Sam sits in one of the darker corners of the bar, watching his partner chat with Eve while keeping a weather eye on the front door. He hides a smile. It took a person with a colder heart than his new partner to resist Eve's charms.

He sniffs the air, and frowns across the table at his father, who has somehow managed to procure a joint. "Where did you get that?"

"One of the men downstairs had some on him." His father takes a deep inhale, and offers it to Sam. "It's pretty good stuff, want to try?"

"No, thanks."

"Since when are you too good to share a joint with your old man?"

"Since we're busy trying to catch a possible murder suspect?" He answers dryly. He glances over and sighs at his father's hurt stare. "Put it away for now. I'll drop by the penthouse later tonight and we can finish it off."

With a smile, his father puts the joint out and slips it into his jacket pocket. "Remind me why we're hiding here in a corner instead of sitting at the bar?"

"If this guy's anything like Vinny, he's not going to react well if he sees the two of us waiting for him. Better that he sees Roberts and Eve first." He nods as Vinny brings over a tray with two shots of whiskey for him and his father. Eve had kindly offered up a few of her people to clean the bar above ground-including the removal of the still-unconscious men. They were surprisingly efficient, and the bar now appears more or less the same as when they arrived. Which isn't saying much, if Sam says so himself.

"Roberts and Eve don't look as threatening, so he's less likely to spook. I'd rather not have to chase after him." He takes a sip of the whiskey and makes a face. "Grandfather help me, this stuff is no better than rubbing alcohol."

His father hasn't even bothered, opting to just take out his own flask. "Well, what did you expect? I'd be shocked to find this place has indoor plumbing." His father shakes the flask at him. "Well?"

This time, Sam smiles. "Got my own." He reaches into one of the many secret pockets of his leather jacket and pulls out the engraved, onyx flask he got for his eighteenth birthday.

His father's face lights up. "Whiskey?"

"Rum."

Eagerly, his father holds out his flask. "Switch?"

With a quick glance to make sure his partner's back is still towards him, he switches flasks and takes a gulp of his father's top-shelf whiskey.

"Mmm." His father says after taking a drink from Sam's flask. "Excellent. You've got good taste."

He's thirty-six going on thirty-seven but his father's approval still creates a warm glow under Sam's breastbone. He takes another sip of whiskey to hide it.

"Your new partner is doing well." His father comments as they watch her and Eve chuckle over something at the bar. "If she hadn't told me, I wouldn't even have known this was her first case." His gaze slides over to Sam. "Quite attractive, too." He adds slyly.

He doesn't take the bait. It's just like his father to poke at him about how attractive his new partner is. "Yeah, her talents were definitely wasted in Narcotics. I'm more surprised at how well she's taking all the Devil stuff."

He won't admit it, but he's pleased at Robert's reaction to his father. He doesn't have a lot of people in his life that he considers real friends-people he trusts above all else. Very few could handle the drama that came with dealing with his family, his father especially. It was one of the reasons he was so resistant to the idea of a partner who wasn't a family member.

But while Roberts doesn't seem to be entirely sold on the whole "Son-Of-The-Devil" thing, she's taking it all in stride. Maybe she'll actually want to stick around.

His father isn't quite as optimistic. "That's because she doesn't really believe it." He takes another sip from Sam's flask. "They never do."

Sam doesn't get a chance to respond, because at that moment the door opens and in walks Clive Fleming.

"Here we go." He murmurs. He and his father shift in their seats, just enough so that they can get up in a hurry if they need to.

"He's even worse-looking in person." His father whispers. Sam shoots him a warning look.

Clive goes up to the bar, his eyes flicking left and right anxiously-searching for a trap. Sam pretends to take a drink from his shot glass, keeping his expression bland. Just a regular guy getting a drink with his buddy/father.

Visibly relaxing, Clive wanders up to the bar, right next to Roberts. Sam watches intently as Clive and Vinny exchange pleasantries. So far, so good.

But too quickly, Vinny's expression changes. Clive tenses, and Sam knows that their quarry has figured out something is up. Before Sam can move to intercept, Roberts lays a hand on the man's shoulder. Clive jerks frantically, but in one fluid movement Roberts has his arms behind his back and is cuffing him.

Sam raises his brows, impressed in spite of himself. The whole sting went down faster than he could have dreamed. "Wonderful." He gets to his feet, his father right behind him.

"Hello, Clive." He greets the man easily. "I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

"I didn't do anything, I swear!" Clive struggles wildly in Robert's grip.

"Then why were your fingerprints on one of the knives that killed Haley?" Roberts demands coolly. If she's having trouble holding the taller, heavier man in place she doesn't show it. If Sam hadn't found her attractive before, he certainly does now.

Clive freezes in place.

"Haley's dead?" he whispers. His tone is so horrified that Sam almost believes the man really didn't know.

"Yes, that's typically what happens when you stab someone six times." His father quips. "There was no need to overdo it, once was probably enough."

Sam is aware of Eve and her so-called "subjects" watching them. "Look, let's go down to the station and talk this over." He tells Clive in a friendly voice that has fooled more sophisticated killers. "We just want to hear your side of the story." He nods at Roberts. "I called in a few unis before we came up here, they should be outside by now. Go put him in a cruiser and we'll take him back to the precinct." He gives her one of his best smiles. "Excellent work, by the way."

He's a little disappointed when she just gives him an absent nod and nudges their charge out of the bar ahead of her.

He turns his head to find Eve beaming at him. "She's lovely, Sam."

"Well, it's hard not to be lovely around you, Eve." He gives his adopted aunt a grateful hug.

Sam's mother had been an only child, and while his father has a whole mob of siblings, Sam doesn't see them often. Instead, he had grown up with his parents' friends filling a lot of the traditional family roles. Eve accepted her role as Sam's surrogate aunt with enthusiasm, treating it as one of the multiple new experiences she's had since ditching Heaven.

"Thanks for all the help...your Majesty." He kisses her hand with a smile. He had been the one to tell Eve about the abandoned speakeasy in the first place.

"Of course. You let me know if you need anything else." Eve feigns giving him a peck on the cheek so that she can murmur in his ear. "See you Sunday?"

"Naturally." He shifts so that his father can get a clear view of his ex-girlfriend.

"It was good to see you, Eve." his father says, a bit awkwardly. Sam is pretty sure that seeing Eve again has thrown him off balance. Not that he'll ever admit it.

Luckily, Eve takes it with her usual grace. "It was good to see you too, Luce." She places a gentle hand on his arm. "Try not to be such a stranger from now on. I've missed you."

His father just gives her a wan smile and walks out of the bar.

Eve frowns after him, concerned. "I do hope you know what you're doing, Sam." She says in a low voice.

Sam doesn't take his eyes off his retreating father. "Me too, Eve." he agrees quietly. "Me too."

Sam curses loudly when he notices who's waiting by his desk.

"Charlie!" His father brushes past him to clap his cousin on the shoulder. "I suppose congratulations are in order, on the whole...Lieutenant thing." He gestures to Charlie's uniform. Unlike the past lieutenants, who would dress semi-casually in the precinct, Charlie likes to let everyone know he's in charge by wearing the official garb every day. If Sam were feeling charitable, he would say that Charlie's broad, solid frame in the uniform simply looked natural, a suitable complement to the air of authority that Charlie has carried around him since they were kids. But he has a bad feeling he isn't going to be feeling charitable after he hears what Charlie has to say.

"Thanks, Uncle Luci." Charlie crosses his arms over his chest. "I heard you got yourself a suspect in the Sanders case. Good work."

"We got ourselves a suspect in the murder." Sam intervenes before his father can take all the credit. "Though I'm not one hundred percent certain it was him."

"Wasn't it his fingerprints on the murder weapon?" Charlie's mild tone sets Sam's teeth on edge.

He and Charlie had had their differences over the years, but they had worked well as partners. Sam would even go so far as to admit-grudgingly- that Charlie had been a good detective before he was made lieutenant.

His cousin was a firm believer in every case deserving the same amount of dedication, no matter the victim's background; rich or poor, black or white, drug dealer or innocent co-ed, Charlie fought equally hard for all of them. Justice, he had told Sam more than once, belonged to everyone.

But Charlie was also a believer in cold, hard facts.

Sam knows that they have a murder weapon-one of two, apparently-and the man whose fingerprints were on that weapon, but there's still something in his gut saying that Clive might not be their guy. And his mother had taught him to always listen to his gut.

Sam opens his mouth, knowing it's futile, when a voice rings out behind him.

"I agree with Detective Decker."

Sam blinks, certain that he's heard wrong. But no, Roberts is definitely standing next to him, backing him up.

Roberts continues, "He sounded honestly surprised when we told him Haley was dead, and he doesn't seem clever enough to fake his reaction. And everyone knew he worked at the same diner she did-it would have been easy to get a knife with his fingerprints and plant it." She shrugs. "I suppose I could be wrong, but him being the killer doesn't sit right."

His father frowns thoughtfully. "He did seem rather easy to catch, for a killer." He allows.

Sam's warm pleasure at his father and Roberts' support is quickly snuffed out when Charlie replies. "You two might have a point, but that doesn't explain what happened to the second knife. Uncle Luci, you're a veteran here. Why don't you and Roberts take point on the interview?" Charlie nods at Sam. "Detective Decker and I will listen in." Without waiting for agreement, he strides off to the observation room.

His father and Roberts seem genuinely surprised by this order, though only Roberts gives him a commiserating glance before heading in to interview Clive.

Sam keeps his face blank as he walks through the squad room. It's only when he's safely inside the observation room with Charlie that he snaps.

"So now, not only do I need a partner but I can't be trusted to interview suspects?" He slams the door behind him. "Is one of your goals as Lieutenant to be a pain in my ass?"

Charlie doesn't take his eyes off the interview room. "Calm down, Sam. This might shock you, but I don't make these decisions just to piss you off."

"Then why did you assign me a partner, when you knew full well that I was planning on bringing my father in as a consultant? Hell, Charlie, you signed off on it!"

"The brass has been on me for ages to assign you a partner, Sam. I held them off for as long as I could." Charlie sends him a withering glance. "I was your partner, remember? I know better than most how you can be. You're reckless, have little regard for the rules and procedures-"

"None of which prevents me from being one of the best detectives in the department." Sam snaps back. It wasn't vanity if it was true.

He stalks over to stand on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall. Through the two-way glass he can see Roberts enter the interview room, his father right behind her, and take a seat with her back to him. His father is off to one side, his attention on Clive but letting Roberts take the lead.

The sight is so familiar that it causes an ache in his chest. He had lost count of the number of times he had snuck into the precinct as a kid to watch his parents question a suspect in this exact manner.

An absolutely horrific notion follows on the tail end of that thought. "Please don't tell me that you made Roberts my partner because you're trying to match her up with my father." He makes a gagging sound that's not quite a joke.

He's grateful to see that Charlie looks just as repulsed by the idea as he is. "Are you crazy? Of course not." He lets out a gusty sigh. "You need someone to help balance out your more erratic qualities, Cousin. Why do you think your parents worked so well as partners? Your mother's stable nature balanced out your father's volatile one." Charlie glances at him sidelong. "You and your father are too much alike, Sam. Having just the two of you be partners would have been a disaster." Charlie motions to Roberts. "I assigned you to Roberts because out of all the candidates, she seemed like the best fit for you...and for Uncle Luci."

Before Sam can question him further, Charlie presses the button that allows them to listen in, and Roberts' voice fills the room.

"We have your fingerprints on the weapon we found, Clive." Roberts pulls out the pictures of the crime scene and lays them in front of the suspect. "We know you worked with Haley, and that you two lived together. That's a lot of connections between you and the victim to be just a coincidence."

His father chimes in. "Yes, and how did you manage to win the affections of such a beautiful girl with your troll-like appearance?" He puts his palms flat on the table and leans towards the suspect. "I'm genuinely curious...I'd say you must have made a deal with the devil, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember that."

Clive stares at both Roberts and his father. "Wait...you think Haley and I were dating." He makes a noise of disgust. "She was my niece, for God's sake!"

Sam's father jerks back from the table, startled.

"Didn't see that coming." Sam murmurs. Charlie, he's gratified to see, seems just as stunned.

"Haley was your niece." Roberts says slowly. She didn't react quite as dramatically to Clive's statement, but Sam can hear the shock in her voice. "That's why you were living with her?"

Clive shifts nervously in his seat. "'I've always been the screw-up in the family." He explains after a short pause. "In and out of trouble for most of my life. My parents, my sister, my ex-wife, they all gave up on me a long time ago, and I don't blame them." He smiles a little. "But not Haley. She wrote to me the entire time I was in prison. I told her not to bother, that I wasn't worth it, but Haley always believed that there was good in everyone. She was so sure I could turn my life around. It got to the point where I kind of started to believe it too, you know?"

Sam's eyes are on his father. His back is to the window so Sam can't see his face, but he's gone rigid.

Clive keeps talking. "She was the first person I called when I got out. Her father-my brother-in-law-was pissed when he found out. Stopped talking to her. But she still offered to help me. She got me a job at the diner she worked at, let me sleep on her couch…"

"She wanted to help you be a better person." Roberts is good. There's no judgement in her voice, only gentle encouragement. An invitation for Clive to keep opening up.

"She did." Clive wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "Sometimes it felt like she was the only one who believed in me. Now there's no one left." He adds sadly.

"All right, this is all a bit too depressing." His father exclaims. Sam wonders if he's the only one who can hear the quiet note of panic in his father's voice. "Let's just settle this now, shall we?" He sits in the empty chair across from Clive, staring hard at the ex-con. "Tell me, troll...what is it that you desire?"

Clive's face slackens as the need to answer overtakes his natural reticence. "I...I want to keep my family from suffering more than they already have." He says dreamily. "They've had to go through so much because of me, and I don't want to hurt them anymore."

Roberts leans forward in her seat. "You didn't kill Haley." It's a statement, not a question. Sam wishes that she was facing him so he could read her reaction. He's curious as to what she thinks of his father's interrogation methods.

Clive blinks rapidly, like he's just surfaced from underwater. "No, of course not! I loved Haley, I wouldn't do anything to hurt her, not after all she did for me. That's why I ran when I saw the police cars at the diner. I thought maybe there had been a burglary or something, and I didn't want to get Haley in trouble with her boss. Not everyone likes hiring an ex-con. I didn't know it was because…" Grief that is too raw to be feigned echoes across his face. "Who would do that to such a good girl?"

Sam rubs his temple, frustrated. His gut was right, Clive isn't their guy, which means they are back at square one.

"That's what we plan to find out." Roberts tells the ex-con.

Charlie clicks the speaker off. No reason for them to listen in. It would be pretty shocking if Clive had any new information for them.

"Looks like you and your partner were right." Charlie observes. "He's not the killer."

Sam is both triumphant and disappointed. Triumphant because he was right-but that means that the poor girl's killer is still out there.

He leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He had been the one to take the statements from Haley's boss and co-workers. Haley had been beloved by all of them, the pet of the entire staff. She had been a sweet, considerate girl, always happy to take on an extra shift if it meant helping out a fellow waitress. She had been studying at the local community college-sociology. She had wanted to be a social worker. She had wanted to spend her life helping people.

And now that life had been snuffed out, and they had nothing, nothing-

"Sam." His cousin's voice cuts through Sam's raging thoughts.

He opens his eyes, knowing without looking at his reflection that they've changed from their normal blue-grey to a deep, burning red.

His cousin is gazing at him compassionately. "You'll get him."

Sam studies his cousin. In looks and personality, they are like night and day-much like their fathers, in that respect. But despite their differences, they had been solid partners before Charlie abandoned him to become Lieutenant.

Most of their co-workers thought that the reason Sam was upset about Charlie's promotion was because he had wanted the job for himself, but Sam had actually dared Charlie to take the Lieutenant's exam, even while knowing his cousin would pass.

But he had never expected Charlie to be offered the job, nor had he expected his cousin to just throw away their partnership of seven years and accept the position. Especially a mere two months after the death of Sam's mother, when Sam was still reeling from the loss of not one, but two parents.

Still, his cousin's unwavering faith steadies him, helps him push back his anger and focus on the case.

Sam breathes out hard through his nose. "Unlikely, seeing as we no longer have any leads. Unless." he frowns. "Whoever killed Haley left a knife with Clive's fingerprints on it. Maybe it's not Haley they wanted to suffer, but Clive." He paces to better utilize the skills he inherited from both parents-his mother's analytical mind and his father's extensive knowledge of punishment. "Clive loved Haley, so killing her and setting Clive up to take the fall works to torture him on multiple levels. He not only loses someone who loved and believed in him, but he also goes to jail for her murder."

"You think whoever did this is after Clive?"

"It's possible. I'll have Gabby draw up a list of contacts, see if anyone fits the mold." Sam crosses his arms over his chest. Listening to the interview had distracted him, but now he's remembering he's supposed to be angry at Charlie, not himself.

"So why wasn't I allowed in there, Lieutenant? It's not like I haven't ever interviewed a murder suspect before."

Sam did inherit the ability to get humans to reveal to him their darkest, deepest secrets and desires from his father, but unfortunately, he found that it only worked when he was in his angel form-in other words, when his wings were out. Seeing how this was rather inconvenient-most humans simply couldn't handle seeing proof of the divine-Sam had to learn how to interrogate suspects the normal way.

Charlie leans against the wall across from him, so that their bodies mirror each other. "I didn't call you in here because I didn't think you could handle yourself," he says after a moment. "I did it so that I could talk to you without your father listening in." They both angle their heads to check that Sam's father is still in the interview room. "How's he doing?"

Sam shrugs. "You know how he is. He's...Dad." That pretty much sums it up, and Charlie nods knowingly. "He's stable."

"Good. How's he been around Roberts?"

Sam narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "He likes her, I think. As much as he likes most humans." His father enjoyed the company of humans, unlike most of his celestial siblings, but it was a detached sort of enjoyment. For the most part he treated them like toys, to be picked up and played with whenever he was bored. There were a few he genuinely liked as people, but Sam isn't sure where Roberts falls on that scale just yet.

"You think she likes him?"

"Of course." He and Charlie chorus, "What's not to like?"

They chuckle, and Sam is reminded that, even though Charlie frequently pisses him off, he's one of the few people who truly gets what it was like to grow up with his father.

Charlie's expression sobers. "You're playing a dangerous game here, Sam."

"I told you, he's stable." Sam scowls. "Is that what all this is about? Your own mother said that consulting might help." He supposes that it's too much to hope for that this experience convinces his father to return to therapy, too.

After his mother died, Sam's Aunt Linda had offered her help to guide his father through his grief, but before they could convince him to go, his father had taken off. Even once he returned, his father refused to call Sam's aunt to schedule a session.

Charlie nods once in acknowledgement. "True, she did. But I doubt she told you to lie to him."

"I'm not lying." Sam protests.

"Ah, so you told him about our trip to Heaven? You told him the real plan, the one you and your mother devised?" Charlie stares at him grimly. "You're letting him think that this was some sort of therapy treatment concocted by my mom. He's going to find out, and you and I both know how he's going to react if he even suspects you might be manipulating him."

"If there is one thing he can't stand, it's being manipulated." Sam agrees, shoving away from the wall. He takes the flask out of his pocket, absently noting he is still carrying his father's silver one, and takes a defiant sip. "But it's not like I have been lying, per se. I've just been omitting certain facts." Charlie just looks at him. They both know how his father will take that excuse. "I was going to come clean once the case is solved. After we've caught and punished a killer, like he used to do." He glances into the interview room and groans when he finds it empty. "Oh, hell. How long have they been gone?"

"It's all right, we're done here, anyway." Charlie straightens up, twisting back and forth to get the knots out of his spine. "I just wanted to make sure you know what you are doing."

"Of course I do." Sam says with more confidence than he truly feels. "This will work, you'll see."

"All right. Then get back to work, Detective-"

"Hold on," Sam says sharply, before Charlie can open the door. "I'm still curious about why you assigned Roberts to me as a partner. What is it about her that makes you think she's a good fit?"

Charlie is silent for a long moment, one hand on the knob. "I think I'll keep that to myself for a while longer." He grins over his shoulder at Sam. "Good luck."

With a dry chuckle, he walks out.

Sam huffs. "And people say my dad's evil." he grumbles, and hurries out to go see what Roberts and his father have managed to come up with.

"I'm starting to wonder if Clive was playing us that whole time." Joy complains as she stares at the four mug shots up on the projection screen. "Maybe he's a better actor than we gave him credit for."

Decker, Lucifer, Gabby and herself have taken over one of the nearby conference rooms to discuss the case, not that there is much to discuss. The room smells faintly of coffee, emanating from the untouched cups that sit alongside the piles of evidence notes, crime scene pictures, and other case-relevant paperwork that litters the conference room table. None of which have given them any new leads.

She taps her fingers against her thigh, agitated. This is her first homicide case, and they keep hitting roadblocks at every turn.

"Maybe we would have more if you had let me rough him up a bit, like I'd suggested." Lucifer says, shooting her a wounded look. He had asked her shortly before they went to interview Clive, claiming that he had often gotten more satisfactory answers whenever he did. Naturally she had refused, and was a bit surprised that he had listened to her.

There's no doubt that Lucifer's weird ability to get the suspect to talk worked without additional violence, though it still baffles her. As far as she can tell, Lucifer didn't really do anything. All he did was ask a simple question, and the suspect had acted almost as if he was compelled to answer. It was as if Lucifer had used some sort of hypnosis.

Had he used the same thing on her earlier today? And if so, why hasn't she felt it since this morning?

Her questions will have to wait until later, after they've found poor Haley's killer.

"Don't go second guessing your instincts." Decker tells her, his eyes on the projection screen. "He did give us four new potential suspects, after all." He leans around her to ask his cousin, "Are you sure these guys are clean, Gabby?"

"Positive. I dug so deep into their whereabouts, I'm surprised I didn't end up in China." Gabby replies, sipping from her coffee mug- not one of the precinct's typical white ones but a mug covered in pink glitter that she must have brought from home. "They all have airtight alibis." She points to the one on the far left, "This one was with his girlfriend-confirmed, because apparently they have ridiculously noisy sex and the neighbors heard them."

"Well, if you need an alibi that's certainly a good one to have." Lucifer points out, amused.

"This one," Gabby continues, pointing to the one on the right. "Was with his roommates at a local bar. Bartender confirms. And these two…" She points to the last two pictures. "Were actually in our holding cell on unrelated charges. Cocaine."

"Selling or snorting?" asks Lucifer.

"Does it matter?" Decker shakes his head. "Let's go over what we know again. Maybe we'll find something we didn't see before." He spins away from the projection screen to stare hard at the case files behind him. "We know the time of death was around 7 a.m.…"

Joy hurries over to the other side of the table to rifle through the other half of the paperwork. "Almost an hour after the diner opened." She notes. "She wasn't at work for long." She thinks out loud. "The killer had to know her schedule. Otherwise how would they know when she was working? Waitresses constantly rotate or change their hours. The killer had to have known ahead of time that she'd be there."

Decker nods, running his fingers down a list of names. "Yeah, and all her co-workers were accounted for. The diner has security cameras inside the building, but not the alleyway where she was killed."

Lucifer leans against the far wall, bored. "That's a shame. Otherwise we would have seen whoever killed the poor girl and would have found him by now."

Joy's head shoots up when a young voice pipes, "Did you check the security footage around the time she started work? Maybe she talked to someone suspicious before she went out to the alley."

They all turn to look at the girl standing in the doorway. She looks around ten or eleven, with thick, chocolatey hair framing a round face and hazel eyes. She's carrying a backpack that doubles as a stuffed animal tucked under one arm.

To Joy's consternation, the girl strides right past Lucifer and starts to go through the crime scene photos with authority.

"If she did talk to someone, you'll have to find evidence to see if they went into the kitchen for the knife." She says brazenly, tapping the photo of the murder weapon. "Otherwise, the tape is just circumcisi-al at best."

Decker huffs out a laugh. "I think you mean circumstantial." He angles his head towards Joy sheepishly. "She's right. We should check the tapes and see if Haley talked to anyone before heading out to the alley."

"I'll go get them." Gabby says brightly. "Nice work, Bella." She and the girl exchange a high-five as she walks out.

Lucifer pushes himself away from the wall and peers at the girl with wary interest. "What are you even doing here, you little deviant?" He asks. "Don't your parents have some sort of...I don't know, kennel or something they keep you at during the day?"

The girl-Bella-blinks at him, confused.

Decker smiles down at her. "I think he wants to know why you aren't in school, Monster." The way he says it makes the name sound more like a term of endearment than an insult.

Bella's sigh is full of exasperated disdain. "It's a half-day. Daddy's out of town, so Mommy brought me into work with her. I was on my way to the vending machine when I heard you guys talking in here." She points to the picture of Haley. "Is that the dead girl?"

Before any of them can answer, a pretty woman with Bella's dark hair appears in the doorway.

"There you are, Monkey." She exclaims in relief. "What have I told you about bothering your uncle while he's at work?" Her admonishment is ruined as she lovingly tucks a curl behind the girl's ear.

Uncle? Joy's eyes immediately jump to Lucifer.

"I was helping." Bella tells the woman, obviously her mother, insistently. "Uncle Sam, tell her I was helping you solve the case!"

Joy nearly spits out her coffee. While she had gathered this was yet another one of Decker's multiple family members, it had honestly never crossed her mind that he might have siblings.

"It was nice of you to help." The woman's eyes are lingering on the crime scene photos.

Decker notes where her gaze has fallen, and subtly arranges the pictures so that the ones of Haley's body are no longer visible.

"But I don't think you should be in here while the grown-ups are trying to work." She adds, with a grateful nod at Decker.

Older sister, Joy deduces, leaning back to watch this new episode of Decker Family Drama. It's hard to tell how much older because, like Decker, she has one of those faces that seems ageless. Dark hair is pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, highlighting bright, determined eyes. She's dressed simply but elegantly in cream-colored sweater and black slacks. Not a cop, Joy thinks. She doesn't have that vibe.

"Perhaps you should try putting her on a leash, Urchin." Lucifer chimes in. Like Decker, his use of the term is more affectionate than insulting. Like it's some sort of pet name. "I have a few you could borrow." He smiles at the woman coyly.

The woman just makes a face. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" She crosses her arms over her chest. "Sam talked you into consulting again?"

"Today's my first day back." He takes a black flask from his jacket pocket and frowns at it. "Did I leave my flask back at Eve's bar?" He asks no one in particular.

"Your first day?" The woman prompts when Lucifer just continues to examine the strange flask he pulled out of his pocket.

"Yes, and possibly my last." With a shrug, he takes a swig from the flask, apparently choosing not care where it came from. "I only agreed to help with this one case, and then it's back to retirement for me."

Joy raises her brow skeptically. Lucifer may be reminding everyone they meet that this is just a one-time deal, but from the note of uncertainty in his voice, it sounds like he may not entirely believe it anymore.

She glances at her partner and catches a satisfied smile before he quickly hides it.

"Hmm, is that so?" Joy's pretty sure that Bella's mother heard the hesitation too. She's a little too gleeful when she suggests, "Well, if you're not consulting, I guess that means you'd be available on school days. Dom and I have been looking for someone to watch Bella…"

"You know my feelings on children, Urchin." Lucifer glares at her.

Ignoring him, the woman grins down at her daughter. "What do you think, Monkey?" She asks Bella cheerfully. "Do you want to spend your afternoons at Lucifer's penthouse from now on?"

"Yeah that sounds great!"

"How dare you?' Lucifer sputters.

Joy can't quite manage to hide her snicker.

"Oh, sorry." Bella's mother turns away from Lucifer, who has shifted to a petulant silence, to study Joy. "You must be Sam's new partner, Detective Roberts." She holds out a hand over the table. "Beatrice Estevez-you can call me Trixie. Everyone does."

Joy returns the handshake and the smile. "Call me Joy. Nice to meet you."

Trixie lays a hand on Bella's shoulder. "And I think you met my daughter, Bella?"

"Yes, I did. Nice idea on the tapes." She tells Bella warmly. "You're going to make a good detective someday."

Bella's chin shoots up. "I want to be a lawyer, like my mom." She thinks for a moment. "Or a movie star like Grandma was."

Decker makes a pained sound in the back of his throat.

Trixie's eyes dance with mischief. "Sam doesn't like to remember that before she became a detective, our mother was a child actor." She says in a stage whisper to Joy. "Ever seen Hot Tub High School?"

"I have a copy you can borrow if you haven't." Lucifer offers generously. "It's a great movie, one of my favorites-"

"We're not talking about this anymore." Decker grinds out. He takes a breath, blows it out in a gush. "Trix is my older sister-"

"Half-sister." Lucifer interrupts, though teasing his son seems to have cheered him up. He is no longer glaring at Trixie and Bella. "I won't have you sharing genes with Daniel."

"Half-sister." Decker with an exasperated glance at his father. "She's also our ADA."

"You catch the bad guys, I lock'em up." Trixie adds. Bella wraps her arms around her mother's waist.

Joy shakes her head, amused. "Does your entire family work for the L.A.P.D.?" she asks Decker.

Trixie answers for him. "You don't know the half of it. Before my mom married Lucifer, she was married to another detective-Detective Daniel Espinoza. My dad." Her gaze flicks over to Lucifer. "He's retired now, too."

"How is Daniel?" Lucifer asks. "Is he still living down in San Diego?"

"Yeah, he's doing great. Dad says he loves the vibe down there. It's very laid-back." Trixie nudges her daughter. "We're going for a visit in a few weeks, aren't we, Monkey?" She glances up at her stepfather. "I don't suppose you want to join us?"

Lucifer makes a noise that Joy interprets as a no.

"We should get back to work." Decker reminds them. He starts to rearrange the notes on the table but Trixie lays a hand on his arm.

"Actually, Sam, since you're here, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute? Privately." She adds with a meaningful look at Lucifer.

"Sure. I'll be right back. Don't let Monster solve the case while I'm gone-it will just make us look bad." Decker tells Joy. He reaches into his jacket, pulls out a silver flask, and shoves it into his father's hands. "Here, Dad. This one is yours." He gives his niece's hair a playful tug on his way out.

"Stay here, Monkey." Trixie orders, and follows Decker out into the precinct.

Joy's not sure which is more alarming-being left alone with Lucifer, or the adolescent girl who is now observing her with a predatory gleam in her eye.

"You're Uncle Sam's new partner?" Bella climbs into one of the chairs and folds her arms in front of her.

"I am." Joy says. Beside her, Lucifer is pouring the contents of the black flask into his silver one and sampling the results.

"Are you married?"

"Nope."

"Any kids?" Joy sits down across from the girl, keenly aware that Lucifer has stopped what he was doing to listen in.

"None."

"Excellent decision, Miss Roberts." Lucifer interjects. "Children are truly detestable creatures. Not nearly worth the time it takes to make one...though that part can be enjoyable." He adds as an afterthought.

"So," Joy gives Lucifer a dirty look. "What grade are you in, Bella?" Hopefully the question will remind Lucifer that there are children in the room.

But Bella hasn't appeared to notice Lucifer's lewd remark. In fact, her eyes narrow and her tone shifts from curious to bossy. "I'm asking the questions."

Joy blinks. She doesn't have any siblings or cousins so her interactions with children has always been limited, but she would have expected a kid Bella's age to be a bit more cooperative when it came to dealing with adults.

Joy leans forward. "Actually, I'm the detective here, so I'm the one who's supposed to be asking the questions." She reminds the girl, keeping her voice stern. "Deal with it."

For a few minutes, she and Bella just stare at each other. Then Bella's face breaks into a grin.

"I like you." She announces.

Joy smiles. "Thanks. I like you too." She realizes that she truly does. The girl's natural curiosity and intelligence reminds Joy a bit of herself when she was young, though she doesn't remember being as outspoken as Bella is. Joy had spent most of her life having to adapt to unfamiliar situations, meaning that she learned to blend in as opposed to standing out. It was what had made her into such a good undercover cop.

Joy eyes Lucifer sidelong. But perhaps if she had to deal with someone like Lucifer while growing up, she would have been more straightforward too.

"Has Uncle Sam invited you to our thing on Sunday?" Bella asks her brightly. "If he hasn't, he should."

"What thing on Sunday?" Then, because she can't resist, "What, do you all go to church?"

Lucifer makes a gagging sound. Joy hides a smile.

"No, not church." Bella waves her hand dismissively. "Though if you ask her, Aunt Ella would probably take you. No, we go over to Aunt Linda's every Sunday for dinner." She ticks off the names on her fingers, "Uncle Charlie, Uncle Amenadiel, Aunt Ella, Aunt Gabby, Maze, Eve, me and my mom...we do it every Sunday. It's tradition."

"That's still happening, is it?" Lucifer asks. He sounds mildly surprised.

Bella nods enthusiastically. "It was Grandma Chloe's idea." She tells Joy. "She used to invite everyone over to her house, but after…" her eyes flick over to Lucifer in alarm, and she quickly adds, "now we just have it at Aunt Linda's house."

"Charlie's mother." Lucifer informs her, though she hadn't asked. "Also, my former therapist." He holds up his hands. "I know, I know, so L.A."

"It's really fun." Bella says, ignoring him. "Everyone brings something different to eat and we play games or watch movies."

"It does sound fun." Joy agrees. "But it sounds more like a family thing."

"Speaking of family," Lucifer's eyes narrow at door Decker and Trixie exited out of. "Wasn't there a case we were supposed to be working on? What the me is taking those two so long?" Without another word, he strides out of the room.

Bella watches him go. "Uncle Lucifer hasn't been to a family dinner since Grandma Chloe died." She tells Joy sadly.

Joy's heart aches. Lucifer's been so lost in his grief he truly can't see what a toll his absence has taken on the people around him.

She reaches out and touches Bella's hand. "When you lose someone you love, it can take a while before you're ready to do fun things again." She says gently. "You just have to give him some time."

Bella gives her a tremulous smile. "At least Uncle Sam has started going again. He didn't for a long while after Uncle Lucifer left. I bet he'd like it if you were there." She adds slyly.

Joy just shakes her head, though she can't help but smile at Bella's attempt at subtlety. "Why don't we wait and see what happens?" She says.

Bella looks like she's going to argue, but a uniformed officer Joy doesn't know taps lightly at the door frame. "Detective Roberts?"

"That's me."

"There's someone here who says he has to talk to you."