It wasn't until late the following morning that Lucifer woke up. Mar's father had run off on a supply run not ten minutes before Lucifer padded his way into the living room where Mar was seated on the couch. He stopped at the edge of couch, Mar noticing him from the corner of her eye. Setting her glass of water on the table she turned to look up at him, offering a smile.

"Well look who's walking," She added a slight laugh to her tone, gesturing for him to sit next to her. He took his seat silently keeping his eyes on her.

"It seems My grace is healing rather well. I don't think I'll be around long enough for any concern." His voice was blunt and could have been mistaken for bitter.

"Oh you heard that," Mar stated with a hint of-not embarrassment but of displeasure-in her voice.

"Kind of hard not to,love," He offered a smirk which was returned with a conceding raise of the eyebrow.

"Sorry, what do you mean your grace is healing?" The question came from a place of sheer curiosity in her mind. Mar was almost a bit disturbed at the fact that she wasn't disturbed. She knew she was sitting next to an Archangel, Lucifer at that, and yet she was calm, questioning him like any other person-human-she had come across.

"My grace, It's an angels' being, like their soul," His eyes still trailed over Mar's face as he explained. Mar paused for a moment staring downward before moving to sit upright and cross legged on the couch.

"Ok, not to pester you with questions but given that you told me yesterday you were an Archangel and I found you nearly dead in a warehouse I would like to know what's going on. What happened to you? Why are you here?" She tried to speak slowly but the questions poured out of her with her train of thought.

"Well it seems my father has decided a little break from my punishment may help me reconcile with his precious creatures," He paused to tap his finger against his chin, "My drained grace to keep me in place I assume, clever." He spoke as if he was talking to himself rather than answering her question. Another period of silence passed between them. Mar, again found herself with nothing to say. He was fascinating to her especially the way he spoke, confident and slightly snarky but with a hint of something that she concluded was not human.

"Punishment?"

"Hmm?" He looked back at her as if he had forgotten she was there.

"Punishment, you said your father was giving you a break from your punishment. What did you do?" She clarified her statement studying his face now just as intently as he was hers.

"Ah, but the 'Devil's' evils are well known aren't they? Sin, death, illness, your missing car keys."

"That's what you are?"

"Do you assume it isn't?" Mar only returned his question with a strug. To be honest she wasn't sure what he was. She knew the stories well, growing up in church for the majority of her youth, but somehow she doubted they held the truth-or the whole truth-about the man who sat next to her. The usual preconceptions of red horns and cloven hooves refused to seep into her mind. Lucifer, with a hint of a pleasant surprise, seemed to pick up on this.

"God cast me down. He cast me down because I loved him too much. I refused to bow to his beloved new creatures, to love them more than him and for that he had my brother, Michael, cast me into hell, locked in a cage. That's my story. That's what I've done. Now, tell me does the punishment fit the crime?" A genuine compassion dripped from his words. Mar opened her mouth to reply but was cut short by the sound of the kitchen door and rustle of plastic bags. Her father walked in with two bags on one arm and three on the other.

"Jeez, need help?" Mar laughed walking up to him. He set them down in the kitchen before turning to her.

"There's two more in the car. You can get them." His eyes then fell to Lucifer, who was still seated on the couch. There, his eyes remained tilled with an awkward nod and clearing of the throat he turned his attention back to the groceries. Mar grabbed the remaining bags, shutting the trunk, and hauling ass back inside. Putting them with the others she saw Lucifer make his way over from the couch.

"Ahh, there's daddy," He addressed her father with a smirk , stopping just feet from him. Mar was slightly taken aback, holding in a chuckle at her father's bewildered and angered expression. His anger seemed to be repressed by a sheer confusion at the situation as he simply corrected him with a gruff "Jack" before walking back to his room. Allowing herself to laugh lightly, Mar unpacked the bags, placing the cold stuff in the fridge and not bothering with the rest. Lucifer had taken a place on a bar stool, leaning forward with his head propped on both fists.

"I don't think he likes me," he stated with a hidden amusement in his voice. Mar only returned an agreeing smirk.

"So, you sleep then. Do you eat with this whole grace thing?"

"No."

"Shame," she said turning from the fridge, "I make some mean chicken salad." Mar added with a jokingly smug tone.

"You'll have the molecules to yourself then."

"Fine, I'll enjoy my molecules."

Jack had remained in the back room for the remainder of the day. Lucifer had retreated to the guest room for a while as well, leaving Mar to eat and clean her gun. He now stood leaning on the bar once more as Mar begrudgingly put the remainder of the groceries away.
"The answer's no, by the way." Mar broke the silence whilst reaching up to place a box of cookies on the pantry shelf.

"Excuse me?" Lucifer looked up questioningly.

"You asked me earlier if the punishment fit the crime. My answer is no, it doesn't."