Chapter Two

Ella sighs and takes her earbuds out of her ears. She's been at the microscope for hours, pouring over the, well, excrement and sewer water samples from their latest case-a body dumped down deep in the sewage out by the Santa Monica Pier. It's not the smell that's getting to her. After all, by now, she's gotten used to the scent of almost everything. It's more that she's not finding anything useful. The body's prints didn't help either. Whoever the victim is, well, she never had her prints in the system.

Ella hates hitting dead ends. She wants to always be able to find the angle no one else can. Right now, all she wants is rest, but she's not sure she can get that much either. Guilt is gnawing at her. This victim, like all the others in her career, is someone's daughter or sister…maybe even someone's mom. She owes the woman, but right now she's hitting a major wall. At least she has Friday night to look forward to, and she intends to introduce Michael to some of her favorite Christmas specials from when she was a kid and even maybe a schmulzy made-for-TV movie. Won't be as good for cuddling as a horror movie, not that she scares easy or the angel of fear does either, but she'll improvise and make sure to add extra hot cocoa liberally.

She leans back in her chair and cracks her neck. In fact, she's rubbing at the back of it when Lucifer strolls in. Ella arches an eyebrow at him and at the massive frozen coffee with extra whipped cream he's carrying. The rainbow sprinkles are a great touch, and she'll so be sure to snag it from him, but she won't give the Devil-the literal, freaking Devil-what he wants. In the two weeks since Thanksgiving, Ella might have been giving him a bit of the silent treatment.

Oh, she lets him come into her lab to play with his phone or escape from Dan, but she doesn't gab at him. Ella's hurt. A lot. She can't get her hands on Azrael, and she wants to. Badly. How dare Rae Rae change her whole life at eight on what? A jodido whim? But she can't get her to come by so Ella is taking her frustration with Celestial shenanigans out on the gang instead. With Lucifer, it's the just business demeanor. With Amenadiel, Ella's made up Christmas errands she has to run till the New Year so she can't show up for Charlie's regular tutoring sessions until then.

Both brothers should get to stew on it just a little.

They've been lying to her for years, and it really hurts. It's so unfair. She's not as mad at Chloe or Linda, as the Celestial secrets aren't entirely theirs to give, but Lucifer…he's been playing with her for a while now, and that's not okay.

Lucifer offers her his usual debonair smile, but it fades a bit when she answers his gaze with a stony one of her own. "Uh, Miss Lopez, I was figuring you'd be parched after spending so much time pouring over our latest case. I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Ella takes the drink and sips it carefully. She's mad at Lucifer, not upset enough to give herself a brain freeze from drinking too fast. It is good, and damn Lucifer for knowing her well enough to butter her up with something that tastes like sin on her tongue, but that much figures too, doesn't it?

"Miss Lopez," Lucifer starts again, drumming his fingers on the metal lab table at the heart of her space. "I can't help but notice that you've been rather quiet around me of late."

"You saying I talk too much, dude?"

Lucifer shakes his head and seems to flounder around her. Understandable. She can't think of many times he's even tried apologizing to Chloe, and she's rarely merited the treatment. Tough. Satan's gonna have to figure out how to treat her better.

"No, of course not or not any more than I talk."

"Guilty," she says, shrugging and trying not to think of Pete, even over a year later and all his pronouncements. Yeah, she speaks too much, but she doesn't have darkness in her, at least not the same type as Pete. She's not a murderer, just apparently an angel magnet. Ella's not sure how to reconcile that either, not yet. "But you can go if you want. The coffee drink is nice. Bring some for Dan and Chloe too?"

"Just for you. I thought it was time to catch up," he admits, and the drumming of his fingers hits a more frenetic pace.

Ella shrugs. Let him struggle. He's earned this. It's been almost five years between them, and she should have been told. Fuck, when she was struggling with her faith a little "Oh yeah, I'm that Lucifer, see my wings" would have saved her a fuck ton of pain.

She is many things, but right now not amused is chief among them.

"That was nice." She takes another sip. "Did you need anything else?"

"We haven't had time to talk."

"I think you mentioned that, and we're talking now, so I think we're good."

"Miss Lopez, I can't help but notice you've been frosty with me. Did I do something wrong? Have I erred in some way? Granted, I'm usually flawless, but even the Devil can make mistakes."

She rolls her eyes. "Ha, cause method, am I right?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "Yes, that bit. Surely method."

"Are you though?" she asks. Ella knows now and playing with him has its perks. "Method I mean. After all, Los Angeles is a weird town, right? City of Angels and where better to have literal ones."

"Exactly," he says, beaming unsteadily back at her. "A perfectly suitable place for even a Fallen one to settle."

"Uh-huh," she replies, setting her drink down. "You sure you're Old Scratch then?"

"Yup, been that way since the beginning of time, well, not the Devil but a Celestial of course."

"Prove it," she says leaning across the table and glaring up at him.

"Beg your pardon?"

She shrugs again, trying to play it all cool even if she's practically shaking with anger and frustration. "You're the Devil. Do something. I dunno, like in The Exorcist the bed levitates and pea soup and all that other mierda. You could do that, right? Get a little telekinesis out there?"

"Wouldn't that be 'a vulgar display of power?'" Lucifer asks, doing a decent impression of the croaky voice of Mercedes McCambridge from the old movie.

"Well, if you're the Devil, and after all this time, you should show me the goods. I've been taking a lot on faith while we work together. So, I dunno, show me some horns or something."

Lucifer stands taller and brings a hand to his chest. "I'm offended, Miss Lopez. I hardly have horns. That's just slander."

"You must do something, right? Put up or shut up, Luce."

He frowns at her and then narrows his eyes. "What would you even want? I…you've been spending an awful lot of time with my twin, haven't you? What has he been filling your head with?"

She shrugs again and stomps back to her microscope. "I dunno, Lucifer, maybe he's telling me the truth lately. Or maybe, you've just been saying 'I'm the Devil' enough that I'm starting to believe it. We had a murder massacre at the Mayan, a crazy set of broken out windows at the precinct a year ago that no one remembers seeing happen, and a crime scene that was full of giant, white feathers. What am I supposed to think?"

"You now that I never liked you spending time with Michael. He's a liar and a ruffian and-"

"We're friends," Ella hedges. She knows that Lucifer doesn't like Michael and vice-versa. Neither have really told her the whys or hows behind it, but she doesn't want to admit she's dating Michael after a whole couple weeks because she's not quite sure what a Devil going postal will do. And she's not sure Michael wants his brothers to know yet since it's all so new. "Maybe he tells me the things I should know."

"Miss Lopez?"

"Look, I have a lot to analyze so maybe you can just leave, Lucifer. If you're not going to show me anything real, then just get back to not doing filing work with Chloe."

"I don't understand."

She turns to glare at him from over her microscope. "Oh, but I think you do, dude. Like I said, muestramé. Either put up or shut the fuck up."

Michael is confused by the knock on his door. It's not a night that Ella's scheduled to drop by. As far as he knows, she's working on a tough case and they have plans for Friday night and a movie marathon he's leery of but can't be worse than more sci-fi crap, can it? However, as the knocking grows frantic on the other side of his door, Michael figures it's not Lopez. She'd be chattering on the other side by now. Rae Rae-who has been avoiding him-would have just swooped on in. Maybe it's Maze as they tend to bump into each other out and about, but she'd just kick the door down and leave him to figure out how to pay for it.

Michael doesn't really have friends so…

He sighs and shuffles his way to the door, groaning loudly when he looks through the peephole and finds his asshole of a twin. Samael must be in some kind of a chastened mood at least as Michael still has a front door. He has no illusions if he leaves his brother waiting much longer that he'll have a door after that.

And that's a fucking waste of money.

Grumbling again, Michael yanks his door open and crowds the threshold. "Sam, hi, not welcome here. Shove back off to your little girlfriend Dad made you." He can't completely resist digging at Samael though. It's just how he's natured. "Unless you've done something to truly piss her off. Maybe your pet detective moved on to greener pastures? Couldn't blame her if she did. Parboiled probably doesn't appeal much."

That is, as many things in Michael's life, a huge mistake.

His brother is on him in an instant, and Michael finds himself pinned against his far wall and choking in his twin's grasp.

"You don't get to utter word one about her," Samael snapps, eyes red and the hint of flames licking his face surely not Michael's imagination.

He rolls his eyes and coughs out a few words around Sam's iron grip. "Let go!"

"You've been mucking about in my life, and I am far from amused, Michael," Samael says, but he relents and Michael falls to his feet. His bad leg gives out from under him, and he lands hard on his tailbone and glares up at Samael with his own eyes glowing as fiercely as his brother's. A gold for his twin's crimson.

"I think I don't do jack shit near your life and haven't for the better part of a year. Brother." He tries to get to his feet, but his right leg has decided it wants to do fuck all to help him. After a few, pathetic minutes, Michael stops bothering and just leans against the wall. He doesn't let the heat of his gaze abate, but it's a futile gesture and both of them know it.

Oh dear Dad does Sam know it as he practically preens before Michael, straightening his collar and everything else. "You just take a load off then, Mikey. Don't get up on my account."

"Fuck you."

"What a mouth on you."

Michael's eyes finally have the heat leech from them, but he doesn't drop the hatred in his gaze. If anything, his loathing for Samael ratchets up. As always. "I haven't gone near your detective or your shrink. I've left things as they were and stayed clear of your and Amenadiel's racket."

"Ella Lopez. Explain."

Michael groans again, and of course, Lopez must have gotten tired of giving Sam the cold shoulder at work and apparently plotting a prank on him and just flat out told him that she knew. "We're museum buddies. We go a few times a month, but you knew that."

"I thought Amenadiel and I were quite clear that you were to back away from Miss Lopez and not play around with her. After Pete, she hardly needs another lowlife breaking her fragile sense of self-esteem apart."

Michael yanks at the collar of his turtleneck, which he suddenly finds cloying. "I am a lowlife. I don't deny that, but I'm not hurting her, not at all. She asked me for a favor to be a buffer with her family at Thanksgiving."

"Her family was in town?"

"Do you even care? You're busy these days with all your bullshit with Chloe Decker. Ella needed someone to help distract her family from pressuring her to go home to Detroit. Mission fucking accomplished."

Samael frowns and finally takes in the decorations in Michael's living room. Honestly, there aren't many, but while Ella has moved out the photoshopped pics (although he's kept a real framed one of them from the last trivia night they went to) and most of her collected baubles, there are still a half dozen bobbleheads, mostly Marvel movie crap, and a couple posters on his wall. Both the posters are Star Trek but fuck if Michael knows which movies in particular.

"What in Dad's name is going on here? These aren't yours, unless your aesthetic has changed drastically, Mikey."

"It's Michael," he corrects as if it means anything. Not like he'll ever deign to call Samael by his effect moniker either. "And I don't know what you mean."

"And I suppose that's your Thor Funko Pop then?"

Michael feels his cheeks flare red. "No, not exactly, and how do you know one Marvel superhero crap thing from another." He supposes he's lucky that Samael hasn't gotten as far as his living room and the tree that's pure comic book craziness. It's even more obvious he hardly had a hand in it.

"Miss Lopez and I have had a few movie nights and the urchin has started graduating from princess fare to this. Besides, Thor is rather lovely, isn't he?"

Michael rolls his eyes. He has no ill will toward his brother's general manwhore ways. That doesn't matter. If only his twin was as live and let live about Michael existing at all. That said, Michael isn't as flexible as his twin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. What does it matter what I have in my house, which you weren't invited to by the way?"

"Because these are Miss Lopez's aren't they." Sam stalks around the room with a fluid grace Michael would almost kill for before settling on the frame photo of him and Lopez out at trivia. "Is she living here?"

Michael shakes his head and scrubs a bit at the scruff on his chin. He's more unkempt than Samael, and his five o'clock shadow has long since graduated to scruffy beard. Lopez mocks it sometimes as "hipster," but he has fuck all idea what that actually means. "No, but she visits sometimes, especially since her dumbass chicken hates me and squawks the second I step into her place. It's quieter here, but she thought I needed to 'brighten it up.' Now I have half a dozen superhero hunks of plastic. Happy?"

"I told you to leave her alone."

"And I haven't hurt her," Michael replies finally and oh-so-slowly getting to his feet. He's winded by the time he's up again and leaning heavily on the wall for help, but he's still able to face his brother better and the even ground is what matters, not how he got to it. "We hang out. We're friends." Because there is no way he's telling Samael that they're dating. That will end with him smushed into an Altoids box. When and if they get to that point, full disclosure will come from Lopez, as Sam wouldn't hurt him if Ella gave the order.

It's a bit pathetic, but the Devil is a fuck ton stronger than he is, so Michael's got a vested interest in keeping all limbs and wings and skin as intact as it can be around his twin. Two worse times have taught him that much.

"Yes, friends. And what have you told her?"

Michael, despite how shittily everything has gone, can't resist baiting his brother a little. "Gee Sam, I dunno, what have you told her?"

"It's Lucifer."

Michael rubs at his bum shoulder. "You're no Lightbringer to me, and you never were. So, Samael, what is it you're really worried about. Lopez and I have been hanging out deliberately the better part of a year, and she's not hurt. I'm not Pete Daly, and I have no fucking interest in doing anything to her at all." He lets out a ragged breath and maybe says too much as an afterthought. "I never wanted to hurt her. I just want to make her smile."

Samael's eyes flash red again and he takes a step before forcing himself back to his corner of the room. "You can't make anyone happy. Eventually, you'll fuck it all up like you always do and leave the pieces to me and Amenadiel."

"Who are you criticizing, twin? Me or you?"

"I'm quite serious."

"So am I," Michael replies, letting his head loll against the wall behind him. "You want to know what I told Ella? I told her the truth. She needed it."

"I didn't give you permission to do that."

"Newsflash, I don't need it. She had a terrible Thanksgiving and…did you know that Rae Rae has been visiting her since she was a child?" Michael expects Sam to be shocked, but it angers him further when his brother just nods, a stony expression on his face. "You did know?"

"Not until a couple years back. Azrael and I hardly talk, but yes, I knew."

"Did you know she told her family it was a ghost she was seeing because Rae Rae lied about what she was? Do you have any idea how crazy they think she is?"

"She's not!"

Michael sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Sometimes Sam can be so very thick-headed. "No shit, Sherlock, but her family thinks she is and they treat her like crap. I spent half of thanksgiving watching her mother and her idiot brother, Ricardo, tear her down, and part of the day shoving them out of my house. It wasn't fair to let her think she was crazy and since Rae Rae wasn't around to fix her own mess or yours, I just told her."

Sam arches an eyebrow at him but stays unerringly still. Michael goes as steady in his own corner. For all of Samael's tendencies to run off half-cocked and to lash out in fits of anger, well, he's also his most dangerous the quieter he gets. Michael should know.

"You told her?"

"I showed her exactly what you should have years ago, and you're welcome by the way. I don't necessarily love showing my piece of shit wings around if I don't have to."

Sam's eyes blaze for just a moment again, a warning crimson that still unsettles Michael even though he's both spied it in L.A. and the few times over the millennia he's helped Amenadiel shoo the Devil back to Hell. It's so not Celestial that it leaves him wonder exactly what his twin is now.

"You seemed more than happy to do so with Daniel."

"Your douche," Michael replies, letting the word fall heavily between them. "was more than useful in my plans at the time. I needed him. This was different. Lopez should have been told. The minute you knew Rae Rae had been fucking with her, you should have explained it to her. That was wrong, Sam, and you know it."

His twin makes a fuss of adjusting the onyx ring on his right hand before granting Michael eye contact again. Oh Samael and his tells, his little ways to avoid eye contact.

"She wasn't ready."

"You weren't. So, yeah, she knows. You deal with it however you want to. I figure there's a lot of stuff you should be explaining to her by now."

A muscle in Samael's neck cords up before he speaks again. "Miss Lopez doesn't seem interested in talking much with me. She's been rather short of late, and I-"

"Yeah, I know that deal. You lie and it's easy or even fun at first. Eventually, though, it all tends to blow up in your face. I've definitely been there and more than once."

"I didn't lie. I never do!"

Michael laughs and the bitterness creeps into every tone of his voice as he does. "Of course you did. Omission, Samael, is all you do. I thought after the truth about Lilith came out or my little reveal to that cop idiot or even the miracle status for your pet…I thought you'd get that you can lie pretty fucking good by just leaving the right details out. That you have been doing just that." He shakes his head and starts to turn back to his kitchen. "I was right all along. The person you lie the most to really is yourself."

His twin's hand is on his bad shoulder in an iron grip. It takes Michael everything he has not to yelp at the pain. He will not give his brother the satisfaction.

"I see, but what is between myself and Miss Lopez is truly between us. They are hardly your concern. You win again, get to pull out a big reveal to one of my friends and cock up my life. Are you pleased?"

He pulls away from his twin or tries to, but the Devil's grip is beyond forceful. Michael stops yanking but arches his head over his shoulder to glare back at his brother. "It wasn't about you, Lucifer. It hasn't been in over a year. Lopez is…" complicated. Michael hardly has a death wish, but he knows if he mentions they're dating or something like it that Samael will end him right there. Besides, that's something for Lopez to let the Scooby Gang know when and if she ever feels like it. He won't take that right away from her. "…Ella is something else. She was hurting and she didn't deserve to feel insane anymore. I did what anyone else should have done."

Sam finally lets him go and Michael stumbles a few steps forward but doesn't fall this time.

His twin goes back to the super fastidious act and brushing lint from a lapel that is spotless. "Well, then, doesn't that just explain everything."

"I think if you want Lopez to start talking to you, then you owe her some honesty for once. Otherwise get out of my house."

Technically. He did scare people out of it, but, you know, they were gonna move anyway and technicalities were fine. He still had the damn deed.

"Whatever you two have…this game is old. You should move on and leave her be."

Michael rubs at his face again and shakes his head. "Not gonna happen. Now, you have a whole way overpriced tourist trap of a club to sulk at and a penthouse. Maybe you can lick your wounds there, asshole."

"We're not done talking about Miss Lopez. Amenadiel and I were kind enough not to end you for messing with her earlier. I'm asking you to drop whatever farce you've concocted. If you hurt her-"

"I think you and Rae Rae already did a fucking bang up job of that." Michael stalks to his front door and opens it. "Now, get the fuck out."

Ella is quiet before him, and Michael doesn't think that this movie night is working out the way she anticipated when she first suggested a Christmas film festival. At that time, she'd been babbling away happily about a half dozen titles he had no clue or care about from Home Alone (and how is that about Christmas) to The Muppet's Christmas Carol. However, they've settled instead onto the sofa with their cups of cocoa rapidly cooling in their hands and something so gratingly banal on the TV before him, that Michael has half a mind to just kick a hole through it.

Some clearly made for TV catastrophe with a budget of three dollars and the cliched journey of a female executive to find the meaning of Christmas by apparently marrying the first guy in Podunk she meets.

Riveting.

But Lopez has been watching the screen as if it were the most fascinating thing ever (it's far from) and sniffling a little. The noise isn't something he's used to hearing from her. Oh, he has at Thanksgiving and he really loathes Raquel. If they were in Detroit, he'd be tempted to visit Lopez's mom just enough to give her real nightmares. But she'd been doing better since he showed her his wings and at least Ella realized she wasn't crazy.

Had never been crazy.

And when he gets his hands on Rae Rae, he's absolutely gonna kill her. Okay, not literally. He's not evil. But he's going to scream. A lot.

Michael turns off the television just as the idiot lead character is seriously contemplating marrying someone she's known for about two weeks (bad idea totally). That's enough to snap Lopez at least a little out of her stupor.

"Cabrón! I was watching that."

"Yes, I'm sure it's ending is mysterious and unpredictable. It's a regular Chris Nolan film, Lopez."

She glares at him, but the effect is marred by her reddened eyes, Michael is immediately chastened. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings her close into his chest. "Hey, what's up?"

"It's fine."

"It's not fine. You promised me something watchable for 'tradition's sake,'" Michael adds a bit of air quotes with his bad hand on that point. "and we've sat through at least two of these Hallmark things. Maybe three? I don't know they all blur together. How many chicks have given up their careers today?"

She nudges his side, and he rolls with the motion. Lopez is many things, but she's no miracle, and he's still an archangel. If he didn't try and soften her blow, then she'd crack an elbow. "That's not funny! These are warm, like a blanket."

"And cloying, like being suffocated," he corrects, stroking her cheek. "Come on, you promised singing frog puppets and something called a 'grinch.' What's actually up. You and my idiot twin still fighting?"

Lopez sighs and doesn't say anything at first. That's how Michael knows he's hit pay dirt. She hardly has a quiet moment. He likes that about her. He's not usually a liar around her, and between Samael always being on and Rae Rae's tendency to ramble, Michael is more than used to waiting quietly for someone else to finish (or at least slow down in Samael's case) on the talking.

This silence from her is unnerving.

"Is it that bad?" he prods. "You get along with him. I don't know how you got him to act fraternal but good on you. Except for the Azrael, you'd be the first he really seems to give a shit about in that way. Well…I guess he and Amenadiel are all buddy-buddy too, but that was a total surprise coming, let me tell ya."

Lopez sighs and sips her drink before answering. "It's just weird at the station. I was really gonna prank him at first. I still might."

"Please let me help you. I have ideas about all sorts of things. He's not vulnerable around Chloe Decker any longer but I still have thoughts."

Ella blinks up at him. "What?"

"Chloe Decker-literal, actual, Dad-ordered miracle. For a while, he was vulnerable around her. Now he's not. I suspect it has more to do with how angels work or, well, don't exactly work than it does with how Chloe was made, but either way, Sam's got less of an Achilles Heel than he used to."

Lopez looks up at him with comically wide eyes. Damn if they're not beautiful even a bit swollen from crying. "What?"

"I forgot that? Sorry, there are a lot of Cliff's Notes, and you've had so much on your plate for a pretty damn long time, Lopez. I don't know exactly why Dad thought Samael merited his own special girlfriend present. Not one clue. But He asked it be so, Amenadiel did the blessing, and here Chloe is, as annoying and dogged as ever."

"Whoa. Wait so does Chloe have powers to? I mean half the people I know are angel or part angel or even a demon. What can Chloe do?"

"Nothing as far as I know. Well, she doesn't fall for Sam's line of crap, so technically she can't be desired by him. His powers won't work on her at all. The vulnerability thing really was more psychosomatic on Sam's end. I think."

"You think?" And she's sitting up now, her cocoa forgotten on the end table.

Her eyes are gleaming up at him with rapt and hungry fixation. Part of Michael loathes it because he desperately needs her to see him as just Samael's grouchy misanthrope of a brother. Not a Celestial, not some mythical being who's larger than life. On the other hand, if she's turned her scientific scrutiny toward him, then that means she's feeling better. At least a little.

"Angels…we self-actualize and not in a California guru bullshit way. Our subconscious can dictate what we literally are and what we can do. Sam felt vulnerable emotionally around Chloe so for a while the Devil could actually get stabbed or shot by mortal weapons. Total downgrade. I…Amenadiel accidentally froze all of time in the world because he was worked up about Chucky." Michael sighs and offers Lopez a bit more truth this time around. "Okay, so I made him worried about Chucky, but I didn't think he could do more than stop time in L.A. I didn't realize quite how strong he was or, maybe, being scared for his brat makes him."

Lopez slaps his shoulder lightly, and she's really not getting that archangel part yet. "Charlie's really cute!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Anyway, that's what happens. You can't help it, not really. Your deep seated issues do it for you."

"What has your subconscious done?"

He holds up his right arm and squeezes his fingers as best as he can into a fist. "Sometimes, I wonder why I can't heal. Yeah, could be even odds Sam's just that strong and really tore the fuck out of me. Maybe Dad doesn't and never wanted me to. Sometimes I worry that deep down I do deserve this and my mind won't let me heal, which fuck that because trying to get my subconscious to cooperate isn't feasible. You can't just talk to your inner most thoughts and get them all aligned on the right page. Doesn't really work that way in practice."

Michael doesn't want to disappoint her, but he's pretty much only good at disappointing others.

"Could you get better?"

"Haven't since before there was a human race, so I have fuck all idea how. Maybe, maybe not. But yeah, Chloe used to be Sam's Kryptonite. Now, not so much, however that happened. Mind over matter or just being a miracle fun side effect."

She nods and snuggles against him, and Michael welcomes the warmth of her body pressed against his own. "So no powers for her otherwise?"

"Nope."

"And Linda's normal?"

"Far as I know she's human. I mean, so is Eve, but she's that Eve so she's been around a while. No powers, just as fragile as any mortal woman is."

Lopez frowns up at him, a little wrinkle appearing in her forehead between her brows. Michael wants to kiss it badly in that moment, to banish it away and get back to a holiday mood. "What about me? Am I normal?"

"As far as I know you are. Amenadiel only blessed one person. Gabriel has been asked never to do it again after he quite literally fucked it up the first time he was asked. Why would you even ask?"

"Because there has to be a reason my life's so messed up. Rae Rae never showed herself to any other humans, right?"

"As far as I know, nope. Just you after all this time."

"And then she steered me into the path of the Devil and the first angel ever and the only Nephilim and Saint Michael."

"Not that exciting, not…kicking your own brother into Hell really isn't the amazing and uplifting moral victory the Church PR makes it sound like, trust me." Michael looks away again and only relaxes when she squeezes his hand.

It's the first time she's ever reached for his bad one.

Ella eyes him, glancing quickly between their interlinked hands and his face. "Is this okay? I should have asked."

"No," he says, setting his other hand over their intertwined ones. "it's perfect. You don't have to ask to touch me, even the weak side. I like it."

Her cheeks color red just a bit, and it's rewarding to find her flustered all over again. "I'm sorry. That must have sucked."

"And how," he says, moving on. "But let's…you asked the questions and this is about you. So, as far as I know, you're perfectly normal, Lopez. Maybe too sunny and kind for your own damn good, but you're just human. It's limiting, I know, but you're better than most Celestials I know so you get a break."

"Ha-ha." She sighs and sets her head back on his shoulder. "But Rae Rae…all of this has to mean something, doesn't it? Maybe your Dad just set it in motion for reasons."

"I hope not. I don't need Father fucking around in my life the way he seems to enjoy doing it with Sam and his pet detective. Really, really don't. I think this just happened, and I like it that way."

"Maybe, but there has to be something fucked up in me, right?"

Michael startles a bit and drops his left hand from over top of the others. "Why? Lopez, you heard me, right? You're like a combination of the Energizer Bunny and a Care Bear. Nauseating in its way, but about as threatening too. You're too good to be hanging around me at all."

"But I'm not. Not really. You don't know all the things that happened this last year or so or why my last boyfriend isn't around."

Michael wants to go back badly to the days where he lied. Oh he still lies a lot. What is poker if not bluffing? But he doesn't like lying to Lopez, and everyone else has done it to her for too damn long. It's tearing her to pieces. And Samael and his pet humans can't really even see it.

Or they find it easier to ignore it.

Even Michael's not sure which is the true reason.

He pulls away from her and to the far end of the sofa. "Look, Ella, I…you're probably going to leave after I say this, but I owe it to you too."

"Oh, so I'm not normal. Called it! Pete said I had a darkness in me and I haven't felt normal in so long and-"

Michael holds up his good hand to urge her into silence. "No, but I…I don't just elicit fears. I can feel them whether people mean to broadcast them or not. It's harder from my siblings but I can still feel it. With humans, it just leaks off you all so much. All the fucking time even when I don't care or want to feel it."

She stiffens before him and her eyes dart around the room, between the tree, the darkened TV set, and him. Though they never quite meet his eyeline. "All of them?"

"No, sometimes I get surface things, like that time you were over and saw a roach in my bathroom. Sometimes I get the deep shit, yeah. I know about Pete Daly. I know how close he came to killing you, and I promise you, he won't ever come close to hurting you again."

Lopez bolts up and starts to pace. The little elf hat she wore for tonight's rapidly dwindling festivities jingles as she moves; it makes everything seem less dire than it is. "What did you do?"

"Honestly, Sam visited him first at his holding cell. I stopped by after I read all he'd done off you-and I didn't pry, I'm just not like my brothers. I can't turn this off. Ever-but I scared him too. Pete's coherent…sometimes. But he's definitely convinced Hell is coming for him." Michael shrugs. "Can't say he's wrong. I ever go back to being The Great Judge, and there's no way he's getting into the Silver City. He's Sam's and for once I'm glad about that."

"But you knew? Did you know the whole time?"

"First time I bumped into you at La Brea, yeah. I know everyone's darkest secrets, the things they never want to share with everyone. Their weaknesses. All that baggage gets to live in my head. All my brothers and sisters…everything they're scared shitless Dad will find out about or probably already does know about…yeah, I get that too. I never asked for it, and I try to block it out, I do, but it feels impossible most days. I can't ever stop how I make others feel, and I can't block all of it out. I don't want to know these things, usually, Lopez. It made my whole family nervous to be near me long before I ever had my wings ruined."

Lopez stops pacing. She doesn't get near the couch again, but she doesn't grab her coat and rush for the door either. "Do you know all my fears?"

"No. I try my hardest around you to block it out, but Pete's so fucking strong in your head. It's why I visited him, why I made sure he knew how literally, cosmically fucked he truly is. I never read the fears of being crazy off of you. I had no idea till your family blurted it out. I'm sorry they did, and I'm so sorry that happened to you. But, no Ella, as far as I know, you're just normal and Rae Rae is an idiot. There's no grand plan for it, and she never should have appeared to you at all. I wish she hadn't since it bothers you so much."

She frowns and edges toward him and finally sits back down on the sofa. "I don't know if I regret. I'm just frustrated. I see a million little off ramps. I didn't have to go into forensics. I didn't have to go to California. I didn't have to transfer to Lucifer's precinct. I didn't…but Rae Rae suggested and things just snowballed at work and it all ended up with me making yet another bad dating decision-"

"Should I be offended?" Michael jokes.

"You're still a step up from most of the perdedors I've been with," she admits.

"I rank higher than a serial killer and Dan Espinoza. That's a real ego killer."

She squeals and soon enough a pillow explodes into a flurry of feathers over his head. "You read that on me?"

"I am not picking that crap up," Michael says. "Besides, I read it on the douche. He's terrified Chloe will find out and castrate him. I can't say I'm not tempted."

"Jealous?"

"No, it's more that he used it to shut you up and try and get you not to report his ass. I just…you do deserve better in who you date, Lopez." Michael fidgets with the hem of his turtleneck. "Honestly, you deserve a fuck ton better than me. It might be one of the few things Sam and I actually agree on. He gave me an earful when he was here last."

"What?"

"Oh crap."

Lopez's expression has changed in an instant from raw and vulnerable to truly enraged. "I have four real idiotas in my life who are the crappiest brothers ever. I'm frustrated with Lucifer for not telling me stuff, and I am flattered he's always been like an actually decent big brother, but he can't…he doesn't get to scare off my boyfriend."

"I didn't confirm we were dating, mostly because then Sam would murder me. Or take the other wing and break it. Probably."

Her arms are around him again, as tight as an anaconda, and Michael still isn't used to how freely she gives affections and hugs. "I haven't yet either. It's not because I don't want to but, yeah, I was worried Amenadiel and Lucifer would react and it would go totally FUBAR."

"Yeah, so I need to think of a best way to fortify my house before you do."

"Rayos."

"No worries," he replies, even if that's anything but true. "Still, you should date a better person, Lopez. I got kicked out of heaven at least temporarily. I don't have a real job, and my whole family hates me."

"Mine thinks I'm nuts."

"Yeah, but the difference is you're not at all, but I really am an asshole."

She kisses him and he relaxes into the affection, not even realizing how much he's needed it. There's too much honesty right now, and it's gutting him and tearing at his walls. "Yeah, but you're more like an acquired taste. I like you a lot."

"Thanks, but…"

"Are you gonna take my free will from me too? Lucifer goes on and on about choice and why he left home and all that other mierda, but here he is trying to scare you off. Michael," she adds, stroking his cheek, her fingers playing over the scar on his right side. "I like you too, a lot."

"No one ever does."

"Then they've been wrong. I just…man I messed tonight up. I was going to show you like eight versions of A Christmas Carol and just got real sad and zoned out in front of-okay you're right-totally shitty holiday stuff made in a factor somewhere in Canada."

"Literally?"

"Might as well be," Lopez adds, winking at him. "Anyway, this is…you can pick whatever I've got in my DVD piles. We'll do it all up right."

Michael smirks down at her. "Nah, Lopez, I have a better idea. We'll do shots."

"Um not very Christmassy."

"I have some of that eggnog crap. Pour us each something huge and I'll tell you how the first Christmas really went down. I mean, some angel had to announce everything to the shepherds, right?"

Her eyes grow so wide as she squeals. Again, Michael feels torn in two; part of him is wincing at the hero worship for the archangel he was and won't ever be again and the other just is glad to see her not so upset over his idiot twin and all those years of lies. He decides to humor her, and let her pick his brain on his angel side for now.

"Are you serious? I thought it was Gabriel who did the shepherd stuff!"

Michael grins. "I told you. He was the blessing angel. How do you think Jesus got here?

"Oh so like how Amenadiel blessed Chloe's family but with more oomph?" she asks, heading toward the kitchen.

"Nah, Gabriel took the idea of a blessing way, way too far. He slept with Mary to deliver Dad's gift. So, you know, 'virgin' my ass."

Lopez stops so fast she slides in her sock-covered feet into the kitchen island. "What the actual fuck?"

"See, now you know why you need the booze."