Lucifer sat at the table with his truly atrocious wine, listening with interest to the nearby conversation. He'd convinced Amenadiel that, really, he should have the occasional trip topside just for the fun of it, and his brother had reluctantly agreed. Lucifer had figured that Amenadiel would likely try to use it as leverage for future trips for their father, but Lucifer had still gotten a lovely fortnight with the woman who later became Empress Theodora out of it, and several other trips besides with people who just ended up living their own lives without ending up in the history books. He had enjoyed them all, and in a variety of ways.

For this trip, he'd been in London for nearly another fortnight, and, when he'd come up for air, he'd taken the time to attend a play. There were rumors of sonnets by the playwright as well, and he'd managed to track some down from one of the man's friends. That had been enough to pique his interest, so he'd come to a pub that William Shakespeare had been known to frequent.

"It's rubbish," the dark-eyed man groaned. "I mean, really. And before you say it, Thomas, I don't need you to read it. Don't you have your own play to work on, the Spanish one?"

Thomas exhaled a sigh of his own. "With Eleazar, yes. I don't see it going anywhere any time soon, Will. But you're right. I need to at least try to work on it, and that won't be done here."

That brought a smile to Will's face. "What, you mean that to finish a play, we have to write it? Put down actual words? Somewhere other than here? Perish the thought, Thomas Dekker."

Laughing, Thomas got to his feet. "Well, you have more of a deadline than I do, but I'm the one off to try and get some work done. Still, I know it's your plays the people will be clamoring for, Will, no matter how much I put into mine."

"Come, now," Will chided him. "Henslowe's called on you more than once, and the plays have done well."

"Done well for rewrites," Thomas agreed, with a sigh. "The original work, well, he doesn't seem to want that. But I'm off. Do try to get out of your cups to put in some actual work, Will."

Will made a derisive noise and waved after Thomas's retreating back. He looked up with interest as Lucifer settled to a seat next to him, or perhaps it was the wine that Lucifer put before him that drew his attention.

"Are you a playwright, too?" Will queried. "I don't think I've seen you here before. Thanks for that," he added, with a nod for the wine.

Lucifer shook his head, taking a drink of his own wine. "No, I'm the Devil. Lucifer," he added.

His eyes glinting with amusement and perhaps a little disbelief, Will asked, "The Devil, in a pub in London? Don't you have better things to do?"

"Not at the moment," Lucifer replied, with an easy smile. "Having trouble with a play? What's it about?" He didn't read much these days, to be sure, but he knew stories; so, it seemed, did this Will.

"Well," Will replied, leaning forward in his seat. "When it starts, the main character is going home for his father's funeral."

Lucifer's smile widened. "Dead father? I like it already."


Later, back at Will's place, Lucifer sprawled on the bed, quill in hand. They had dallied with some fun of their own, of course before turning to the play. "It's not bad, really," Lucifer observed. "But I don't see why Hamlet has to think his father's ghost was sent by the Devil. That's really not my style."

"It's how things are done," Will replied lazily. "People expect it. If we could fit in a bear, that could be amusing," he added, though he didn't sound serious about the suggestion.

Lucifer shook his head. "Amusing doesn't really fit with the rest of it, though. Not that there's no humor," he added, as Will stirred. "But I don't think animal-based comedy would fit. What about the girlfriend?"

"What, turn her into a bear?" Will queried, laughing at Lucifer's exasperated look.

"That's enough wine for you," Lucifer decided, amused.

"It's not the wine," Will protested. "It's…" His words trailed off, and he glanced away, then back at Lucifer.

"What, me?" the Devil replied, a smile curving his lips. "I'm distracting you from your writing?"

"Just a bit," Will replied. "But it's not like I'm objecting. Come on, put it away. There's time."

Lucifer couldn't help but smile. "Didn't that Thomas fellow say that you had a deadline?" he teased.

"Well, yes," Will replied. "But the deadline isn't tomorrow."

Lucifer set aside the quill, turning his attention fully to Will. "All right," he said, a challenge in his eyes despite his smile. "You're the wordsmith: convince me."

"Well," Will began, his eyes resting on Lucifer. His voice teasing, he continued, "They do say the Devil hath power to assume a pleasing shape."

Lucifer reached for the quill once more, a look of triumph in his eyes. "That line is going in the play."

Will sank back against the bed once more, with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. But then Lucifer set aside both quill and pen, and turned back to Will. "Now, then. Pleasing shape, did you say?" He braced himself over the man, suggesting, "Do go on."

Smiling, Will did, though it was not words that he used.


"Why do you keep saying that you're the devil?" Will asked, much later, as he teetered on the edge of sleep.

Lucifer eased back a little, smiling. "Well, because I am. Do you really think a human could do what I just did?"

That sparked a laugh from Will. "Now that," he said, "Is an excellent point. That really was… superhuman."

"Thank you," Lucifer interjected.

"No, thank you," Will replied, with a grin. "But while you did some devilishly clever things - I mean, candle wax and cross-garters, very creative - I'm not sure why that proves you're the devil."

"It doesn't, not specifically," Lucifer agreed. "Though it was fun." Will smiled, his expression reflective, and Lucifer added, "Do you need proof? You can't just believe I am who I say I am?"

Will reached over to brush Lucifer's hair back, his hand lingering. "I just don't see how it could be true. You're anything but evil."

"And the Devil must be evil?" Lucifer asked, his tone taking on an edge. He sat up, despite Will's protests.

Will, sitting up as well, peered at Lucifer in puzzlement as he replied, "Well, yes. I mean, it is sort of inherent in his name. Devil… evil."

"Clever," Lucifer replied, a bite to his tone that suggested the opposite. "And everyone is just as they are named? You're off shaking spears? I mean, besides the obvious one," he added, with a brief glance to the salient portion of Will's anatomy.

"Not so much shaking as… well." Looking a little abashed, Will conceded, "I see your point." Still, he didn't look convinced.

Lucifer had seen that look often enough. He'd tried, with the humans that he visited, but they never believed him, and it really wasn't worth the effort. Not with time so short, and so much fun to be had. With a resigned shake of his head, he suggested, "Just keep that bit about the pleasing form."

"I'll do that," Will replied, teasing, "The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman." Clearly caught by the line, he added, "Don't think it will fit in this play, but I'll use it somewhere."

"What about the cross-garters?" Lucifer asked, his eyebrows lifting suggestively. "Surely there's a place for them in a play? Not Hamlet, but maybe another."

"Definitely," Will agreed. "Though probably not as we used them. I've an idea for the next play, though. I think it needs a shipwreck, and…" He smiled at Lucifer. "Someone who isn't what they appear to be."

Lucifer reached for the quill. "Now, now," he chided, though not without an answering smile. "Finish this one before you start the next one. Now, where were we? That old snoop is spying on Hamlet, right? You can't let him get away with that. Definitely kill him; eavesdropping is awful."

Will, laughing, shifted closer so that he could see. "You don't think it's a bit much?"

"Not at all," Lucifer replied. "I mean, it's almost as bad as killing a king and marrying his mother."

Will leaned even closer, and Lucifer smiled. "That line's going in," Will decided. "So we have to kill Polonius." He grinned up at Lucifer. "Maybe you are the Devil."

Lucifer, catching the turn the playwright's smile was taking, did not anticipate that Will would meet his deadline.


"Lucifer, wait!"

Will, breathless in his hurry, caught Lucifer just as he and Amenadiel were about to turn into a back alley, the better to depart out of sight of human eyes.

"You're telling the humans your name?" Amenadiel protested.

"Oh, far more than that," Lucifer replied, enjoying the uneasy look that his words gave his brother. Turning to greet Will, he added, "You just caught me. Don't tell me Burbage doesn't like it. He's got that speech and everything."

With a quick grin, Will replied, "Of course he does; how could he not? But I wanted to thank you for your help, and…" His eyes slid to Amenadiel, then back to Lucifer. "Your friendship."

"You are most welcome," Lucifer purred, playing it up a little just for the fun of Amenadiel's discomfiture.

Will extended a leather-wrapped bundle, and Lucifer smiled to see the sprig of rosemary tucked in its binding. "I made you a copy. I know you said you had to leave before the production, but I wanted you to have it."

"Thank you," Lucifer replied as he took the bundle. "I know it will be a hit."

Will looked as if he wanted to say more, but, with a glance to Amenadiel, he only nodded once before heading back the way be had come.

Lucifer watched him go, then turned back to Amenadiel. "Stop your judging," he chided.

Amenadiel made a rude sound and escorted Lucifer into the alley, and from there back to Hell. And while Lucifer wasn't able to steal away to see Hamlet, or even Will's later plays, he always kept his copy of Hamlet close, for remembrance.