Chapter 12: Slope

A/N: This one's got a note midway. It'll make sense after ;-)

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Lucifer was shocked. Could absolutely not believe his eyes.

"That is…literally appalling. Complete and utter desecration of….just…feh." The shudder accompanied by the Shar-Pei'd forehead, deep furrows of disgust running from the outside of his nose and the lemon-sucking twist of his mouth nearly made Canaan laugh aloud. But at least one of them should show some restraint. She settled for a grin and shake of her head.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Foul bastardization of a concept; I mean...honestly! No couth."

"No, a grilled cheese. And a really good one, too. Smoked gouda and tomato on challah."

"You said 'let's go for dessert'. That is not dessert. This is dessert." Using his fork to point at a decadently lavish piece of chocolate layer cake in front of himself. "And I'm not sharing when you've realized what havoc you've wrought upon your end of the counter." Now the fork was fluttering in the direction of her plate; a flatware exorcism.

"Thank goodness you never overreact, or anything."

"Indeed." His forehead smoothed out with the first bite of his treat, eyes drifting toward the ceiling in bliss. Expressive face aghast once more as Canaan happily accepted tongs and an offer from the small crock the shriveled owner brought down to her with a smile. He enjoyed watching these two interact as much as his wife did. They'd been in together a few times over the summer - always at an off peak time of day, like now. It was nearly midnight, but Lucifer was, and always had been welcome whenever he pleased.

"Beastly. Keep that vile stench to yourself."

"Don't like pickles, either, hm?"

"On the contrary, I enjoy a salty snap." Wincing a little as small white teeth adroitly lopped off the tip of the dill in her fingers. "Just not for…oh I don't know…dessert?!"

Ignoring the nattering petulance catty-corner to where she sat at the end of the counter, Canaan concentrated on the first hot (and decent) food she'd had in nearly sixteen hours. Reveling in the taste (and wondering if she could get another one) she realized Lucifer was looking at her expectantly. Mouth full, she could only stare back as she let her eyebrows do the talking and let a mangled "Hmm?" escape her.

"Honestly. Like feeding time at the zoo down here. How do they expect you lot to carry on as you do?"

She shrugged, chewing. She figured, as most of the trauma staff did, that they were always doing better than the person on the table, so complaining seemed…wrongish. At least serious complaining. However sick humor was so omnipresent they all used to joke about getting it on the payroll. Sucking down half a glass of water to chase the hoovered sandwich she finally got clear enough to speak.

"Still trying to get Saul's replacement up to speed – she's weeks behind. So, longer shifts for a bit. Worth it to not have to deal with him, though the fact that he just flat-out vanished is quite weird. Not a blip since you bonked him back in July and Labor Day is around the corner."

"I'd not waste one more thought on that cretin. Truly. Long gone, I'm certain." He was. Quite certain, in fact. Changing tone abruptly to cheerful excitement, "Besides, that's wasn't my original question…not that you could hear over the rapid mastication…"

"Sorry, what did you ask me?"

"I asked if you were ready for next weekend?"

Canaan's blank look horrified him until he saw the twinkle hiding in her eye. This was only the second time she'd briefly seen Lucifer since her minor meltdown some time back, and had been quite happy that he'd not brought it up. His texts and emails had been full of his grand plans for a 'full-on proper party' to benefit the hospital and kick off the second stage of proposed projects. Two had been approved and there were four more (one was hers, not that he knew this) in contention for the last two spots due to roll out in the next few months. This event was supposed to fill the coffers a bit, and as he kept saying, "Just to have a little fun and play for once." Apparently he'd had previous professional experience with nightlife on the West Coast – at least she'd heard; he hadn't mentioned much himself, only that 'he knew what he was doing, thanks much'. As a member of the committee she was supposed to go…as he felt the need to incessantly remind her.

"I am. Be running a bit late though." She put up a hand up to quell the irritated shock firing his eyebrows. "Lucifer. Just late, okay? Bohner has seniority, and made quite sure my team was one of the ones on for next Friday. He's a decrepit ass, so that wasn't really a surprise. Anyway, we'll be off by 11P and this place you picked is only a few blocks away. How'd you even get a venue spot with only a few weeks' notice? It's supposed to be one of the most exclusive buildings here."

It belonged to him, was how.

"I know the owner."

"Good thing for you, huh? I hear it's beautiful."

"Well, you'll get a chance to see it yourself, late as you may be. Hope you've got a better outfit than this scruffy get-up." Flipping a hand dismissively at her.

"Sorry, I didn't realize post-work yoga pants and a light sweater were taboo for midnight snack runs. And yes, I'm throwing something together."

"You are?" Surprise. A little fear on his face.

"Don't look so shocked. Learned to sew early on being short; I got sick of constantly back-and-forthing and paying for alterations. And at least when I pattern material it doesn't flinch. I'll be presentable, I promise. At any rate, not everyone goes around like a fashion plate 24/7 as you do." Flipping a dismissive hand of her own right back at his light suit. Pressed to perfection, even on a midweek midnight. Unbelievable.

"Can't see why not. Not enough beauty and too much flaw in this world."

"Mm." She slid off her seat and walked up to the register to pay over his protests. "Stop whining, for the love of God…this was my idea. Just glad you could meet me. Or I was."

"I heard that."

"I hope so; I did say it out loud." Smiling apologies at the dual crinkly cheer from behind the counter as she riffled through her wallet. The pair was always together the few times she'd been in with him; it was nice to see. She'd asked Lucifer how he'd found their hidden spot – it seemed so…not his style. His rather absent reply was that he'd just been drawn to it while out for a walk. Came by rather often actually, when he'd thought about it more. It was a comforting, easy place for a quick, quiet nibble. The only thing other than appetite and a book he'd ever brought here was Canaan. He was glad she liked it too, even if her menu choices bordered on the preposterous. A warm smile graced his face as he heard a happy little din from the register: Canaan had found a small white bag being pressed into her hands, and he was fairly certain the other one on the countertop was for him. Cake, no doubt. This place had the best devil's food around.

[A/N: It may seem a bit incongruent to have two short stutters of script juxtaposed like this, led by the exact same starter but that's the same abruptness our characters are going to experience, so *flash forward to party*. The song later is 'Ghost of You' by the Psychedelic Furs. Significantly more suggestive, though not too explicit yet.]

Lucifer was shocked. Could absolutely not believe his eyes.

Taking her in.

The evening had been a boon so far; throngs of celebratory humans were gathered under the crystal lights of the gorgeous ballroom, and spilled out into the high-rise balconies beyond the four walls. Food, drink and merriness abounded. The musical codex embracing it all was his special treat to himself. A full-on orchestra and choral group inundated the room with auditory glissade on everything from classic to contemporary. The whole milieu lit him from the inside out. Lux had been a great deal of fun; at least initially. Some of the splendidness of glitz translated in what he saw here: dancing, singing, imbibing…sheer superfluous joy. He relished the energy he was being swept with.

Only two deficits.

Mazikeen. She'd remained balky regarding his projects despite his best efforts of late and he refused to let her absence cowl over his entertainment.

Canaan. She'd not arrived yet as she'd assured. And it was nearly the witching hour. He took promises seriously and was beginning to be annoyed.

He'd started sweeping the room just after eleven, but no new influx of people that he could discern. Near midnight now and nothing…wait…maybe? No. He gave the small group coming in the side entrance a cursory evaluation; no one looked like her.

Wait again…something tugged his glance back.

Two young men in smart suits with giggling women laced to their arms…they looked slightly familiar…just behind two more men, a little older and leaning in to one another as if sharing a joke – one laughing, the other clasping his hand. Another couple smiling just beside them, looking back. An older woman arm in arm with two dapper middle-aged men, simpering. A young girl with ombre blond hair, running to meet friends already present. They all seemed recognizable…the piano bar? Just behind them, a serious blond. Tall, with a shy affect walking close to another woman. This one more petite, dressed in a form-fitting copper silk shell with an exposed shoulder and transitioning to a short, multilayered flowy skirt under the extended bodice. Long hair, intricately braided into entwined tendrils woven together and falling in a single cable down her back. Dark makeup on her eyes, deep wine color on her lips. Canaan didn't wear that.

Did she?

The rest of the group filtered into the room as the smaller woman stayed near the door, leaning against the opening. Arms crossed, taking in the room. That body language he recognized.

Lucifer took a breath, two glasses from a hovering server and a walk across the crowded space. Watching her. Willing her not to move away. At the last moment he swept out of a side entrance through an annex to come behind where she stood.

"Feels a little déjà vu, yeah?"

Extending a glass to where the woman stood just in front and to the side of the doorway. She turned to his voice, smiling.

"Yes. Something like." Accepting the proffered glass. "At least this time you brought the drink instead of prodding me like livestock. Looks like an amazing turnout; fantastic - I'm so pleased for you." Smiling through a claret mouth. Looking at him through smoky hazel eyes stoked in smoldered lashes. Gloved in that snug confection that revealed graceful musculature on a small frame.

"What?" She peered at him quizzically over the rim of the goblet.

He just stared. Then waved an elegant hand in front of her as he took a long draught from his glass. Swallowing hard.

"Not…scruffy. Not by any means."

Canaan chuckled. "This image brought to you by Singer sewing and Blake. I'm afraid my girl may have been a little too...enthusiastic with the war paint. She was a little snarky about how tired I looked but hey, big difference from twenty-three to forty. I remember never needing to sleep at that age. You look divine as well." He did, of course. Dark suit, darker shirt. Deep silver tie. Perfect as always.

Lucifer just shook his head. He'd been interested this way since the first time he ever saw her, but now…now he knew her better. And the difference that made from that day to this…oh.

"What? Getting a complex here. I'm going to go back to the hospital for the dermabrader if I look really ridiculous." She ran a thumb under one eye, looking at it to see if she was raccooned in kohl. Nope. Apparently this was indelibly industrial stuff. Darn that Blake.

"No. Lovely." He wanted so badly to touch the smooth dress, feel the weight of the thick braiding…run fingers over the skin on her bare shoulder.

"Lucif-?" He had plucked the drink right out of her hand and wheeled to put both of their glasses on a side table. Grasping her hands to pull her back through the doorway over to the small annex connecting the larger side balconies, marveling at the way the skirt fluttered around her legs as she moved. The dark was lit from the glow of the city below and the huge sweeps of windows above. The wash of sound spilling from all the open doors and musical laughter everywhere joining to sing around them…just not too close by.

Wind and starlight above. One, a MorningStar below.

Canaan looked up at him in surprise as he spoke.

"Do you dance?"

Pause. Small furrow deepening on her brow.

Oh no, there'd be none of that. Soft words, but strong, broking no arguments.

"Well. You are tonight. Remember, I'll not have 'no' for an answer. Don't want a scene now, do we?"

His affect was different. The words were the easy teases she was accustomed to, but the manner was not. He was more solemn. Refined, even…and she was suddenly taken with just how truly beautiful he was. Canaan tried to rebalance herself, needing her friend back… not this debonair stranger looking right through her. At these newly sweeping thoughts she wanted hidden still. "Even in these heels we're a little…mismatched, you realize."

Lucifer felt he was a mismatch for everyone in everyplace he'd ever been. One more minor circumstance wasn't going to throw him. The narrow annex had scatters of stone planters surrounding small trees. Wide slate topped the circles…all various heights. He still had her hands in his, and simply turned to sweep her up on the closest. Releasing one to place it loosely on her waist and a gentle push to give her a spin under their joined ones.

That skirt could move.

So could she.

Hand back at her waist, not clutching…letting her get used to him this way. The music and vocals of the arrangements spilling from inside were light, but kept intact the whimsical melancholy of the old song playing.

"…but falling over you, is the news of the day."

"Mm. Certainly hope not. Haven't had shoes like this on in a while. Or done this, either…" Canaan's voice, unfamiliar near his ear, was as wistful as the music he was moving her through. Lucifer was silent; all sensory perception and kinetic rhythm.

"Angels fall like rain…And love - is all of heaven away…"

Yes they did. And yes it was. For a just a fleeting moment, he didn't miss it as much. Pulling her a little closer, bending his elbow and curling their hands into his shoulder. Pressing on her back as he spun them to a different planter. Canaan moving right with him, the easy lean of her body released as she found her feet again, sliding her legs with his.

"Inside you the time moves

and she don't fade…

The ghost in you…

She don't fade."

Maybe some ghosts might. They were both thinking about theirs. And this now. This oddly complex, peculiarly comfortable little relationship of isolation, affection, words, humor…pain: implied and overt. For both. And the characteristics might be different but the reason was the same. They were each still, and for the moment alone - but together in proximal wonder.

"Drums beat time in you and I

and rain don't fall down here no more

it's coming down to losing it in you."

Lucifer pulled her against him again, gently at first but then more firmly, strong hand splayed on her back. Canaan went up on her toes, expecting him to turn them to another planter, but he didn't. She could feel his breath on her bare shoulder, rise and fall of his chest against her, swaying her with him. The little smirk he seemed to have in ever-present residence was gone from the full mouth. Those penetrating eyes were half-lidded and gazed down in softened focus at where his fingers were beginning to run over the hair braided down her back. His other hand still held hers firmly, tucked in and curled with his arm over his lapel. She was slightly off-balance as she'd misjudged the dance, and the gentle twist of his body backwards to the music allowed her to slope right in against him.

Oh…

This was no awkwardly chaste hug, or even a comforting lean. She felt fire. He was all hard muscle and malleable tension and her body responded to the shock of it. Lucifer raised his head, surprised to feel her press and her hand slide down his back. Not as surprised as Canaan was, truly. The hungry glance in those dark eyes, devoid of their usual flippant spark, sent another trill to light her up. He saw it happen, felt it, and for just a second gripped her hard, twisting with her, beginning to cant his mouth near hers.

"I'm in a mood for you, or running away…"

Both were true, but long habit slew her. She broke away.

"I'm sorry!" Hurrying off in the direction of the entrance and coat-check.

"Stars come down in you, and love - you can't give it away…"

He supposed not.