Ella Lopez was pissed.
The precinct was quiet most days. Not the still, harrowing quiet of death (she had hung around Rae-Rae long enough to know that she could never work in a place like that; otherwise, she would've just gotten a job at the Detroit morgue like her mother wanted. Better dental plan and all that). But a quiet that was mundane, routine, expected.
She was dying for some non-lunch-break conversation every now and then, she wasn't gonna lie, but her stack of late 80's rap music made the solitary lab work at least somewhat bearable. Lucifer, too, on the days he would pop in for ten minutes at a time before getting bored and wandering off to annoy Chloe.
In short, nothing interesting ever happened around here, no matter how much she wanted it to. The crime scenes, the high-speed chases, the undercover work; you could only find those things out in the field. Never inside the precinct.
So of course, the one time something even remotely exciting came up in that building, she just had to be outside taking a damn phone call from her idiot brother.
(Nevermind that his reason was valid – apparently, he'd gotten on the bad side of another loan shark. She would give absolutely anything just to see Abuelita rise from the grave and chase Ricardo around with a chancla like she used to).
"-you can't just let her do things like this. If she were my kid, she would've been grounded as soon as she entered that room."
"Well, lucky for her, Daniel, she isn't. So you can take those douchey little opinions that no one asked for, and shove them up your-"
"What the hell, you guys?"
All eyes shifted to Ella as she marched up to them, phone still clutched tightly in hand. Dan and Lucifer quickly broke off their argument, but judging from the heated glares they kept throwing at each other, they obviously weren't done. Chloe just rolled her eyes at them and rested a hip against the edge of her desk.
Ella threw her arms up. "I step out for like, twenty minutes, and next thing I know, some psycho teenager's already locked herself in with a murder suspect!" She gaped at them incredulously. "Twenty minutes!"
The club owner exchanged a look with the two detectives. Ella tapped her foot insistently, waiting for one of them to speak up.
"He's not a suspect anymore, if that's what you're worried about," Lucifer offered idly.
The forensic scientist stilled. "Woah. Did he die, or…?"
"God, no!" Chloe's eyes widened. "No. Nothing like that."
Lucifer made another dry remark about dragging his dad into things, but Ella was too busy sighing in relief to listen. It was hard not to imagine the worst when she first stepped off the elevator to see a few officers holding ice packs to their backs, others staring blankly at the interrogation room door as if they forgot how those things worked.
It left the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Unconsciously, her mind wandered back to an old neighbor they used to have, a Mrs. Laveau who seemed to leave everyone in a similar kind of daze wherever she went. Ella liked her; she wore cool head wraps and never looked at her funny for talking about ghosts (well, one ghost). Her mother, unfortunately, was never too fond of Mrs. Laveau.
It was the first time she'd ever heard someone use the word bruja.
"Well," Ella sighed. "It still sucks that I missed all of it. I would've picked that lock in under a minute, you know. You guys didn't have to run around like a bunch of headless chickens."
Dan crossed his arms. "Trust me, you were better off outside. It was complete chaos in here."
"Yes, and that's coming from headless chicken number one," Lucifer said snidely.
"Alright, that's it." Dan drew himself up, looking perfectly ready to pick a fight. "I have had enough-"
"Stop!"
Their heads snapped to her so quickly it was almost funny. That seemed to be the knee-jerk reaction to hearing the bright and bubbly Ella Lopez raise her voice. Which she always found somewhat strange, honestly. It was like people kept forgetting she grew up with four brothers.
"Seriously, just stop." She smoothed a hand against her forehead. "Jeez. It's like I'm dealing with children."
"Welcome to my world," Chloe muttered under her breath.
"Speaking of children by the way," Ella ploughed on. "Will someone please tell me what happened to that kid? I mean, everyone I ask just keeps going on and on about how the kid is not okay, but on the other hand, she's also completely fine, apparently?" The forensic scientist squinted. "What's that even supposed to mean?"
Peralta said the same thing. A couple of the other guys, too. Talking about the sixteen-year-old seemed to give them genuine war flashbacks, which might have just been the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard from a bunch of grown men. And she used to do group therapy!
"It means-" a new voice joined the conversation. Ella was just about to look for the source when Chloe's desk chair swiveled around, revealing a teenager dressed in red who'd probably been sitting there the whole time. It was easy to miss her with Lucifer's figure blocking her from view (like he was protecting her in a way, but from what, Ella didn't know). "-the kid's doing great, thanks." She smiled, tight and scathing and somehow familiar. From where exactly, it was difficult to place. "And she'd like the adults to stop talking about her like she isn't in the room."
Ella felt her cheeks burn. She should've been more careful before running her mouth.
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea-"
The girl held up a hand. "It's okay." She narrowed her eyes at Dan and Lucifer. "I wasn't talking about you anyway."
From the way the two were squabbling earlier, they were probably arguing about the kid (in direct earshot of her, no less) long before Ella came marching in. Dan, at least, had the decency to stare shamefully at the ground. Lucifer just dug his flask out of his jacket pocket and took a long swig.
"Put that away. You know there's no drinking in the precinct." Chloe chided through gritted teeth.
It was a weird thing to say, considering that the whole LAPD was so used to Lucifer's day drinking at that point that it would've honestly been weirder if he didn't drink. But Ella knew what the detective actually meant. She was just too sensible to say it out loud.
No drinking in front of children.
The club owner apparently picked up on it, too, because he immediately jerked his head in the teenager's direction. "What? You think she minds?" He laughed. "Hate to break it to you detective, but if she can do whatever she damn well pleases, so can I. Where do you think she gets it from, hmm?" Then he tipped back the flask a second time as if to prove his point.
Before tensions could rise any further and she had to stop not just one, but two detectives from throttling Lucifer where he stood (wouldn't be the first time, would it?), Ella quickly stepped forward and stuck out a hand to the girl who was openly rolling her dark brown eyes from the desk chair.
"I'm Ella Lopez, by the way. I probably should've led with that earlier, but, you know…" She let out a sheepish laugh. "I kinda didn't see you there. Sorry about that. Again. You can just call me Ella."
The teenager's grip was surprisingly firm.
"Sabrina Spe-" She paused, catching herself. "Morningstar. Sabrina Morningstar."
It took Ella about half a second to make the connection. She looked from Lucifer, to Sabrina, to Lucifer again. "Niece?" she tried.
He let out a scoff at that. "As if any of my holier-than-thou siblings would actually be bold enough to break our Father's rules."
The scientist felt her forehead crease. Rules? What rules? She was just about to ask when Sabrina jumped in and filled the blanks for her.
"Daughter," she supplied, looking as though they were playing a card game and she'd just been dealt a very bad hand. "Unfortunately."
Ella's mouth dropped open. "No way."
Except, yes. Yes way.
That smile. Those eyes. The way Lucifer was acting all weird and protective. It shouldn't have taken her this long to connect the dots.
(Besides, the precinct had a long-standing bet on whether or not the club owner had any secret children running around Los Angeles. Ella always thought the answer was obvious. As soon as she heard about the stakes, the casino shark in her tallied up the odds and went all in. Now she was pretty sure she just won 300 dollars).
Ella rushed forward and wrapped the teenager in a tight hug. "I can't believe it, a mini Morningstar!"
Sabrina stumbled a bit when the scientist suddenly latched onto her like a t-shirt clad leech, but to her credit, didn't shove her away on contact like Charlotte Richards and hell, even Lucifer, used to do. She just stood there helplessly for a few good seconds, arms plastered awkwardly to her sides.
"Yeah, hard pass on that one," the girl winced, trying (and failing) to wriggle out of Ella's grasp as politely as she could. Eventually she just kind of gave up. "I think I prefer Psycho Teenager a lot more."
"I don't know, darling. I think mini Morningstar has a rather nice ring to it," Lucifer said amusedly.
Sabrina rolled her eyes at him. "It doesn't even make any sense. I look nothing like you!"
It was true. Without her heels, she was probably five foot nothing, with a pretty alabaster complexion and platinum white curls that stopped just right under her chin. Save for those eyes and that little devious smile, she couldn't look less like her father if she tried.
"That's right," Lucifer sighed. "You're the spitting image of your mum, aren't you?"
"Huh. And here I thought you already forgot what she looked like."
The air around them suddenly turned heavy. Chloe pretended to be busy with a folder and Dan picked on some loose lint on his jacket. It felt like they were intruding on something private. Ella didn't even know about Sabrina half an hour ago, let alone who her mother was or why Lucifer looked like he'd just been slapped across the face.
For a second or two, remorse flickered in Sabrina's brown eyes, and it almost looked like she'd take it back, everything she said, but the moment passed too soon and it was gone.
Ella finally had the good sense to let the teenager go.
"So…" she trailed off awkwardly, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else but here. Like a crime scene, maybe. A nice, bloody crime scene where the victims couldn't talk, much less stir deep-rooted family drama with offhand comments.
(Now that she thought about it, she probably wouldn't be too mad if Ricardo decided to call again out of the blue).
Her eyes roamed all over the place, looking for something, anything, to talk about. Somehow, all her brain could think to spout out were just more questions about Sabrina's mother, and even she wasn't crazy enough to circle back to that conversation. (Nu uh. No, thank you).
Eventually, her gaze landed on a simple black book sitting on Chloe's office chair. It was nondescript enough with subtle red trimming and a fairly-sized crucifix printed on the cover. She even recognized some of the Latin text on the spine from the missalettes they handed out in Church. Finally, something she knew. The Big Guy really was looking out for her.
"Hey, what are the odds?" Ella grinned, picking up the book. Chloe wasn't much for religion, so she figured the teenager must've brought this herself. She held up the tiny gold cross hanging from her neck. "I'm a Christian, too! Badass Bible, by the way. Where'd you get it?"
It took Sabrina a few beats to answer. She even looked warily at her dad, like she didn't know what to say, and suddenly, it was like all tension melted between them and he gave a reassuring nod back.
"Um…school." The teenager said slowly. "Everyone's issued one of those."
"Cool, you go to one of those fancy private places, then?"
It was ridiculous that she even had to ask. With Lucifer's bottomless supply of cash, he probably sent her to one of those high-end Swiss boarding schools where all the Fortune 500 kids went.
Sabrina chewed anxiously on her bottom lip. "Not exactly." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "You're holding it wrong, by the way."
"Holding what wrong?" Ella asked.
"The book. You have it upside down."
The scientist glanced at the Bible in her hands. Sure enough, Sabrina was right. The opening was in the wrong direction, and the silky black page marker stuck out of the top instead of the bottom.
Ella chuckled in embarrassment. "Oh, my bad. I must've been too distracted to…oh."
When she turned it over, the plain red crucifix on the cover was clearly inverted. St. Peter's cross, she told herself. Except it wasn't. All the hairs standing on the back of her neck knew it wasn't.
She swallowed thickly.
"Maybe we should go," Sabrina said unsurely, glancing at the door.
"No, no. It's fine!" Ella backpedaled. "Seriously. I was just…surprised. That's all."
She didn't have a problem with other religions. Really, she didn't. Over the years, she'd made friends with Jews and Mormons and atheists, and she'd always respected their right to believe (or not believe) in something as much as she did.
Satanism, though? She didn't know what kind of effed-up school Lucifer was paying for, but if their idea of education was assigning this to their reading list, then his kid needed to transfer somewhere else. Like, right now.
"If it makes any difference, I was a Catholic too, at some point." Sabrina offered. "Until I…shifted."
"Shifted?" Chloe pried the book from Ella's suddenly-clammy fingers and took one long look at the cover. "Wait a minute. Are you telling us that you're a Satanist?"
"Used to be," the teenager said defensively. She plucked the not-a-Bible out of the detective's hands and shoved it back into her messenger bag. "I'm kind of between Churches at the moment. Not that it matters. I mean, they're all just the same bullshit propaganda."
Dan rolled his eyes (It was fairly easy to forget that the guy was religious, too). "What, your dad told you that?"
Lucifer, as expected, looked perfectly geared up to respond with something clever and dipped in sarcasm, but before he could even open his mouth, Sabrina beat him to it.
"He doesn't have to tell me anything. I know a sham when I see it." Then, as if suddenly remembering, "No offense, Ella."
The scientist blinked a few times. "Uh, none taken, I guess?"
"Look, you guys are free to believe whatever you want to believe. 'Do what thou wilt' and all that." Sabrina held up her hands. "But as far as I'm concerned, all religion's just different versions of the same lie, and I'm not falling for it twice."
Hot damn, Ella thought. This might just be the most cynical kid she's ever met.
The teenager glanced at the clock on the wall. "Anyway, this is probably the longest I've ever stayed in a police station." Her eyes found her dad's. "We're pretty much done here, right?"
"Well, we're not sticking around for the paperwork, if that's what you're thinking," Lucifer said. He got up from his perch on one of the desks and straightened his jacket. "Best leave all that to Detective Douche. He seems to be the expert in all things dull and nauseating."
"Seriously, man, I swear to God-"
"Okay, I think this is our cue to leave." Sabrina raised her brows. She looked up at Lucifer while tugging on the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we stop by the penthouse first before heading to the beach? I forgot to leave Salem some lunch."
"I don't see why you pander to that little beast so much. No demon ever died of starvation you, know."
Ella's eyes widened marginally at that, but then she remembered that this was Lucifer, the most dedicated method actor she'd ever met. He had a tendency to let demons and angels and other obscure religious references seep into casual conversation. Even Sabrina seemed perfectly unfazed by it.
The teenager crossed her arms. "Well, if you're not gonna take me, I may as well just go there myself-"
"Fine, fine." Lucifer sighed. From the corner of her eye, Ella could see Dan and Chloe exchange an impressed look. It was easy to understand why. The club owner had never broken this quickly before. "I'll give one of the bartenders a call, have them bring some leftover food up to that blasted feline. Happy now, hellspawn?"
"Maybe," Sabrina grinned.
Lucifer just shook his head and walked off, grumbling under his breath as he dug the phone out of his pocket. Eventually, the forensic scientist was the only one left alone with Sabrina when the two detectives excused themselves to get started on the paperwork.
Ella nudged the teenager lightly.
"Got him wrapped around your finger, huh?" She teased, nodding approvingly. "I wish my dad were more like that. Papa's about as sweet as the Carajillo he drinks in the morning."
Sabrina scoffed. "Trust me, mine's not sweet. Just trying to make up for a lot of things."
"Why? You two been fighting lately?"
It wasn't that hard to imagine. When she was Sabrina's age, Ella used to get in a riff with almost everyone back home. Her mother blamed it on the raging hormones. She blamed it on the four dunderhead brothers who kept hogging the bathroom.
The teenager looked off to the side. "Sure. Something like that."
"Wanna talk about it?"
Sabrina shook her head, lips pulling tight into a polite smile. "Not really, no."
Ella nodded in understanding. She could respect that.
"But thank you, though," the teenager quickly added.
It was quiet for a while after that as the forensic scientist struggled to change the topic for what must've been the second time that day. She normally didn't have a problem striking up a conversation (and really, just talking in general), but she found herself trying to be extra careful this time around. All her previous attempts weren't particularly glowing.
"So the beach, huh?" Ella finally decided. The ocean was about as harmless as she could go, right? "That must be pretty exciting."
Sabrina shrugged. "I guess so. Lucifer seems to look forward to it. He made me pack a ton of sunscreen before leaving the house."
The scientist was about to agree, go in a little rant, even, about the importance of SPF, but then the rest of Sabrina's answer caught up with her like a looped-back tape and she suddenly paused.
Lucifer? She thought. Why not just call him dad?
Ella wanted to ask more about it (and by that, she meant her curiosity would slowly start to consume her until sleep became damn near impossible), but the question officially crossed into "touchy subject territory" and she told herself she wouldn't get into that. For the time being, it was better to push it out of her mind.
"And you don't? Look forward to it, I mean."
The teenager hummed. "Not as much." Her fingers absently worked at the metal clasp of her bag, locking and unlocking in a haphazard pattern. "I still think there are better places to be."
"Really? Better than a cool beach in L.A. heat?" Ella shot her an unconvinced look. "Where else would you want to be?"
"Home."
The answer was so simple, but it must've meant a lot to Sabrina because she suddenly had her eyes fluttered shut. She took a deep breath, the soul-filling kind, and Ella could tell she was trying to imagine it, the scent, the feeling. "Hugging my boyfriend. Drinking tea with my aunts. Setting the table for a round of chess with my cousin."
It left the scientist reeling with nostalgia for something she didn't know. She had a big family too, but the way Sabrina talked about it, the teenager sounded like hers was just a distant memory.
Ella added that to her growing list of things not to ask about.
"That sounds nice," she said instead.
When Sabrina opened her eyes again, they looked glassy. "Yeah. It is." Then, as if suddenly remembering where she was, she inhaled once and a brittle smile was back on her face. "But I'm probably just being oversentimental. I'm sure the beach is great, too."
Outside, storm clouds were beginning to gather in heavy clusters of grey. It had been overcast all morning, but the weather reports all held out hope that the skies would clear before noon. Now it was nearing lunch break and the sun seemed to be nowhere in sight.
Almost as if on cue, a loud peal of thunder rolled through the air.
"I don't know," the scientist said, frowning out the window. "Might have to give a rain check on that one."
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't you just hear that thunder?" Ella asked, turning to the girl. "The downpour's gonna be abysmal."
Sabrina cocked her head to the side. "What downpour?"
"The rain! It's literally about to-"
She found her throat suddenly dry when she followed the teenager's gaze and lost all words. Outside the very same window, the skies had brightened to a clear blue, dotted with the fluffiest white clouds and birds singing midflight.
"What the…" Ella rubbed at her eyes. "No, no, that's not right. It's meteorologically impossible-"
"Nothing's impossible." Sabrina cut in, a knowing smirk that looked eerily like her father's on her face. "You're a woman of faith. Out of the two of us, you should be the one who believes in miracles, right?"
"I mean, yeah, but…" the scientist gestured vaguely around them. How could she put into words, exactly, that none of this felt like a miracle? That, instead, it felt too much like her childhood, with Mrs. Laveau letting her skip rope in her eternally-green lawn because the old lady somehow managed to keep it dry after a thunderstorm?
Thankfully, Lucifer chose that exact moment to come strolling back, because Ella wasn't too sure if she had enough brainpower to explain all that without being called cuckoo again.
"I hope you're satisfied, hellspawn." Lucifer said, eyeing his daughter. "All the leftover food from Lux's dinner crowd last night was already thrown out, so the kitchen staff had to sear fresh salmon for your infernal feline."
Sabrina raised her shoulders. "Salem usually prefers tuna…"
"But instead, he's getting a fifty-dollar cut of prime seafood, and a whole penthouse to himself." The club owner said dryly. "You're absolutely right. How horrible this must be for him."
The teenager scoffed. "Whatever. Just don't go acting all surprised when he scratches up your couch because you fed him the wrong fish."
Lucifer actually seemed to pause at that, and for a few seconds, Ella could see his fingers hovering over his pocket, no doubt thinking about giving the bartenders another call. She couldn't blame him. His furniture was probably expensive as hell.
Not a moment too soon, though, he shook his head and dropped his hand completely.
"Well, that bloody little hellion can destroy as many Italian leather sofas as he wants. I promised my daughter a beach day, and she's getting one right now. No more distractions."
To prove his point, he even pulled out his phone in front of them and turned it off. "There. Let the beaching begin."
"I'm pretty sure no one says that."
"Well, I just did, witchling." Lucifer grinned. "Deal with it."
Sabrina rolled her eyes, but it was hard to miss the way she was fighting back a smile. She just hid it behind a discreet little cough and turned to Ella.
"Thanks for being really nice," the teenager said. She pointed out the window. "You should catch a bit of sun later when you have the time. Wouldn't want to waste a perfectly good miracle, right?"
"I thought you didn't believe in all that?"
Sabrina stared thoughtfully at her. "I believe in good things when I see them." Just then, she caught Lucifer tapping at his watch from the corner of her eye and sighed out loud. "I guess that's my incessantly annoying cue to go. Take care of yourself, Ella."
The scientist smiled. "You too, kiddo."
All the way out the door, the club owner talked overexcitedly about catching a Dutch stroopwafel food truck, something that Sabrina was both unaware of and apparently had no interest in, since her eyes kept rolling to the back of her head in sheer exasperation. Ella wondered how long she could keep that up until they literally fell out of their sockets. Abuelita always warned her about that when she was younger.
Weirdly enough, as soon as the pair was gone, Ella could feel the hairs on the back of her neck go down. Even the air seemed different in a way, like an invisible weight was lifted and carried out of the room.
Somehow, her mind wandered back to the thunderstorm, and her mother, and that one awful word she only ever used on Mrs. Laveau.
She'd seen stranger things than miracles, that's for sure.