Lucifer tossed his jacket across the bar, loosening his tie as he went around to get at the rows of alcohol. By the time they'd crossed Los Angeles and returned to Lux, Lucifer was saddened to see they only had a little time before Eric needed to be secured away in his travel coffin. Still, he needed a drink after the night he'd just had and the bar was empty, all of the patrons and the staff long gone as late night turned into early morning.

Besides, he wasn't quite ready to say goodnight to Eric.

The drive back to Lux had been quiet, his vampire lover grouchy and pensive. Lucifer knew the man loved him. Fiercely, at that. But Lucifer wasn't certain that the love Eric felt for him was just as strong as what he obviously still felt for Sookie Stackhouse. And it made Lucifer feel, well . . . uncertain.

Would the two of them sweep in and save the day only for Sookie to fall into Eric's arms? If that happened, would Lucifer simply be . . . forgotten?

If he listened to logic, if he listened to his heart, he'd know he had no risk of that happening. In fact, he kept trying to squash that incessant little voice that was making him doubt the strength of his relationship. But it was hard to not let that little voice cry out its fears. So often before it had been right. Hell, even he had unresolved feelings about a previous relationship—or non-relationship—that he still hadn't worked his way through.

That little voice of fear wondered—would Eric go back to Sookie if given the chance?

He hated that voice. It did him no good. And while he had a flight to catch in just a few short hours, he knew a great way to shut it up. Which was with a dram of scotch, the older the better. The good stuff was upstairs in his loft, but the stuff down here would do. His place was a mess, considering the construction going on, and he'd rather sit in the booth with Eric than on a dusty couch close to a bed they had no time to be spending in.

He perused his options and grabbed the best bottle that still had a fair amount left. Behind him, he heard Eric cross the space between the bar and the booths, knowing he was sinking down into the plush seating of the centre one. It was their spot anytime they were in the club, whether it was empty like this, or full to brimming with partiers. It was as if Eric had chosen his throne to sit upon, like at Fangtasia.

Although perhaps getting him a throne might be an idea. An actual throne. Not the gaudy piece the vampire had back in Shreveport. It could be Lucifer's version of the billboard. A way to physically express his love. Well, in a way that didn't involve the bedroom.

Lucifer poured himself a rather large drink on the rocks and then followed Eric across the silent floor, skirting around his baby grand piano. Now was not the time to play music. Now was the time to silence his nagging doubts and snuggle up to his lover, to confirm to himself that Eric loved him, not that silly little waitress from the backwoods bayou of Louisiana.

He slid in next to Eric, the sound of fabric against the plush velour of the bench soothing and familiar. Before he could open his mouth and say something stupid he drank from the glass, the liquid burning as it went down like golden sunlight laced with smoke. It was a shock to the senses every time, and Lucifer didn't think he'd ever grow tired of the human invention that was alcohol.

Lucifer sighed and sank into the comfort of the plush booth, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. The niggling worry in the back of his mind that had been whispering to him for hours finally grew silent as heat blossomed in his chest. He sat like that for a few moments, drink still in his hand, as he listened to the quiet of his bar, the vampire next to him so still he wouldn't have known he was there if not for the coolness that seemed to emanate from him. The voice—the self doubt—was finally blissfully quiet.

He opened his eyes, took another sip of his drink, and put it on the round table in front of them.

Contentment buzzed through his brain at just the few sips. It wouldn't last long, not unless he kept the drinks flowing, but for now his thoughts had settled. Just the act of partaking helped soothe his soul. "It's a shame a vampire can't drink whisky," he said, fingering the glass. "It must be a drag not to be able to feel a good buzz once in a while."

Eric sighed and his long legs stretched out beneath the table as he finally seemed to come back to the present. "We can," he finally said, surprising Lucifer.

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up and he suddenly pushed the glass toward Eric. If he'd known the vampire could drink, he'd have been offering the good stuff more often.

Eric shook his head. "No, I can't drink, but I can get the buzz."

Lucifer cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand," he said. "If you can't drink how can you get drunk?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it drunk," Eric mused. "But we can certainly feel the effects of whatever a human has in their system. Booze, drugs. It's not as strong for us, of course, but if there's enough of something racing through your blood, we can enjoy the effects as well. The more mixing in, the better."

"Viking, why didn't you tell me this before? We could have been having the most amazing of parties!" He was already thinking about what cocktail of narcotics he could scrounge together that the two of them could enjoy—with Lucifer offering the tainted blood, of course.

"We haven't exactly had time to party, Lucifer."

Lucifer huffed, grabbing his glass to take another sip of the whisky. "That's neither here nor there. Why didn't you tell me I could help you enjoy the finer things in life?"

"I don't know, Luci. It never came up. I haven't even been here half the time." Eric finished his short tirade with a snarl, proving he was in a bad mood as the sun's arrival loomed ahead of them.

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably next to the vampire. He drained his glass as that niggling worry tried to creep back. That he wasn't enough for Eric.

"There's a lot we don't know about each other, isn't there?" Lucifer said quietly as he placed the empty glass on the table once more. He didn't want to sound needy, but well . . . it certainly came out that way. He hated himself for it even as he felt Eric freeze next to him.

When Eric moved again, an arm shot out to curl around Lucifer's shoulders and draw the devil into a cool embrace. "I'm being an ass, aren't I?" Eric asked. "I'm worried about Sookie because she's important and it's driving me mad that I can't do anything right now. But that doesn't mean I should be taking it out on you."

Eric suddenly sat up straighter, pulling at Lucifer until they'd rearranged themselves so that Eric could prop his chin against the top of Lucifer's head. Lucifer felt a warm glow blossom within him as he felt Eric breathe deeply. The vampire had once told him what Lucifer's scent reminded him of—and that was of his previous life. When he'd been able to sail the sea under the bright Nordic sun. The feeling of love that was coursing through Lucifer became melancholy, as he remembered his thought from earlier that night—if he could give his lover the sun, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

He was the devil, damn it. An angel. One of God's children, for crying out loud. If he couldn't find a way to give a vampire the ability to walk under the sun permanently, who could? He vowed then and there, wrapped in Eric's arms, that he'd somehow find a way to do it.

Except . . . right now there was a mystery to solve and an imminent sunrise.

Lucifer sighed and reluctantly pulled from Eric's arms. "Much as I appreciate a good cuddle and what it can lead to, I'm afraid we've got to get you to your coffin, Viking."

The two men extricated themselves from the booth, neither one actually eager to head down to the second floor so Eric could lock himself away in a tiny, black box. Eric was hurting, it was clear. Hurting over a woman who had broken his heart—hurting because he was scared she was in trouble.

Still feeling a bit unsure of himself, and ignoring the voice in his head that told him he was too needy, he grabbed Eric's hand and tugged him toward the elevator that would lead them up to the offices.

"So what affects a vampire more? Alcohol or drugs?" Lucifer asked, trying to bring the conversation back to something light. And interesting, for that matter.

Eric gave a small shrug. "Depends on the drug," he said. "I'd say, as a general rule, the stronger the effect on the human, the stronger the effect on a vampire. Look at alcohol—beer versus brandy?"

Lucifer snorted a dry laugh. "Ah, I see your point."

He stabbed the button for the elevator and the doors slid open, as if the lift had been waiting for them. He pulled Eric inside, drawing him close so that he could kiss the other man. The elevator sat, neither of them having pressed the button for the next floor, as Lucifer tried to heat the vampire up with his will alone.

It took a few moments, but Eric did begin to respond to Lucifer's advances, pushing the devil back into the wall, hips pushing into his. A growl escaped him, almost a whine of need really. Lucifer lifted his head, hands between them as he desperately unbuttoned his own shirt, baring his throat to Eric in a plea to offer himself to soothe Eric's torturous thoughts.

There was a pinching coolness against his neck, and Lucifer closed his eyes, leaning back against the elevator wall as he felt the cloying lure of the vampire's magic seduce him into a calm stupor. His worry seemed to disappear, slipping from him with every pull Eric took of his blood, and moments later, when his Viking finally came up for air, Lucifer was only mildly surprised to realize his hands had dug into the vampire's hair. He felt loved.

Eric's forehead hit Lucifer's as Eric seemed to gather his own emotions, but Lucifer knew the clock was ticking and it was only a matter of minutes before Eric needed to be safely tucked away so the sunlight couldn't hurt him. He wanted nothing more than to continue this tryst with Eric, but not at the risk of the man hurting himself. "Let's get you to bed, shall we?" he asked softly.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart, Lucifer reaching out to press the button that would take them up a floor. Before the doors could open though, Eric had pricked his thumb with a fang and reached out to smear the few drops of blood onto Lucifer's fang marks, once again healing the devil before Lucifer could even protest.

He did it out of love, though. And with Lucifer's worries about Miss Stackhouse, it at least kept him in a good mood as he led the way down the hall. He had a thought though, just as they reached the door to the office where Eric kept his things. "Viking, do human diseases and viruses affect you?" He knew that vampires had a few vulnerabilities—the sun, wooden stakes, beheading, sudden and unforeseen acts of Dad. But Lucifer had never considered diseases before. If drinking a human's blood could transfer the effects of drugs to a vampire, no matter how diluted, didn't it stand to reason that it could transfer dangerous infections as well?

"Generally, no," Eric said. "We are immune to most viruses."

Eric opened the door to the office and disappeared inside.

Lucifer followed.

"Only most?"

Eric was all the way across the room, pulling the travel coffin out from under some boxes.

"Viking, you said most. Is there something that can harm you?" Lucifer was not going to let this go. He needed to know what other weaknesses Eric had—so he knew what he needed to be concerned about.

A box fell but the coffin was finally clear of Eric's packed things. He pressed the release buttons and it opened with a pneumatic hiss. He stared down at it with distaste and Lucifer wondered if he had been heard.

Eric took a single step forward to stand inside the coffin, and he turned to give Lucifer an icy blue look. "There is a virus called Hepatitis D. It won't kill a vampire but it will certainly weaken one." He grimaced. "Reducing our strengths and powers to that of a mere human. It makes it far easier for someone to detain us or kill us."

"I don't like the sound of that," Lucifer said. "Although I suppose it could be worse. Can you tell when a human has this virus?"

Eric shook his head. "No. We can't smell it and it's harmless to humans themselves."

Lucifer frowned. "So it's always a risk?"

Eric shrugged and then sank down to a sitting position. "Not many humans actually have Hep D. And I haven't met a vampire whose had it in a couple years. And like I said, it doesn't kill a vampire. It weakens them temporarily."

Lucifer surged into the room, closing the door behind him before sinking down next to the coffin. "Should I worry, Viking?"

This got a smile from Eric. "No, Luci. I'll be fine."

Lucifer nodded, trying to cast aside any worries. He was being paranoid. But he was a worrier. Everything always fell apart at some point—it was precisely how his life always went. Usually because of his father.

"Thank you, Lucifer," Eric said, surprising the devil.

"Whatever for?" he asked, confused.

"For keeping my head on straight," Eric replied. "For distracting me. For being here with me. For understanding."

Before Lucifer could say something to ruin the moment—and certainly he would if he admitted his feelings—Eric's hand was on the back of Lucifer's neck, and the devil allowed himself to be drawn in for a goodnight—well, good morning—kiss.

It wasn't demanding or heated. It was a long kiss though, with Eric's fingers slipping into Lucifer's short hair at the back of his neck, as the vampire silently professed his love to Lucifer in a way he knew the devil would respond to.

Lucifer was grateful that his Viking vampire understood his desperate need for touch.

The kiss lingered, neither one of them wanting Eric to lie down fully in the coffin and have the lid closed above him. Especially this coffin, a sleek black thing meant for travelling, not comfort. It didn't matter if Eric was completely oblivious to his surroundings while he slept the sleep of the dead—Lucifer just didn't like it. He deserved to lay his head on satin and know that when he awoke he could turn and find Lucifer there.

Eric Northman deserved to be spoiled rotten. And Lucifer hated it when he couldn't let them happen.

Lucifer knew when the sun had officially risen, Eric's movements growing languorous as death beckoned him toward sleep. Lucifer pulled away from him, unhappy to have to part with him—especially since they were about to board a plane later that morning. He in first class, but Eric stored below.

As if reading Lucifer's thoughts, Eric thanked him again. "For keeping watch over me as we head to Shreveport," he explained. "I can't think of anyone else I'd trust more."

Lucifer smiled, touched at the comment. "Of course, Viking. I wouldn't let anyone else accompany you. You know that. I will see you tonight. Sleep well."

Eric finally lay down fully in the coffin, a small smile playing upon his lips as he closed his eyes and welcomed death for the day. Lucifer reluctantly pulled the lid closed, making sure he heard it click before he found the locks and closed those too. He sat there next to it for far too long afterward, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

One hand against the gloss of the portable coffin, he felt his heart glow with a warmth that he'd become to associate with the man lying inside. He could worry all the Hell he wanted about Sookie Stackhouse. Let the self-doubting voice rail at him with suspicions and fears. But deep in his heart he knew that Eric loved him. And that was enough to keep Lucifer's heart full, even when the voices inside told him he wasn't worthy.

Eric loved him. And Lucifer loved him back. Desperately.

To note: Where I chose to start this series, the beginning of Season 5, Hepatitis V still hadn't been introduced to the series. As such, only Hep D exists in this timeframe, which is something we learned about during Season 1.

Hep V doesn't exist in this time frame . . . at least for now. ;)