truth to the journal on how busy they'd been over the last few years, they did quite a bit of good work in their adventures, all with little to no reward and rarely even a 'thank you'. If the state of their living arrangements were any indication, 'hunting' was a job that did not pay out dividends of any kind. Yet the Winchesters seemed driven to do it. Lucifer made a reassessment of their caustic exteriors.

If any one of his demons went off on a topside-based killing spree, he would be forced to destroy it. He liked their Lucifer less and less.

The smell of high-quality medium-roast drip coffee drew a slightly scruffy-looking Dean out of the bedroom he and his brother shared. He threw a flat 'mornin, Satan' at Lucifer and poured himself a cup of coffee. The paper bill that had been slipped under the door caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. There were four figures in the total.

"Jesus Christ. This is normal for you?" Being the King of Hell came with a lot more perks than Dean would have guessed.

The Devil smirked, sipping black coffee from his own mug. "I assure you, Yeshua has nothing to do with it. He was quite serious about living in poverty. I keep bottles of wine in stock that cost more than-" he pointed at the bill, "that."

Dean grumbled. "It's too early for this shit." Putting lips to coffee cup, he brightened. "Hey, this is good." He took a long pull, closing his eyes in near-bliss, cupping the mug in both hands like a lover. "Damn."

Lucifer nodded, pleased Dean let down his guard enough to possibly have a sociable morning. "You're welcome. There's no espresso machine, but this will do."

Cas stretched out on the couch, still in the trench coat. He looked like he was meditating rather than sleeping.

"Does he ever take off the coat?"

"Not that I've seen, no."

"How long have you and Cas been a thing?"

Dean did a spit-take. "Dude, you really need to work on your timing."

"What? You've put so many limits on me; I need to get my entertainment somewhere while we're here. Obviously, I meant 'how long have you two been stuck with him'? Get him a properly sized trench coat, and it'd improve his probability of getting laid immensely."

"Yeah, I don't think he's here for that. Cas has been crawling up our asses since the seals have been breaking. Sometimes he's around, and sometimes he isn't. He hasn't exactly been endearing himself to us."

Cas sat up on the couch, hair somehow still in place. "I have not had anything to do with your asses."

Dean drained his mug with a happy sigh. "He's also incredibly literal. We've been chewing aspirin like candy since he found us."

Cas slipped straight to business. "Dean, have you tried inflicting pain on him yet?"

Lucifer waggled his eyebrows.

His icy blue look of annoyance transformed into something lighter, a wicked amusement. Dean nodded. "Sam said you had a reaction to him. So I get to test the theory too?"

Lucifer spread his arms wide. "Feel free to give it a shot."

Dean made a valiant attempt to slap the smirk off Lucifer's face. He was unsuccessful. He didn't even leave a mark behind.

"Nope. No 'ow.' I guess it's just Sammy." The Devil offered a mug. "Coffee, Sam? Cas?"

Maze appeared in a flash, a non-demon dagger in hand when she heard the slap. She had her hair up in a bun and a damp bath towel on, barely.

"Morning, Maze. We're fine."

Sam glared from the doorway, dressed and awake, but leaving space. "It must be the demon blood."

Maze and Lucifer both looked at him. She adjusted her towel.

Dean wrenched his gaze from the demon and shot his brother a warning scowl. "Sam."

He shrugged uncomfortably. "You're looking for an answer. It's as good as anything else."

Lucifer cocked his head. "I would have known if you were part-infernal." Hell-touched certainly, but not demonic. Perhaps his earlier estimate of an untapped power was incorrect, and Sam had been developing it.

"I...consumed demon blood. It gives me the power to force demons out of people with will alone."

Maze crossed her arms, looking more interested than disgusted. "That sounded an awful lot like present tense."

"It's a powerful offensive weapon." He seemed reluctant to say more about it, biting the inside of his cheek.

Dean swallowed, looking darkly at Lucifer. "And, it means we can defend ourselves against you."

"I have no interest in harming you. I hope you can get that through your thick skulls." Lucifer growled. "And you're allowing your brother to contaminate himself? Amenadiel goes on at length about not mixing the divine and humans. I don't always agree with him, but in this case, he's right. It's a bad idea. Castiel, I'm disappointed in you."

Dean held back his surprise at the Devil chastising Cas over it but cut the angel off before he could say anything. "It makes the war we have to fight a little easier. We don't want to take down...Lucifer, but we will if we have to, even if it means our lives."

He responded with a manicured, arched eyebrow. "You're a pair of optimists, aren't you?"

"We don't have a choice in the matter." Dean's stony face challenged him to question the statement.

It struck Lucifer in the gut like a ball of ice. It sounded a lot like his railings against his father. The tension coiled around them like snakes. "You have free will. You have a choice-"

"Like hell we do. Sure, we could quit, but the price of 'free will' is consequence. We stop and more people we care about die. We keep going and less of them do."

Dean breathed out in a huff, then got more coffee, trying to settle his bitterness at the universe. He eyed Lucifer, sensing a point to be made. "Besides, what else would we do if we got out of the business of hunting monsters on a shoestring and prayers? Retire?"

The Devil nodded. Point taken. "My father really is a right bastard here too, isn't He?"

"Never met the guy. You got one up on us there."

Lucifer decided it didn't merit a response. He started a new pot of coffee and went scavenging for disposable travel cups.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. At some point, Maze re-appeared in street clothes, tossing their new bag on the couch next to Cas, making a beeline for the coffee machine. "Gimme."

Dean gestured Sam closer, "Hey, does this 'turn Lucifer into a pincushion' thing have a 'range'? Like with your girlfriend?"

"The Devil doesn't have a girlfriend. We haven't tested the range for Sam yet."

"I'm up for trying to smack you around some more. Sam?"

Sam stepped within a few feet of the pair. "Try again?"

Lucifer obligingly held out a hand, palm down, to Dean. "Avoid the hair this time?"

"Why, are you nervous now?" Dean slapped Lucifer's hand instead of his face. It stung his own but earned a gratifying wince from Lucifer, who looked displeased. As did Maze.

He rubbed his hand. "Right, shorter bubble than the Detective. Do me a solid and try not to let me get shot around Sammy. I don't know which Hell I'll end up in."

"Stop calling me Sammy."

Cas cleared his throat. "Two Lucifers in Hell at the same time would be just as catastrophic as them both being on earth at the same time. We'd likely draw an additional Michael, or worse."

Sam glowered. "Fine, I'll do my best to stay away from you." He got his coffee and moved off to the table to pack up the laptop. "We should get moving. Cas, can you go with them? I still don't want everyone packed into Baby. Get a cab or something, would you?"

Lucifer held up a finger. "Not to worry, I'll find us suitable transportation."

"Fine." Sam sipped his hot drink. Then went a little cross-eyed with a small moan. "Holy crap, dude. This is hotel coffee?"

Dawn hadn't broken quite yet, but the sky got a little lighter in the time it took to make the drive.

Sam and Dean, minus Cas, loitered in the visitor's parking deck for the LAPD, leaning against Baby. They weren't fond of walking into police stations, but the likelihood of their posters showing up out here was at least fairly low.

They finally had a moment alone again. Dean sipped his Devil coffee, not entirely convinced he hadn't done 'something' to it to make it better. He dialed Bobby. It went to voicemail. "Hey. We have good news and bad news. The bad news is, I guess, that your lead was right. We found-" He glanced at Sam. "Both a demon and something else out here. Cas caught up with us, and we're working on sending the-it back, but it's not as simple as your run of the mill exorcism. I'd rather not leave everything on your answering machine, but it's...under control. For the moment. Uhm. We might need you to pull out any books on Satan that we've discarded before because they seemed out of character. Like, any material you might have on why he might appear...friendly. Uhm. Okay, thanks, Bobby."

Sam smirked. "Bobby's head is going to explode."

"When isn't Bobby's head exploding? God knows how he hasn't died of a stroke by now."

"As long as we're in a bigger city, maybe I should swing by one of the local libraries. Any place here is bound to have more reference options."

"Let's find out what Bobby comes up with first, okay? I don't trust this place. Too sunny."

A low, smooth rumble echoed through the parking lot. Someone in a dusky emerald green convertible with classic lines had turned in. Dean recognized the deep-throated purr as something most likely obnoxiously American, not that he had a problem with that. He watched in appreciation for the ten seconds before he realized they were headed across the mostly empty lot towards him and Sam. The driver had black hair and a toothy smile. The demon rode shotgun. Oh no.

Lucifer parked with a huge grin. Maze waved.

Dean and Sam both stared. Dean walked around it. "Where the hell did you get a '68 Shelby GT Mustang?"

"Like her? So did I. She practically screamed my name. Can't help the color, but the style is lovely, wouldn't you say?"

"Cas, did you let him steal this thing?"

Castiel blinked. "Is theft a problem now?"

"Come now; no harm has come to her. Should the original owner find her before our business is done here, I'll simply find another ride."

The car shut down, with no keys. Getting out, he reached into the back seat for a stack of donut boxes and box of coffee on top. "Cousin, be a darling and carry these?"

Maze exited, hauling their duffel bag and Lucifer's dry-cleaned suit and bag out of the trunk and looking at Dean expectantly. "You mind?"

"In case your stolen car gets re-stolen? Sure." He threw it in the trunk of the Impala.

Lucifer confidently strode ahead, leading the strange group inside.