Lucifer looked down affronted as the five year old son of his elder brother unceremoniously climbed into his lap, stopping him from continuing his solemn symphony.
"Uncle Luci?" asked the lisping limpet. "Why is my name Charlie?"
Lucifer frowned down at the young child. Seriously? This was the all important question that he had to so urgently ask that the snot dribbling little offspring interrupted his masterpiece?
Well the kid wanted answers, and never let it be said that Lucifer Morningstar wasn't honest to a fault.
"Well my sticky little nephilim nephew," Lucifer finally answered. "You were named after the woman whose body was once used to torture your mother." At his horror struck look he decided to amend his answer. "Oh, and she also died while trying to save your father's life." He finished with a grin.
The child just gaped up at him.
Lucifer sighed heavily and lifted the boy bodily off him and placed him back on the floor. "Listen Urchin Jr. Why don't you go ask your Mum these questions, huh?" He asked turning the little boy around and pushing him towards the bar where Linda and Maze were chatting unware of the trouble brewing. "That's a good little spawn, eh?"
Lucifer turned back to his Steinway as the distraught child hurried back to his mother full of questions. "Now, where was I?" he asked as he tapped the keys softly. "Ah, right." And the tender tunes filled the penthouse once more while Linda scowled at the Devil and Maze tried to hide her smile.
Just a little Lucifer drabble. The Devil is not good with kids.