Lucifer's attention was riveted to the tiny screen in front of him, a tiny Temperence Brennan and Seeley Booth solving a mystery to his delighted entertainment. He'd only recently discovered the show, but he'd watched all twelve seasons in one torturously long sitting. And he'd been hooked ever since. After he'd exhausted conversation with Sam Merlotte, he'd been ecstatic to find the show listed in the on-flight entertainment, spending the last couple hours watching the show while intermittently looking out the window at the grey world below them.

The cloud cover that had blanketed Los Angeles never disappeared, the world below the plane an overcast landscape of grey clouds that seemed to go on forever—or at least halfway across the continent. Sam hadn't seemed to care, but it concerned Lucifer. Still, it wasn't like he could do anything about the weather. It wasn't exactly his expertise among his brothers and sisters. So he'd settled down and watched a few of his favourite episodes of Bones.

The screen in front of him flickered for a second and then suddenly his episode cut out. Lucifer frowned in annoyance but then his earbuds crackled too and he leaned back, waiting to hear what the pilot had to say. Trays were to be closed, seats in their upright positions, as they began to descend into Shreveport. Prepare for a bumpy ride, as they expected a fair share of turbulence once they descended into the cloud cover, but rest assured, they would get to their destination in one piece.

Sam shifted in his seat next to Sam, the man taking a strained nap. Lucifer pulled a single earbud out to hear the man whimper like a dog in his sleep, but otherwise nothing weird happened. The little screen flashed back to his episode of Bones and he went back to being engrossed in his favourite mystery serial.

The descent wasn't nearly as turbulent as warned and they were soon on the ground, taxiing through a dark grey evening. The sun hadn't quite set, but it would before he and Sam were out of the airport and on the road. Sam woke when the plane came out of the clouds into the gloomy northern Louisiana evening, and he had been sitting next to Lucifer silently all the way to the gate.

Once the plane had stopped, Sam unbuckled and sprang to his feet, clearly eager to get out of the plane. The smaller man reached up to the overhead bins and pulled down both of their carry-ons. Lucifer watched him as the shifter showed his impatience in having to wait. Was it his worry for his waitress or was it because Sam had had enough of sitting beside Lucifer?

Lucifer had initially done his best to keep up a flowing conversation with the man—asking all sorts of questions about Sam, about his bar, about Bon Temps, and even about Sookie. Eventually, it had become painfully obvious that the shifter just didn't want to talk to him anymore. That's when he'd turned to the in-flight entertainment and the wonder that was Temperence Brennan.

Sam wouldn't be the first person who found putting up with the devil exhausting. He was a lot to handle—and there were days when it was very apparent to Lucifer. He hated those days.

As soon as the flight attendant opened the door, Sam was rushing out. Lucifer, on the other hand, was a bit more patient. Besides, he had to wait for them to bring up Eric's coffin before he headed up the jetway and into the airport proper. He stood, straightened his suit, grabbed his carry-on handle. Looked at his seat to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Took a peek toward coach, wondering how the flight had been in such tight confines. And then finally moved to exit the plane, thanking the flight attendants and even the pilot as he stepped out into the jetway to stand next to the door that opened out onto rickety stairs down to the tarmac.

Sam had disappeared up the jetway and Lucifer watched as the other travellers began to file out of the plane. Despite what felt like a long wait, people were still exiting when Eric's familiar black coffin was finally delivered to him and he grabbed the handle to drag Eric up and into the small airport. He supposed it wasn't too small, all things considering. But compared to Los Angeles, it barely even registered as worthy of being called an airport.

Still, it was shiny and new looking, with polished floors and high, windowed ceilings that showed Lucifer not stars, but a dark grey that was almost black. The minutes were ticking by before Eric would be climbing out of the coffin and taking control of the situation. He couldn't wait for that. To be in the presence of someone who enjoyed Lucifer for who he was. It was rare, and it would do Lucifer well to remember that.

He finally caught up to Sam in the main lobby of the airport, the man standing by the doors that led out into the dark night. When Lucifer stopped in the middle of the expansive floor to get his bearings, Sam finally gave up his impatient stance by the exit and crossed to meet him. "We can put Eric's coffin in the bed of my truck," he said, but he didn't sound particularly keen on the idea.

And if Sam didn't like the idea, Lucifer abhorred it. "I will not leave him in the flatbed of a truck, to be bounced around willy-nilly," he replied with affront, as he scanned the airport. He saw precisely what he was looking for and began to wheel Eric's coffin toward the wall of car rental kiosks. The mundane names were lined up in a row, but he recognized a specialty rental line and there was a new bounce in his step as he made a beeline for it. Eric would be up shortly, and they could ditch the travel coffin in favor of driving down to Bon Temps in a sporty little number. Much better than in the cab of Sam Merlotte's small town truck. He had no idea what kind of truck, but he really didn't need to ask. Looking at Sam said everything he needed to know.

He carefully lowered Eric's coffin to the floor and began to chat with the clerk, Sam standing on the outskirts with an impatient look on his face. But Sam could grouch at him all he wanted, because the attendant was offering him a lovely little red Alfa Romeo and how on earth could he say no to that? It might be overcast and it might be nighttime, but there was absolutely no reason he couldn't have a shiny set of wheels to get him where he needed to be.

He was signing on the dotted line, the keys sitting on the counter next to him, when he heard the click and hiss of the coffin releasing next to him. He pushed the form across the counter and stepped back, a grin plastered to his face as Eric sat up from his coffin to find himself in the quiet airport. "Viking, so wonderful you could join us!" Lucifer gushed. "Just procuring us a ride and then we can be on our way."

Eric stood in one fluid movement, quiet as he assessed the world around him. His gaze fell on Sam and the two of them glared at each other for a moment. "Don't start fighting," Lucifer quipped as he grabbed the keys from the counter and gave the attendant one of his charming smiles. "I rented us something so we don't have to drive out all together. I'm sure you both are agreeable to that, yes?"

"Yes," Eric said, the single word short and clipped.

Lucifer turned back to the attendant. "Do you know where we could store Mr. Northman's travel coffin?"

It didn't take them much longer to get the coffin sorted away and as the three men finally left the airport, Lucifer wondered where they needed to go first. He assumed they'd head directly to Fangtasia, after all they were in Shreveport and that was Eric's homebase. But Sam seemed hell-bent on heading to Bon Temps and it was clear Eric was just as eager to follow.

"What do we do when we're there?" Lucifer asked, not sure what the plan was now that they'd made it to Louisiana.

"We find the people who know Sookie the best," Eric said.

Sam huffed, clearly thinking he knew Sookie best. Lucifer ignored it though. "Who would that be?" he asked the vampire, his feet shifting on the pavement, anxious to head to the rental lot and pick up his flashy baby for the evening.

"I'd say Tara, but since Tara's in Shreveport now, they don't exactly see each other," Eric said. "Arlene?" The vampire looked to the shifter who shrugged his shoulders. "Or Jason. If anyone knows her whereabouts, you'd think it would be family."

"Alright, we have a plan!" Lucifer crowed, happy. "Where shall we find Jason?"

"Merlotte's," Sam smirked. "Where I'm going."

"Seriously?" Lucifer asked, quirking a single eyebrow.

"Where else in Bon Temps is there to get a decent drink?" Sam asked, a smug look flashing across his face momentarily.

"And where else to pick up," Eric countered.

Sam shrugged noncommittally, but there was a gleam in his eye that told Lucifer the bar-owner himself had undoubtedly picked up a few patrons in his time. And considering his obsession with Sookie, perhaps some staff as well. The shifter might act all high and mighty, but he succumbed to his baser needs just like everyone else. Lucifer was sure of it.

"Right then, to Merlotte's," Lucifer said. "Pray tell, Shifter—do you serve some southern comfort food, because I'm already famished."

"Chicken-fried everything," Sam confirmed.

With that, they parted ways—Sam heading for the overnight parking and Lucifer and Eric heading toward the rental lot where Lucifer could see the bright red car waiting at the front gate for them. The silence stretched between them, not necessarily uncomfortable but certainly worrisome to Lucifer. He simply didn't know what to say. How did you broach the subject of your lover's ex without it turning into a fight?

Lucifer tipped the attendant who had brought his car around and the two tall men crammed themselves into the tiny but speedy car, and then they were out on the highway, heading into the gloomy night toward Bon Temps.

At first, as they made their way through the relatively small city of Shreveport, the silence was deafening. He wanted his lover back, the man who was cranky half the time and attentive lover the other. It couldn't be just about Sookie. Lucifer himself must be doing something wrong—or perhaps not doing something right?

So Lucifer did the one thing he knew he shouldn't do—he asked about Sookie and what made her so special. Sam Merlotte hadn't been able to help him understand, but perhaps Eric could. Why were all these men of Louisiana willing to throw themselves at her bloody feet? Surely if he knew, he could make corrections to be more like her, yes?

Lucifer's question about Sookie elicited a sigh from Eric though. And then a broody silence for a bit. More broody than before. Just when Lucifer decided there would be no admission, Eric finally replied. "She's part fairy," he finally said, as if that explained everything.

Lucifer waved a single hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes. She can read minds. She tastes like candy. I get that."

"Did you know she can't be glamoured?" Eric pointed out. "Another fairy trait. Not like you, where at least you can feel it. She doesn't feel it at all. I'm pretty sure she laughed in Bill's face the first time he tried doing it to her."

"She's special because you can't hypnotize her?" Lucifer asked, a note of disbelief in his voice. "I don't mean her special fae abilities. What makes her so unique an individual that everyone I've met seems to love her?"

"I don't love her," Eric spat out, but then his shoulders slumped, the tension seeming to just slip out of him almost as if in defeat. "Not like that; not anymore."

"But you did," Lucifer pointed out. "Enough to worry about your soul. My question is why? Why was she so special that you felt that way?"

Eric ran his hands up and down his thighs, a nervous tic that Lucifer had never seen before. But a quick glance showed him that Eric was frowning as he looked inward, seriously contemplating Lucifer's question. The last of the city lights lit up the vampire's pale face and then they were submerged in shadows, heading toward the middle of nowhere, northern Louisiana. It was slightly misty out, reminding Lucifer of the odd weather back in L.A.

"I wasn't exactly kind to her before I was cursed," Eric mused. "When people tell you I was a monster, they're not necessarily exaggerating. Sam, maybe. But Lafayette? He has a right to be scared of me. And Sookie knew—she knew I wasn't a well-behaved vampire like Bill. And she detested me for it." Eric smiled suddenly. "Perhaps a bit too much, I like to think."

A new silence stretched out between the two men, but this one wasn't uncomfortable. Eric was thinking about his past with Sookie, but he wasn't stressed like he'd been before. Remembering their relationship, as it were, seemed to calm him. "I tricked her into taking my blood the first time. And yet she stayed with Godric when he went to meet the sun."

Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "She saw me cry. She stayed with Godric, and I think she did it just as much for me as for him." He grew solemn again and Lucifer looked over for a second, worried. It seemed Eric was blinking back tears at the memory. It was always that way when he thought about his maker. What Lucifer would give to have met this Godric fellow.

"She didn't have to care, Lucifer," Eric said when he'd recovered again. "I've done horrible things in the name of vampirism, and I can't even pretend like I spared her from it. I used her as a tool multiple times because, for me, it was easy to detach myself from my emotions. I liked her, no denying that. She's so fucking innocent but really not at all, all in one doe-eyed package. The amount of horrible thoughts she must hear on any given day and still she offers a stranger southern comforts because that's what her Gram taught her to do."

Eric gave a dry bark of laughter. "You ask me what makes her unique? Lucifer, I once let a nest of vampires—four of us, I think—feed on her, in order to trick a crazed vampire with too much power to walk into the sun. I didn't ask her permission; I forced it on her. So why did she fucking stop the damn car when I was running scared and alone? Why did she take me in when I couldn't even remember who the fuck I was?" Lucifer could see Eric turn to look at him in the dark, the green lights from the dash glinting against his eyes. "Why did she love me when I'd done such horrible things to her? Why did she even care?"

"Perhaps she knew you weren't just the monster you appeared to be," Lucifer offered quietly.

"Why not?" Eric asked. "That's the point, Lucifer. Regardless of whatever feelings I might have had before I was cursed, I was always capable of dealing with them and putting them aside. It didn't matter to me if I liked Sookie Stackhouse. Using her was easy—that made me one of her personal monsters. She should have fucking hated me. Her ability to forgive—even a saint isn't that merciful. You ask what makes her unique, so special—it's her fucking empathy, her ability to forgive and to love you even when she knows you might end up eating her for breakfast."

Lucifer inclined his head, showing Eric he'd heard and that he understood. But where did that leave Lucifer? He, too, knew Eric could be a monster and loved him regardless. Hell, Lucifer himself could be a monster; all the more reason to love Eric despite his potential to do evil. If that was why Sookie was so special to Eric then Lucifer was already exhibiting the same traits. What Lucifer had wanted out of this conversation was how he, Lucifer, could be more like Sookie.

Perhaps wear more sundresses, he mused, which put a small grin on his face. Wear more sundresses, indeed. Although perhaps he could try the empathy card a bit more. It sounded as if Sookie willingly put others first, even when she knew she shouldn't. Lucifer had to admit selflessness wasn't exactly one of his strong points.

He was pondering how he could change in order to make Eric happier when they happened upon the first bloated carcass of an alligator, lying on the side of the road, someone having clearly dragged it back onto the shoulder after it had died. The two men were silent as they drove past it, but it cemented the words Sam had told them the night before. The alligators in Louisiana were mysteriously dying—and no one seemed to know why.

Tension began to fill the car again as they began to see more and more of the dead animals. The further toward Bon Temps they got, the more of them that seemed to be pushed up against the side of the road. Lucifer couldn't decide if it was something to do with Bon Temps itself or if, simply, there were more gators out here than closer to Shreveport. Middle of nowhere, truly.

Lucifer had lost count of how many they'd seen when he decided to pull the Alfa Romeo over so he could look at one of the dead gators. He just couldn't help himself. He'd never seen an alligator up close before, and certainly not one that was dead, most probably by way of magic or divine intervention. He parked the car directly in front of one of them, the headlights illuminating the dead animal perfectly.

"Be right back," he said, popping open the door and unfolding himself from the little car. Just a few steps took him toward the gator and then he was kneeling down, doing his best to ignore the stench of the slowly rotting thing.

It was bloated, short legs protruding out from its body stiffly in the dark. It had died with its eyes open and while they'd become murky in death they still sparkled in the light from the car. The smell was atrocious, but Lucifer had smelled worse. Fire and brimstone and all that.

What struck him as odd was the fact that it was perfectly intact. Judging by the smell, it had been here for a while. A few days, at the very least, in this heat. And yet no animals had been at it. No flies covered the body. No maggots, suggesting the flies had ever even been. If it had been dead as long as Lucifer thought—since all of this had begun just a few days prior—there should be signs of not just decay, but of predation. He was no expert on scavengers, but even he knew a turkey vulture wouldn't pass up a free meal, not even if it had been an apex predator while it was still alive. All living creatures, once dead, were a safe meal, after all.

Odd.

This was so very odd.

He stood and stretched, looking skyward at the blackness up there, wondering if his father had anything to do with all of this. It would be just like his father to put Sookie back on Eric's path, just to mess with Lucifer—to see if their relationship was stronger than a previous love. But then why include other half-fairies? And what on earth did any of this have to do with alligators?

He turned back toward the car, having learned nothing from the dead body, only to find Eric standing close to him. Eric didn't seem to care about the alligator though. He was staring at Lucifer with an intensity that Lucifer himself was familiar with. "I'm not in love with Sookie," Eric said.

"I never said you were," Lucifer said, but a slight fear seemed to ripple through him that Eric had read his mind.

"You told me your worry by asking about her," Eric said. Cool hands were suddenly on Lucifer's elbows, pulling the man closer in. "I'm worried for her. Very much so. She's the one who taught me how to do that. But what I feel for her is not what I feel for you. Stop worrying."

Lucifer's shoulders eased for a moment, a warmth blossoming in his chest at Eric's words. "Message received, Viking," Lucifer said, and then tugged the vampire into him, seeking a kiss.

Moments later they were back in the car, speeding down the highway again. "I suppose you did get me a billboard," Lucifer mused lightly, trying to keep the mood from turning sour again.

Eric snorted. "Don't forget it."

And just like that, Lucifer's mind was at ease.

The two of them together—they just worked so bloody fucking well.