The lightning that zagged across the sky lit the world for a moment as Lucifer stood on the unloading zone walkway, waiting for the attendant to remove Eric's coffin from the specialty cab. Neither he nor Eric had a car that could accommodate a coffin, and certainly not one that held a vampire over six feet tall. Besides, he wouldn't risk any of his cars to parking at LAX, long-term, short-term or otherwise. A taxi had been the way to go, and while Los Angeles didn't have a particularly large population of vampires, they certainly had everything from cabs to hotels to accommodate those who did live here.

The day had dawned grey, with an unusual cloud cover that not only promised thunderstorms, but was clearly delivering. Lucifer glared up at the sky, trying to will the clouds to scud by and clear up so there would be no flight delays. He was dressed impeccably in a cream-coloured linen suit, and the last thing he needed was to be caught in a downpour.

As soon as Eric's coffin had been removed from the cab and Lucifer had paid the driver, he grabbed the handle and began to trundle Eric's portable coffin, along with his single overnight bag, through the doors and into the busy terminal. He paused, pretending to struggle with the weight of the thing as a human might do, but what he was really doing was trying to figure out where the Hell he was supposed to go. He'd never actually flown with a vampire during the day before.

It was a domestic flight, so that's where he should go, right? Or was there a special place to go when the person with you was encased in metal and plastic? Huffing with impatience, he scanned the signage while he stood in the way, people moving around him and his awkwardly sized luggage. When he could find nothing suggesting what to do with your vampire companion, he made a beeline for the desk to check in on his flight, as he would if he'd been travelling lighter.

It almost felt like perhaps Dad was intervening with his life when he got into line behind a short man in a checkered shirt and realized it was Sam Merlotte from the night before. "Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Merlotte," he said politely, causing the man with the shaggy haircut to jump in surprise.

Sam turned, blue eyes fastening on the rolling coffin behind Lucifer. "Ah, generally they load the coffins with the luggage," he said helpfully.

Lucifer scoffed. "I'm not going to let them treat the Viking like an item to be tossed about," he replied. "He will stay with me until we board the plane."

Sam's lips set in a thin line, but he opted to say nothing, simply shrugged and turned back to the front of the line, although he had the decency to angle himself so as to include Lucifer.

"Travel often with vampires?" Lucifer asked, wanting to get a conversation started. Standing in silence would be torture. Especially when he had questions he wanted to ask Sam, now that Eric was asleep.

Sam shook his head though. "No. But I know enough about them."

"Funny that," Lucifer said. "For someone who seems to hate vampires, you seem to be an expert."

They moved forward, the line for domestic flights seeming to move quickly.

"I haven't had much choice," Sam grumbled. "Bill Compton walked into my bar a couple years ago and Sookie became fascinated with them. Someone had to protect her from her own idiotic tendencies."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise. The bar owner—the shifter, a thing he wanted to know more about—got himself involved with vampires solely because of this Sookie Stackhouse? What was with this woman? He'd met her; she hadn't seemed all that special that every man would fall at her feet. Cute, he supposed, if you liked the down home southern gal type.

Although . . . if the woman could read your thoughts, she could be dynamite in bed, always knowing precisely what you wanted, how to do it . . .

Lucifer was ripped from his reverie when Sam surged forward to stand at the desk, paperwork in hand. Lucifer frowned, wanting to ask the man about the waitress, but knowing he'd have to wait until they got through this step of checking in. At least he hadn't had long to wait. When the second attendant became free, he rolled the coffin forward and spent the next ten minutes arguing about whether or not he'd be letting them take Eric's coffin away from him. The resigned look on the attendant's face told him he probably wasn't the first vampiric lackey who refused to leave their master's side. And while Eric assuredly was not Lucifer's master, he just couldn't bring himself to part with the man.

He simply couldn't bear the idea of something happening to him between now and touching down in Shreveport. Eric's place was by Lucifer's side, and he was adamant that he wasn't going to be parted.

When it seemed the attendant was ready to roll her eyes all the way to the back of her head, hand hovering over the phone to undoubtedly call someone higher up, Lucifer leaned forward, catching the airline employee by surprise. He glanced downward quickly, reading the nametag before catching the woman's eyes.

"Tell me, Kayla . . . What is it you desire?"

The moment unravelled before him, Kayla's eyes glassing over as she seemed to look inward at her desires. The frustration she'd been feeling seemed to ease out of her as her thoughts strayed to innermost wishes. Seconds ticked by, the silence that much more poignant because life seemed to move on around them, the airport full of busy people completely oblivious to Lucifer pulling a woman's desires—albeit innocent ones—out right in front of them.

Foolish mortals.

A line was beginning to form behind them and they were all completely unaware of what was happening.

"I want Hank to trip and fall on his ugly face in front of everyone," Kayla said, almost breathless as she looked at Lucifer with a longing in her eyes. "I want him to feel shamed for something stupid. And I want it to happen with a real crowd."aHank

Lucifer rocked back, surprised at the admission. It was something so small, so personal. "Who is Hank?" he asked, deciding that it would probably be her ex-boyfriend.

But she surprised him again. "My boss."

"Your boss? What did he do to deserve such ill wishing?" Lucifer was intrigued, fully invested in finding out why Kayla wanted Hank to embarrass himself in front of the entire terminal. If it was a good reason, Lucifer would not only be willing to help out in order to get his own way, he'd revel in watching what played out. He loved a good revenge story by way of karma—and he was always happy to help karma if it was deserved.

"Last month, I made a mistake. A single, solitary mistake." Kayla frowned. "I can't even call it that. I was willingly overlooking someone's overweight charge because they'd just had the shittiest day, you know? Their flight the day before had been cancelled, and their replacement flight was already delayed. They had two kids and one was having a tantrum right there. You gotta keep the clients happy on occasion, you know?"

Lucifer nodded, leaning against the counter with one elbow, seeming to hang off her every word. And now that she had someone to tell the story to, it seemed Kayla was more than happy to dish. It was quite clear that this had been bothering her since it had happened.

"I wasn't thinking," Kayla admonished herself. "It was a busy afternoon and while Hank wasn't helping us get through the long line, he was monitoring us. He loves watching us in case we crack under pressure, the dick."

Lucifer huffed in affront, as if agreeing with her. "The cad," he offered.

"But what was I supposed to do?" Kayla asked. "Let another fifty dollars break them? I waived the fifty bucks and odds are they'd fly with us again because of it. But not after how Hank treated me." She frowned up at Lucifer, remembering the incident.

"What did he do?" Lucifer asked. Hank sounded like an absolute tool, middle management at its best. He would enjoy making Kayla's wish come true.

"He told me I was breaking the rules." She shook her head. "No, he didn't tell me. He announced it as loudly as he could, so the entire line of travellers could hear him. He reamed me out in front of everyone, and I don't think he could have been louder if he had a bullhorn. And it wasn't just about the fact I was waiving the overweight fee, either. He began to list off every single instance I've managed to screw up in the past three months, I think."

"Hank was on a power trip, was he?" Lucifer asked, disgust in his voice egging Kayla to continue.

Kayla nodded. "Absolutely. It was the first time he did it to me, but he's done it to all of us at one point or another. Right, Jared?" Kayla looked over at the other desk clerk and he nodded, although he looked a bit worried. Sam was standing in front of him, ticket in hand and staring at Lucifer with what looked like an accepting interest. Sam Merlotte had seen some weird shit in his time, and it seemed Lucifer's devilish skills did not phase him.

Lucifer rested his heated gaze on Jared. "Is that correct?" he asked the other clerk, willing his charm to reach the man as well. The worry never left Jared, but he nodded again. "Hank is the worst kind of micromanager."

"The kind that abuses his employees?" Lucifer asked, wanting to make sure he had the clearest of pictures. He could already see the man now—in an off-the-rack suit and a pompous air to him. There were plenty of middle management jackasses wasting away their afterlives in Hell, and for good reason.

"That's exactly what he is," Kayla said.

"Why don't you file a grievance?" Lucifer asked, eager to hear her say she couldn't.

"A fat lot that would do," Jared said.

"All it would do is make work harder for us," Kayla mourned. "He'd know we complained and he'd just treat us even worse."

Both Kayla and Jared sighed despondently.

Well, then.

Lucifer would be doing them a service, really.

"Kayla, would you be a dear and call your manager?" Lucifer asked. "I have no intention of leaving my companion in the hands of airport personnel and it's obvious you are unable to do anything for me. Hank, however . . . Well, let's just tell him I'm being irate, shall we?" He gave the woman a conspiratorial smile.

"But you're not . . ." Kayla trailed off as she realized what he was insinuating. She wanted Hank to be shamed? Well, he'd shame the man for her . . . get his way while he was at it. Perhaps not from tripping and falling, but he'd make sure a crowd was aware of what kind of man Hank was. That should be sufficient.

Kayla suddenly returned his smile. "Of course, let me speak to my manager."

She picked up the phone and dialed. Jared finished up with Sam who sidled over to stand next to Lucifer. Eric's travel coffin lay next to them on the floor, and Lucifer had zero intentions of putting it on the conveyor belt behind the desks. Kayla, it seemed, was happily on board. Unsurprising. They always were.

Jared accepted the next guest in line while Kayla begged Hank to come down. It seemed at first he had no intention of helping out, but when Lucifer raised his voice in annoyance for the manager to hear, Kayla's look of triumph told him it had worked.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked as Lucifer settled in to wait.

"Getting my way," Lucifer said, feeling smug.

"How?"

"By punishing a man for his cruelty," Lucifer said. "Win-win, I dare say."

Behind them, the line was tripled in size since he'd arrived at the desk. Everyone impatient, waiting for things to freaking move, damn it. Precisely what Lucifer needed—a captive audience who were keeping one eye on the desks in the hopes of seeing things moving.

It wasn't long before Hank was making his way down the aisle behind the airline desks, indeed in a cheap suit, complete with a tie that boasted his airline. His shoulders were squared, his expression already set in an annoyed frown. The lines on his forehead made him appear older than he was and Lucifer couldn't help but wonder why some people just grimaced so much. Didn't they know it aged them?

And couldn't the man at least pay a tailor to fit the suit to him, even if he couldn't afford designer? Next to Lucifer, the man looked like a slob. Lucifer couldn't help but straighten his own tie in fear of being lumped into the same category as the manager Hank.

Hank sidled up next to Kayla, looking over her shoulder at her screen, before folding his arms and posturing in such a way that it was impossible to not tell he was her boss. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked, looking at Lucifer and completely ignoring Kayla. The way he said it, it seemed the man assumed Kayla was screwing everything up. Siding with the customer, as it were, without even knowing what the problem was.

"Well," Lucifer huffed, pulling back from the desk to fold his own arms over his chest. If anyone was in charge here, it was him, not the blowhard on the other side of the desk. "It's about bloody time you showed up, isn't it?"

Hank's confidence didn't even waver, Lucifer had to give him that. He simply gave Lucifer a knowing look, a man's man sort of thing. "It's a large airport, sir. If I could be everywhere at once, I promise you I would."

Lucifer huffed again, but didn't budge from his closed off position. "Your employee tells me you've a policy in place that puts my companion's safety at risk, and I simply won't have it. I've told her multiple times that the companion of Lucifer Morningstar needs the utmost protection, but still she will not budge—seems she's worried she'll get in trouble." Lucifer simpered at the man. "With you."

Hank sighed insufferably. "I always try to instill a confidence in my employees, but some of them are a stickler for rules. You understand." He gave Kayla a withering look while the clerk stood there with her mouth hanging open in shocked affront. "What precisely are you looking to do?"

Lucifer gestured to the sleek, black coffin lying next to him. "I will not have my vampire friend be treated like luggage, tossed about by uncaring baggage handlers. He's not a possession, he's a person."

Hank visibly pushed Kayla from her spot in front of the computer, clicking the mouse a few times as he pretended to look at Lucifer's file. "Everything seems to be fine in the system," he said. "I can promise you that we will be taking the utmost care of him while he's being transported to the plane."

Lucifer shook his head vehemently. "You're not hearing me," he said. "I will not be leaving Mr. Northman's side until we are boarding the plane." He intentionally let his voice get louder, wanting to work the crowd behind them. He needed to be upset—otherwise half of them would be staring at their phones, not even caring that something was happening up at the desk.

What better way to gain their attention by showing that you are upset? After all, it made they were more likely to be upset when it came time for their turn at the desk to check in.

Hank puffed his chest out, trying to look confident. "Yes, well . . . I'm afraid you're asking us to break protocol." He paused, giving Lucifer an expectant look. "I can't just break protocol every time someone claims their case is special, now can I? We have rules for a reason, Mr. Morningstar, and I'd be hard pressed to break them."

It was that way, was it?

Lucifer reached for his pocket, pulling out his wallet with a big show. "How much?" he asked flippantly as he began to rifle through his bills. Money wasn't an issue for him, and he also saw this as a quick way to get Kayla precisely what she desired. This was too easy.

"To let you wheel your dead friend through the airport?" Hank asked, his eyes twinkling with the realization that he was going to make an easy transaction with Lucifer. "A thousand."

"A thousand?" Lucifer asked, looking up in surprise from his wallet. "A thousand dollars so I can do all the work?"

"You want me to break the law?" Hank countered. "I'm about to let you carry a dead body through an airport. Do you know how many health violations that is? A thousand bucks seems like a small price, considering I could lose my job."

"A thousand dollars and you'll break the law for me," Lucifer mused as he began counting out bills. It wasn't that he couldn't afford the price tag Hank had decided upon—he certainly could. But it truly was a steep price for a bribe, especially for one that required Hank to do absolutely nothing at all except click a few things on that fancy computer. ""He's not dead, thank you. Simply allergic to the sun."

Hank was waiting, a look of eager expectation on his face as Lucifer pulled out the needed bills and pocketed his wallet. But before he handed the wad of cash over he gave Hank a glowering look and then turned to face the other commuters waiting dutifully in line behind him.

It wasn't just a handful of people anymore. He was glad to see most of them weren't even on the phone. Getting their attention was just as simple as speaking to them.

Easiest deal he'd ever made.

"My fellow travellers," Lucifer announced, holding his hands up and feeling his dress shirt tug to become loose from his pants. He lowered a single hand to unbutton his suit jacket, but kept the other in the air—the one filled with money. It wouldn't do to look a mess when he was busy putting Hank the middle manager in his place. "I would like to announce that Hank, our airline's wonderful manager, is willing to accept bribes!"

He waved his money for everyone to see. "Want to bypass security? Skip the line when boarding? Speak with Hank; I promise it will be worth the money." He looked back to see the stricken look on Kayla's face and the boiling anger on Hank's. Ah yes, this was fun.

He looked back at the other passengers, people beginning to talk to each other. Yes, yes. It would certainly get around. This was exactly what he needed—regardless of how he got it, he was going to be able to bring Eric with him when he left this check-in counter. "But you must speak with Hank. The regular clerks will not be able to help. In fact, if he catches them giving you special treatment, you can be assured he will be using his heavy hand of management to scold them for helping a weary traveller out. And he'll do it in front of you. Better to speak directly to him."

His little announcement did exactly what he wanted. He watched the people turn to each other, and low conversations began. Undoubtedly some would be angry, but others might look forward to skirting around a few issues, just as he was. Regardless of the morality of the situation, he'd gotten the buzz started. Hank was famous. Someone just might make a complaint to head office. This was perfect, precisely what Hank needed to be brought down a notch or two.

He turned back to the desk, smiling wide.

Sam Merlotte was standing to the side, slack jawed, no doubt in awe of Lucifer's skills at fixing things for Kayla and her coworkers.

He slapped the money down on the desk. "Now, will you ensure that I am able to bring my companion with me to the gate?"

Hank stared at him, face red with both shame and anger. Shame at having his less ethical flapping in the wind and anger that Lucifer had done it. "What is your problem?" he asked, but Lucifer noticed the money was staying on the desk.

Lucifer looked down at it then back up at Hank. "Letting everyone know there's a price for anything at this desk while you're here, of course. Why make only a thousand dollars when you could be making plenty more?" He leaned in closer, "After all, why let your employees do it for free when you could have your hand in it, no?"

Hank's cheeks flamed. Finally, Lucifer was getting somewhere. "I think you need to leave, Mr. Morningstar," Hank said. His gaze flicked to the crowd behind Lucifer, and Lucifer knew he'd done what he'd needed to—given away how dirty an employee Hank was. If Lucifer had to guess, Hank probably had a stellar reputation with upper management. Perhaps no longer. And wasn't that just perfect?

"I don't think I will, Hank." Lucifer pushed the bills across the desk toward him. "You take my money, you give me special permission to bring my friend's coffin through the airport, and I don't call your boss to let them know you're not just accepting bribes, but specifically looking for them. We can leave out how you treat your employees for now, but I promise you there is most definitely a special place in Hell for managers such as yourself." Lucifer straightened, tugging on his suit jacket and giving the man a winning smile. "And I should know. I am the devil, after all."

He could see the man calculating the risk of tossing Lucifer out of the airport—and subsequently off the flight he'd already paid to be on. "Are we going to continue this dance of who has the bigger balls or shall we just move on?" Lucifer asked. He backed up a step. "I could continue discussing with my fellow citizens?"

An awkward silence stretched out in which Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. When it seemed Hank was still stewing, Lucifer reached into a pocket to draw out his phone. "Or, as I said, I could call someone above your paygrade. Sort out the fact that you happily break the rules if money is involved."

A moment later the money disappeared into Hank's pocket. He was still pissed, Lucifer could see. It seemed Hank didn't like to be outed in front of a crowd, and especially not in front of his employees, if the seething looks sent Kayla's way was any indication. Lucifer knew that as soon as he was gone, Hank was undoubtedly going to take his anger and shame out on Kayla and Jared.

Hank did a few things on the computer and something began to print. A moment later it was shoved in front of him and Lucifer picked it up to look over his special pass to let him roll Eric through the airport. It seemed letting him take Eric through security and the terminal was indeed not illegal. He'd spent a thousand dollars for nothing—well, not true. He'd spent a thousand dollars to ease his worries.

Hank, though, was full of shit.

Lucifer folded the paper and slid it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he said, inclining his head for a second. He bent down and grabbed the handle on Eric's coffin, lifting it back up with ease. But before he left, he leaned forward one last time. "If I so much as hear that you said a single bad word to your employees after I leave, I will have your hide." He let his own anger come forth, knowing it would leave an impression on the man as his eyes seemed to light up red all on their own. He laid the devilish charm on thick to make his point.

Hank blanched, going from peeved manager to terrified boy in a heartbeat. Lucifer heard Kayla gasp from behind him, but ignored her to focus his devilish energy on the man that had been causing her grief. "Stop belittling your staff when all they're trying to do is help us get to our destinations. And in front of the public? Really, Hank?" He gave a bit of a sneer. "How did it feel? Did you enjoy it?"

"N—No . . ." Hank trailed off, unable to say anything more.

"I didn't think so," Lucifer replied with a tiny huff. "Try to show them the same respect you give yourself, yes?"

He pulled back finally, turning to Sam to give him an encouraging smile. "Come, we've still got plenty to do before we board the plane, yes?"

Sam looked at him with a mix of emotions on his face. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked.

"Haven't you been listening?" Lucifer asked, as he began to lead the way toward security. "I'm the devil, Shifter. And it will do you well to remember that."