Fire in Rain and Thunder

Part Three: Wind and Rain

When Lucifer had come home last night, he had not anticipated the tension radiating through the house. In fact, he had initially thought it was empty when he pulled into the driveway since nearly the whole house was dark except for the single window in Charlie's room. Normally, the entire house would be lit up with the porch light on to welcome Lucifer home at night.

Stepping inside, he felt the house was colder than the freezing rain outside. There was no comforting jazz playing from the record player or smell of a homemade meal wafting from the kitchen. No ambiguous voice coming from a distant room greeted him upon walking through the door, either. Lucifer had been on edge the moment he crossed the threshold.

When he checked on Charlie, he found her aggressively scribbling away at her desk. "Hey, sweetie," he started tentatively as he made his way into the room. "Is everything okay?"

It wasn't very assuring when Charlie groaned in reply and hunkered down lower over her desk. Emotions came big to Charlie these days so Lucifer took a breath to prepare himself and made the rest of his way into the room. "Want to—" A bump against his foot had him looking down to see the collection of their elusive candles scattered across the floor. A couple of the long-neck candles were now broken and only held together by the wick.

"Ah, so that's what happened to all the candles," he said as he glanced back at Charlie.

"Look, I made a mistake, okay?!" she snapped, never looking up from her project. "It was just one mistake! And I didn't even do anything wrong!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lucifer said, lifting his hands placatingly. "I didn't come here for a fight, kiddo. I just want to know what's wrong."

She finally spun in her seat to address him. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were blotchy and stained with tear-tracks. There was a scowl on her face as she stared at him skeptically. "You didn't talk to Al?"

Lucifer's mind raced as he tried to predict what the hell could have happened while he had been away at the shop. Did she get in a fight with Vaggie? She was supposed to stay over, right? "Was I supposed to…?"

Her eyes fixed on Lucifer for a long time, perhaps considering the validity of his uncertainty. She must have come to a conclusion because she huffed and sagged in her seat. "He… didn't call you?"

Her tone took on a soft, almost scared cadence that had Lucifer's heart clenching. "No, why?" He hesitantly moved his way closer. She didn't shoo him away so he took the initiative and sat on the edge of her bed. "Did something happen?"

"Look, I just—I—it—ugh!" She threw her hands up in the air and turned her back to him as she propped her elbows on the desk and buried her face in her hands. "I… bought a Ouija board."

"Huh?" Lucifer lifted a brow. It took several agonizingly long seconds for his brain to catch up to the depth of that confession. "Oh. Oh!" Another cursory glance around the room had him taking in the candles and the sudden discovery that her quilt was missing from the bed. And if she's asking about Alastor, combined with the obvious signs of crying, it was apparent that she had been discovered by perhaps the worst person to find her.

"Charlie," he started in a gentle tone, "you know you're not allowed—"

"I know!" Her voice shook in remorse. She ran her fingers through her hair, which was now well and fully ratted from several stemming fingers. "But it's a stupid rule!" She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. She turned in her chair again to face him with watery eyes. "Why do we have it? It's not like we go to church anymore. And Alastor never went to church," she said with a sharp jab towards the door. "Why does he care?"

This had taken a drastic turn Lucifer hadn't anticipated. And now he knew he had another complicated conversation waiting for him wherever Alastor was hiding. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. Charlie barely remembered their time back in Luisiana so most of her culture was rooted in New York. There was a lot she didn't know of her birthplace and Lucifer was forced to come to terms that he had done a poor job of educating her.

"You don't need to be Christian to not like dealing with the occult, sweetie. And I can't say I'm happy you brought one into this house, either."

"But why does it matter?" she pressed impatiently. "It's just a game!"

Lucifer calmly brought up a hand to gently silence her. He kept his voice level as he tried to explain, "It may be just a game to you. But it can mean more than that to others. Faith comes in multiple forms."

"But have you even tried it? If you guys just tried it—"

"Charlie," he said, turning firm. "This is something you just have to respect. Some people think even trying something like… this," he gestured to the candles on the floor, "is taboo. It's opening the house for dark or vengeful entities."

"Well," she grumbled, crossing her arms, "that's stupid."

"That's not very respectful," he chastised.

"Neither is storming into my room and stealing my stuff!" she bellowed, assumingly referring to Alastor. She made another jabbing gesture towards the door. "And then he sent Vaggie home – even after you agreed to let her stay the night!" Fresh tears fell from her eyes and she was quick to rub at her face. "He had no right to ground me!"

Lucifer had a lot of information to filter all at once and did his best to carefully file them in his mind. He tried not to let his shock show on his face as he registered it all. Alastor had never grounded Charlie before and the thought of him taking her stuff was difficult to fathom.

"Well, I…" He trailed off. He didn't really know how to handle this. "I'll talk to Alastor," he settled on saying. "But I wished you'd talked to me about this."

She scoffed. "Would you have let me if I asked?"

"No," he sighed out with a shake of his head. "Probably not. But I would have explained why."

She scoffed again and returned her attention to her project. "It's so stupid," she grumbled.

Lucifer refrained from another sigh. Charlie was usually a very understanding girl, but she was apparently upset. She felt wronged and there was too much he didn't know to be able to help. He leaned over where he sat to try and see what she was working on. It looked like a homework assignment, perhaps a book report since she had that favorite book of hers open on the desk.

He fumbled with his fingers. Charlie was obviously done talking to him but he didn't want to end their conversation like this. "Charlie, do you want to talk about why—"

"Please leave me alone," she gritted out.

Releasing a breath through his nose, Lucifer rose from the bed. "Okay. We can talk more tomorrow." He lingered to wait for an answer but received none. In a last ditch attempt for a better conclusion, he offered, "Are you hungry? I'm starved. I can make us some dinner?"

"No," she responded curtly, refusing to look up from her work.

Lucifer's lips pulled into a thin line. "Okay." He was just cracking the door when he poked his head back inside. "Goodnight, ducky. I love you."

She sighed, long and loud, before forcing out, "Love you, too, Dad."

Well, it was something. Reluctant as he was to leave her upset, he knew all too well the importance of independence, so he chose to leave her alone. After all, he couldn't ask her to respect his and Alastor's wishes if he wasn't willing to do the same.

Speaking of Alastor, it was time to find him next.

The darkness of the house was daunting and each crash of lightning outside had him jumping nearly out of his skin. And he hated the silence in the house. It was so uncharacteristic of a household filled with singers and musicians. It left the house feeling hollow and cold.

After first checking the bedroom, parlor, then the kitchen, Lucifer eventually found Alastor in the office. It wasn't often Alastor occupied himself in there since he typically did his work either in front of the piano or at the dining room table. As a result, Lucifer had filled the room with various tools and materials he used for projects. Alastor hated the room because it was a cluttered mess so he tended to avoid it unless he was looking for something specific.

When Lucifer found him, much like Charlie, Alastor was bent over the desk and focusing on a task at hand. His back was hunched and his eyes were squinted in concentration as he sewed chunks of leather together in what appeared to be a miniature pouch not even large enough to carry a pocket watch. He seemed to have already completed two others, which were paired together on the corner of the desk.

Most surprisingly, also sitting atop the desk was Alastor's precious family heirloom: a delicately carved memento box with a brass keyhole that kept it locked closed. It had been sitting on the highest shelf of their bookcase ever since they moved in together. Alastor cared for it and kept it clean, but never once had he opened it.

Until now.

The memento box sat open, revealing its velvet lining within. Several small trinkets were collected inside, ranging from colorful stones, possible gemstones, and tiny vials of liquids Lucifer couldn't identify. There were also tiny little white rock-looking things scattered across the bottom of the box.

"Hey," he greeted as he made his way inside. Guilt settled in his stomach when Alastor jumped in his seat and fumbled with his project. "Ah, sorry! Thought you heard me."

Alastor's eyes were wide, with one hand pressed to his chest as he turned to him. "Lucifer," he scolded in a whisper.

"I said I was sorry," he whined with the lift of both of his hands.

Alastor let out a bone-weary sigh and shifted back towards the desk, the chair creaking under him with each movement. He checked the time on his wristwatch before resuming his task. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't realize how late it was."

Lucifer didn't know why Alastor felt the need to keep his voice down, but Lucifer followed the cue and stayed hushed himself. "It's okay." He leaned against the desk with his hip and supported himself with one hand along the top. When it seemed Alastor had no intention of talking – a concerning notion in and of itself – Lucifer decided to discuss the elephant in the room.

"So… " he started, dragging out the word reluctantly, "I talked to Charlie."

"Ah," said Alastor in response, glaring down at the pouch in his hands. Or perhaps he was just squinting at it due to the darkness of the room. The only light he had on was the dim desk light instead of the standing floor lamp.

"Why are you working in the dark?" Lucifer digressed, reaching over to turn on the floor lamp. "You're just going to make your eyes worse—"

"No!" Alastor said sharply. "It's best done in the dark."

"Oh. What is?"

"I thought you wanted to talk about Charlie," Alastor said in lieu of an answer.

"Yeah…" He drummed his fingers against his thigh. "She told me she bought a Ouija board."

Alastor didn't divert his attention from his project. "That's right."

Lucifer had to shove down his growing frustration. Alastor had a tendency to give short, unhelpful answers whenever he felt vulnerable. As difficult as he was making it for Lucifer to help, his silence spoke volumes.

"She said you took it from her."

"That's right," he repeated.

Eye twitching, Lucifer pressed, "And did what with it?"

"Disposed of it," he nearly growled, glaring up at Lucifer in apparent annoyance.

Good, thought Lucifer. If Alastor was going to annoy the hell out of him, then he was going to return the favor. "How?"

"Very carefully."

He groaned. "Will you stop being a pain in my ass? I'm trying to help here, asshole."

Alastor threw his head back as he let out a frustrated sigh, simultaneously slamming his project down on the table. The slapping noise stood out starkly in the reserved quiet and Lucifer jumped. When he glanced down to Alastor's hands, he noticed that several fingers were stained black. And now that he was looking down, he also saw a new black stain on the surface of the desk.

"If you must know," he said heatedly, persistently keeping his voice down. He reached down to the side of the desk, drawing Lucifer's attention to Charlie's quilt crumpled in a pile off in the corner. In a sharp motion, Alastor thrusted a thin, rectangular piece of wood into Lucifer's chest.

Whatever it was was smothered in black paint that Lucifer feared was still wet and would stain his white shirt. He let out a concerned cry, but once it was in his hands, he noticed it was dry. Well, mostly dry. There were still spots where dense puddles of paint were damp and sticky so Lucifer was careful with how he handled it as he turned it over in his hands. The paint job was terribly done with obvious brush strokes and bits where the original color underneath could be seen between thick lines of paint.

"What is this?"

"The Ouija board," Alastor explained as he returned to his project.

"What did you do to it?" he asked rhetorically as he spun it around. He never could have guessed that's what it was. "Is this how you dispose of it?"

"That's just step one. Now that you're home, I plan to bury it."

"Bury it? Here?"

"Don't be foolish," he hissed. "I'm taking it out to the river and burying it on the bank."

"You really want to drive out in this storm to bury this thing? That's excessive, Alastor."

He glared up at Lucifer. "I beg to differ."

Lucifer frowned. "Real talk," he started. "I don't want you going out in this weather. If you feel you have to bury it, then wait until tomorrow. We can do it together."

Alastor's expression gradually softened as he considered the offer. "I'd rather do it now."

He placed the Ouija board down then rubbed a hand along Alastor's arm. "I understand this is important to you, but that's insane. We're both off tomorrow. We can take care of it before getting ready for the party."

Alastor grumbled but didn't argue further. Lucifer considered that a win. He leaned further into Alastor until he had both arms wrapped around his shoulders. "So, what happened earlier?"

He sighed silently and paused with his sewing to clench and unclench his right hand. "I'm sure your daughter told you enough," he said dismissively.

Something about that phrasing bothered him but Lucifer couldn't put his finger on exactly what. "She won't talk to me." He rested his chin on the top of Alastor's head, blowing at a cowlick that tried to enter his mouth. "Did you ground her?"

"I did," he affirmed. "I walked in on her using the Ouija board, took it from her, and grounded her for the weekend."

"Ouch. She's been really excited about the party tomorrow."

Alastor's shoulders sagged. "I know…"

"I won't revoke it," Lucifer assured. "I'm trusting your judgement."

"Perhaps you shouldn't," he muttered, so low Lucifer almost didn't hear it.

"Why not?"

Another sigh. "It doesn't matter."

"Sounds like it does."

"It doesn't," he enforced. "I plan on making a deal with her." He lifted up the pouch in his hand. "Once I'm done with this, I'm hoping for her to carry it in exchange for attending her party."

Lucifer leaned forward, forcing Alastor to lean with him, and fetched one of the completed pouches from the desk. "What is this, exactly?"

Almost ashamedly, Alastor said, "It's a gris-gris."

"Oh!"

Lucifer hadn't heard of gris-gris since their days back in Luisiana. It was common amongst the lower class who practiced voodoo, though he didn't know the details. "I didn't know you believed in those." Alastor remained suspiciously quiet and instead focused on continuing his sewing. "You never talk about your culture."

"You never ask."

Okay, ouch. It was no wonder Charlie didn't know anything about Luisiana and the culture therein; Lucifer never talked about it. Shame settled over him like a heavy blanket. His stomach panged as if he had been struck by a knife. He squeezed his arms around Alastor in a type of awkward hug. "I'm sorry. I guess I never thought to."

"I don't blame you," he answered assuredly. "It's only common."

"But it shouldn't be," Lucifer argued morosely. Guilt weighed heavily in the pit of his stomach. They had lived together for seven years now and never once did Lucifer ask about the details of Alastor's faith or practices. Alastor always just went along with whatever culture Lucifer imposed on their household, the only exception being church. "I'm sorry."

"Stop it." Alastor reached one hand up to pat the top of Lucifer's head. "I was the one who chose not to bring it up."

With a depressed groan, Lucifer pulled away from Alastor to instead observe the items in the memento box. "Is that why you never opened this? Are all these for gris-gris?"

"And various other things," Alastor provided with a proud grin.

Lucifer picked up a colorful stone of a deep emerald color and one of the small white rocks. "Wow." He squinted his eye at the oddly shaped white rock. Now that he was getting a closer look, unlike the other stones, the white rocks all seemed to have the same curvature shape with sharp ends. It looked almost familiar in the dim light. "What are these?"

Alastor's eyes narrowed as his smile took on a sharp edge. "Charlie's baby teeth."

His stomach churned and Lucifer dropped the tooth as if he had been burned. "Ew!"

Swiftly, Alastor reached over and shut the box with a snap, keeping his hand firmly on the lid as he slid it close to him. "And that's why I don't talk about it,"

"Wait—no! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Panic flared in Lucifer's chest and he grasped onto Alastor's sleeve. "I just wasn't expecting it."

Alastor eyed him warily before releasing his hold on the box. Lucifer quickly took it and returned the emerald stone. So, as it turned out, Alastor had opened the box since they moved in together. He still found it disgusting but he wasn't going to question it now, not when Alastor opened up to him like this.

"So, why keep her teeth?"

"The best way to offer protection is to provide a body part of the person you want to protect," Alastor said hesitantly.

"Oh, really?"

"Really." Abruptly, Alastor reached forward and plucked several hairs from Lucifer's head, earning him a yelp in protest.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

Alastor, grinning wickedly, lifted a finger to his lips. "It's best done in silence."

Tears pricked at Lucifer's eyes and he rubbed at his offended head. "Why'd you do that?"

"You never lost any teeth," he answered casually as he placed the stolen hairs in the box.

Still rubbing his head, Lucifer gazed at his fallen hairs. "Is hair a body part?"

He shrugged. "It's acceptable." Perhaps to help Lucifer feel better, Alastor reached up and plucked some of his own hairs to place in the box.

Reevaluating the three pouches, realization struck Lucifer like a slap to the face. "You're making one for all of us."

Alastor turned sheepish, which was an adorable look on him. "If you're willing."

Lucifer hadn't expected his heart to swell three times its size that day when he rolled out of bed. "You're wanting to protect us," he surmised.

Alastor rolled his eyes as though annoyed but there was no hiding the blush forming along his neck and burning the tips of his ears. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Says the man who wanted to bare the rage of a storm to bury a game."

He scoffed and Lucifer beamed in victory. He looked back down at the pouch in Alastor's hands and noticed the excess trembling in his right hand. Sewing leather was always a struggle, even to someone practiced in it. It must be pretty strenuous to make three pouches out of leather, especially ones so intricate.

"Want me to finish that for you?"

"A generous offer," he replied with a soft grin, "and perhaps it would look better under your skilled hand, but I'm afraid this is something I must do myself."

"Oh. Okay," he said with a frown. "How many more steps are there?"

"Several, I'm afraid," he said wearily. "I'll be down here for a while. No need to wait up for me."

Lucifer's frown deepened until an idea crossed his mind. "You haven't eaten yet, right? You know what? I don't care." He started towards the door. "I'm making us some food and Charlie's going to eat something whether she likes it or not."

"If it's all the same to you," Alastor said before he could leave, "I'd rather stay in here until I'm done."

That wasn't the desired result. "Yeah, uh, sure." He drummed his fingers against the door. "We'll talk with Charlie together tomorrow."

There was uncomfortable pause before Alastor said over his shoulder, "Of course!"

Lucifer had known Alastor long enough to recognize false cheer when he heard it. Unfortunately, he also knew Alastor well enough to leave him alone when he wanted it. He felt strange as he left Alastor in the office. Normally it was Lucifer who fell into bouts of silence and it was Alastor and Charlie who pulled him from his funk. He didn't know what to do now that it was the opposite way around.

He glanced up the stairs as he passed them by and stopped to rest his hand on the banister in hopes it would ground him. Things were a little rocky now but he had dealt with far worse before. If his family needed him to be the foundation, then he could step up to the role. With a determined slap against the banister, Lucifer made the resolution to fix everything come tomorrow.

…

As it turned out, fixing everything started with staring at a sprawled Alastor.

He must have stayed up pretty late working on the gris-gris if he didn't wake up before Lucifer. It was a rare feat indeed whenever Lucifer got to see Alastor's hair mussed, his shirt partially open with one button undone in the middle, and poised in such a graceless pose that it was difficult not to laugh.

Shifting carefully, Lucifer moved close and gently pressed his lips against a freckled cheek. The hum he got in response almost had Lucifer squealing in delight. He loved the noises Alastor made in his sleep. What was astounding was that nearly every one sounded like a musical note; even his uglier grumbles and groans. Lucifer leaned in again for one more kiss. Alastor let out another hum and turned towards the touch, which sparked a giggle deep in Lucifer's throat. He could lie here kissing Alastor all day but he knew there was work left to do. So, with one final kiss and its resulting hum, Lucifer forced himself from Alastor's side and got himself ready.

It was a fortuitous day indeed if the weather was anything to go by. The storm had momentarily passed and there were even shreds of sunlight slipping through the thick clouds overhead. Unfortunately, the harsh winds had ripped bare nearly every tree in the neighborhood. The beautiful collection of orange, red, and yellow leaves now lay scattered across the yard. He'd have to tend to that.

Even more fortunate, Charlie was already awake and sitting at the dining room table. She was drawing something this time and she looked up anxiously at hearing him come down the stairs. The frown on her face deepened and she returned to her picture.

"Expecting Alastor?" he asked once he got close.

Charlie shrugged in response.

"I have an idea." As he passed her on the way to the kitchen, he rested his hands on her shoulders and gave an assuring squeeze. "How about I make us some breakfast and then we rake the lawn together?"

"'Rake the lawn'?" she mimicked in a groan.

"No, it'll be fun! We'll make a game out of it!" He kissed the crown of her head and continued towards the kitchen. "But first: pancakes!"

Breakfast was surprisingly pleasant, despite the tension lingering in the air. They kept conversation light, talking about homework and the recent project Lucifer finished late last night and how he had to wait for the parent to come and pick it up before he was able to come home. He still had a few projects he needed to complete for projected dates, but that was something he could worry about tomorrow. Today had been reserved for family.

Outside, their garden was lush and brilliant. Alastor had molded it years ago starting with an apple tree and expanded it from there. Lucifer planted strawberries and other seasonal fruit then Charlie eventually started planting her favorite flowers and tended to them herself. Though Lucifer ended up being the primary caregiver for the garden, it was their pride and joy.

The fallen leaves complimented the purple asters and golden marigolds well, scattering across the lawn like dots on a pointillism painting. It was beautiful in its mayhem and he was reluctant to clear them away, but if they left the leaves where they lied then they'd fester like a disease and tarnish everything they had worked so hard to create. And so, Lucifer grabbed their rake and handed it off to Charlie before grabbing the outside broom for himself.

He spotted one of certainly many fallen apples hidden amidst the leaves and scooped it up. "Oh, I know!" He tossed the apple in his hand as he turned back to the shed to grab their food crate. "Let's make some apple bread later. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Charlie, whose back was to him, shrugged as she idly raked the ground in front of her. "I guess."

With a frown, Lucifer wracked his brain. "Oh, even better!" He hurried to the middle of the yard and placed the crate dab in the center. "Whenever you find a downed apple, you have to try and toss it into the crate from where you found it. Whoever gets the most in the crate gets to lick the spoon."

Finally, finally Charlie smiled. "That sounds fair." After looking down at the leaves, she offered, "What do I win when I make the biggest pile of leaves?"

"Oho! You think you're going to beat me?" He spun the broom in his hands. "I may have a broom, kiddo, but I'm a pile master. You've seen my office and workshop."

Charlie giggled. "Yeah? Well, you haven't seen my locker," she said as she attempted to spin the rake. She got one good spin in before the end of the it caught the ground and she lost hold of it.

Lucifer laughed. "Sorry, pipsqueak. You have a few inches left to grow before you're able to pull this off." He demonstrated his spin again.

"Just wait," she huffed as she picked the rake back up. "Soon enough, I'll be taller than you."

"We'll see about that," he said with an arrogant shrug. Really, knowing her mother, the odds were in her favor. But he still had one last hope that he kept some height over her, even if only an inch.

"Let's say, when I make the bigger pile of leaves," he said as he started to sweep the patio, "then I pick where we go out to eat next."

"What?" Charlie exclaimed. "Winner gets to pick a restaurant?"

"A reasonable restaurant," he established with a pointed finger.

"Deal!"

"Deal," Lucifer agreed and went to sweeping the patio with gusto.

Several minutes passed pleasantly as the two of them focused on their tasks, occasionally humming and singing as they went. Then, gradually, Charlie grew quiet and her movements slowed.

"Dad," she said suddenly, "what is Al to you?"

"Huh?" Lucifer paused in his sweeping to regard his daughter. Her shoulders were slumped and she was fixated on a fallen apple she was rolling beneath her shoe.

"Alastor… what is he to you?"

"He's—I don't know. There's not really a word for it," he said as he scratched at his head.

"He's not your wife, right?"

His response was automatic. "No, of course not. He's a man."

"Your husband, then?"

"Well, it's not like we're married," he said consideringly. "But, yeah, I guess? Alastor calls me papi sometimes. That essentially means the same thing, I think."

"Then… does that make him…" She trailed off as she hugged the rake to herself. "Is he my dad?"

Lucifer opened his mouth but closed it again as he thought over the question. "Do you see him as a dad?" When she only shrugged in response, Lucifer tried another tactic. "He sees you as a daughter, you know."

She looked up at him and there were tears welling in her eyes. "He does?"

"Of course." Where had there been room for doubt? "He loves you, and nothing could change that. Even after what happened yesterday."

She sniffed and wiped at her nose. "I said some really mean things to him," she choked out.

Lucifer dropped his broom and crossed the yard in an instant to wrap his arms around her. "Hey, it's okay, shhh," he assured. "I can promise you, whatever you possibly said to him last night, he's definitely heard worse. Mostly from me."

"He was so mad, Dad," she said with a sob. She turned to press her face into his chest and he could feel the tears against his neck. "He hates me."

"No, no, shh." He tightened his hold on her and moved one hand to stroke through her hair as he gently rocked them back and forth. "He could never hate you, I promise. In fact, last night he was trying to think of a way to make it up to you."

Sniffling, she looked up at him. "Make it up to me?"

Lucifer nodded. "He feels bad, too. Trust me, all you two need to do is talk it out and the both of you will feel much better about it." A recollection crossed his mind. It was a gamble, but he was a man of faith. "In fact, if you two manage to make up, maybe you'll be able to go to that party tonight."

That got her. Charlie pulled back and looked up at him with widened eyes. "Really? Are you serious?" Excitement laced her words.

Taking a page out of Alastor's book, Lucifer feigned indifference as he casually said, "Maybe. You'll just have to talk to him when he wakes up."

"Yeah, okay," she said as she rubbed at her face.

It was assuring to see her smiling again, but now something was weighing on Lucifer's mind. He had never really put much thought into it before, but that was quickly proving to be a fault of his. He really should start putting more consideration into the thoughts and concerns of others.

"Charlie," he started cautiously, "why did you want to use a Ouija board?"

She instantly blushed and looked down at her feet. "It's stupid."

"Is it because… you wanted to talk to your mom?"

"What?" She lifted a brow up at him as if he had asked the dumbest possible question imaginable. "Mom? No. Why would I do that?"

"Oh," he said lamely in response, blinking in surprise. "Then why?"

"Well…" She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear when a strong wind caught it. "You know my book?" He nodded and she continued. "Well, she gets possessed and that's why—"

"You wanted to get possessed?!"

"Of course not!"

Lucifer's head was reeling. "Then what did you want?"

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "Just… to try something, I guess."

He ran his hand down his face with a groan. "All this because of that book…" He absolutely hated that book from the moment she brought it home from the library and every day since. And it was doing him no favors now.

"It's a good book," she insisted.

"I'm not going to take it from you or anything," he established, though he was tempted to do just that. "But next time you want to do something crazy like this, talk to me about it? Otherwise, I will start taking things."

"Okay, Dad," she said with the roll of her eyes and a playful grin.

"Promise me."

"I promise not to do more crazy things without getting my dad's permission," she said as she extended her pinky.

Lucifer was sure there was a loophole in there somewhere with her getting Alastor's permission instead, but he took what he was willing to get. With a grin of his own, he wrapped his pinky around hers. "Promise accepted."

He ruffled her hair and turned back to the yard with his hands on his hips. "Looks like I'm winning the leaf pile," he observed.

"Not for long!" Charlie pushed him back and rushed to finish the unraked leaves.

Lucifer laughed as he stumbled back. "Pushing is cheating, you know," he declared as he hurried over to his broom.

The mood lifted exponentially from that moment on. The two of them were teasing one another, making proud exclamation for each apple they made into the crate, and celebrated Charlie's giant pile of leaves by tossing her into them. They then had to clean up the leaves again, but her joy was worth every minute.

Just as they were wrapping up, Lucifer turned to lead the way inside only to find Alastor sitting out on the patio and observing them with a mug of coffee. When did the creepy freak sneak his way out without either of them noticing? Based on the sharp smile on his face, Alastor was proud of himself for managing his stealthy feat.

While Lucifer scowled at him from across the lawn, Charlie took the initiative and hurried over. "Alastor?" she started tentatively, slowing in her steps at the last minute. "I, um… I'm sorry. About what I said yesterday."

"All water under the bridge, my dear," he assured with a flippant wave. "You were upset. I don't blame you for what you said."

Charlie nodded mutely as she fiddled her thumbs. She ducked her head from Alastor's smiling gaze. "I'm sorry about the Ouija board too," she muttered.

"And we'll take care of that in due time," Alastor said as he adjusted to a more formal position in his seat. "I apologize for my behavior as well. I let myself lose control last night," he said with a bitter scowl directed to no one but himself. "I endeavor to do better next time. Though, hopefully there won't be a next time."

"Oh. Uh, okay," Charlie responded.

Alastor leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "There's a lot I wish to discuss with you, Charlie, but we have a full docket on our schedule today so I'm afraid the depth of it will have to wait." He reached to pluck something from the table and it was only then that Lucifer noticed the gris-gris Alastor had been working on the night before. They looked different now, with intricate symbols drawn on every face of the pouch. The leather also looked stained, like it had been coated in colored liquid.

"Ouija boards are very dangerous," Alastor said, voice somber. "They're gateways to spirits, good and bad. If someone doesn't know how to use one, they can invite something evil into their house. That doesn't make Ouija boards evil, nor are you for using one," he assured. "But for the sake of your safety and the safety of this home, I'd rather you never bring one into this house again. Do you understand?"

Charlie's brows were furrowed but she nodded. Alastor then presented the pouch to her. "This is a gris-gris," he explained. "To my people, it's often made as a token of protection. They're meant to protect those we love from spirits that seek to do them harm." He pointed to one of the symbols. "These are vèvè. The ones I've drawn here are meant to bring a blessing from the Iwa – essentially my people's equivalent to God."

"Al?" Charlie gently interrupted.

He blinked at her. "Yes?"

"What do you mean by your people?"

Alastor chuckled. "I mean my family, dear. Those who still live down south." His smile turned wistful. "I'll explain all of that later, I promise. For now, I was hoping you'd do a favor for me."

Lifting the gris-gris, he went on to say, "Could you wear this for me? At least for a while. I made one for me and your father, too."

When Charlie hesitated, Lucifer stepped in beside her and crouched down on one knee. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he said, "You don't need to, of course. Not if it makes you feel uncomfortable."

"Yes, of course," Alastor agreed.

Lucifer reached forward and took one of the gris-gris from the table and clutched it tight. He met Alastor's eye and smiled before turning his attention to Charlie. "But we'd both appreciate it if you would."

Cautiously, Charlie reached out and took the offered gris-gris from Alastor. "You think I brought something evil into the house." It wasn't a question.

"Not at all," Alastor was quick to say, patting her shoulder. "This is all cautionary." He gestured to the lawn. "It's Halloween. Everyone is in danger of evil spirits on this night. If you want to go out and party, I'd feel better knowing you had this with you."

"So," Charlie said slowly, considering, "if I have this, I can go to the party tonight?"

"This isn't a bargain to be made," Alastor said. "You were right last night. I had no right to ground you without explaining everything first. I take responsibility for what happened."

"So do I," Lucifer butted in.

Alastor quirked a brow at him. There was a spark in his eye as he grinned. Turning his attention back to Charlie, he said, "So, you're not grounded. You're free to go to your party tonight."

Charlie's face lit up. "Really?!"

"But if you could do me the favor," he said, putting his hand over Charlie's to curl her fingers over the token, "of taking this with you, I'd be grateful."

"Sure!" Charlie shoved the gris-gris rather carelessly into her jacket pocket. "Thanks, Al!" She leapt forward and threw her arms around him. Alastor stiffened for only a moment before wrapping his arms around Charlie in return.

"Thank you, dear," he said with a gentle smile. "Now, you better give Vaggie a ring and let her know. The two of us need to run an errand but then the three of us have parties to get ready for."

"Oh, right! Vaggie!" That was all it took for Charlie to dismiss the severity of the moment and flee inside.

Alastor's smile deepened as he watched her go. "That was very conniving of you," he eventually said to Lucifer.

He blinked. "Conniving? What? Why?"

"Tricking Charlie like that." He poked the gris-gris held in Lucifer's hand. "You can't fool me. I know you don't care about this voodoo."

"What makes you think I don't care?" challenged Lucifer. "It matters to you, doesn't it?" Alastor quirked his head. "That means it matters to me. Man, you can be so dense sometimes." He rapped his knuckles against Alastor's thick skull. Alastor looked so stunned and put-out that Lucifer laughed raucously at the sight. "Aren't you a sight to behold!"

In retaliation, Alastor shot his hand out and wrapped his fingers around Lucifer's neck. He squeezed lightly, just enough to make his point but not enough to cause harm. "Aren't you a careless one?" he growled.

"I consider myself more reckless and endearing," Lucifer quipped back.

"Regardless," Alastor said, leaning in dangerously, "if you're so open about carrying that with you, then you should have no qualms with your costume tonight."

The bastard was still keeping it a secret even hours before they had to change for the party? "You stubborn prick," Lucifer bit back with a sneer, leaning in to glower into those rich, hazel eyes. "Just tell me what it is already."

"And where would be the fun in that?" he answered with a snarky grin. His voice dipped low. "I want to keep you hanging until you're begging for reprieve." His warm breath washed over Lucifer's chilled face.

Did this fucker have any idea the effect he had on Lucifer when he spoke like that? Lucifer's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, pressing against Alastor's grip, as he swallowed his temptation. "Don't make a threat that you can't deliver."

"Oh, I have every intention of leaving you gasping," Alastor remarked, smiling with all his teeth.

Lucifer couldn't stand it anymore. He leaned in and closed the gap as he hungrily devoured Alastor's mouth. The two exchanged heated kisses as Lucifer slotted himself between Alastor's legs and wrapped his arms around the man's neck. Alastor's grip on his throat loosened only so he could grasp at his hair instead, twisting and pulling Lucifer deeper into the kiss while the other rested on his waist.

Lucifer gasped for breath when they inevitably pulled apart. Both of Alastor's hands trailed up to cusp his cheeks. "You're so beautiful like this," he said, voice as soft as velvet, "with your rosy cheeks and tousled hair."

Lucifer felt himself blushing. It wasn't common when Alastor was in a flirtatious enough mood to deliver comments that could leave a man puddled.

"Ah," he said, his own caramel cheeks taking on a pink tinge, "yes, just like that." He leaned in again for another passionate kiss. And as Lucifer let himself melt under Alastor's warm touch and soft lips, he prayed to whatever god was out there that nothing could ever take this man and his daughter away from him.

A/N: Gris-gris are real talismans that are correlated to several faiths common in multiple counties. For this sake, this was referring to the kind typically associated with Luisiana voodoo practices. Unfortunately, regardless of whichever faith it's associated with, there is very little knowledge about it available to the public since it's more of a private ritual. I looked up several references and found contradictory testimonies on a few, but I have taken the logical leap that it's because it's been adapted through the generations to where it may be done differently in one household versus the next. As a result, I did take some creative liberties and minimized detailing the making of a gris-gris. If there's anyone who has first-hand experience, I would love to be educated. Those who do not, please take whatever I've written above as speculation and not fact on the practice.