Author's Note: I am trying to look up the right codes for the job scenes, but every source says something different. So beware, I'm likely unbelievably incorrect. Also, any reader will quickly find five names, which I wrote at random. If people with these legal names exist, it is coincidence.

Ella was jolted awake by her alarm clock which, as she was stumbling around the room with her pants around her knees in search of her shirt, she realized she didn't have to set. She grabbed her phone and turned it off, remembering that she was off-duty and ordered to read. An entire book, yawn. Cover to cover, memorize the sequence of every letter, yawn, snore. Why couldn't she have been smart, with a safety net career and a safety net safety net? But no, she had to follow her stupid heart!

She finally pulled up her pants and grabbed her shirt, which was a tangled mess, almost knotted around itself. She shook her head and sighed, casting a glance at her closed bathroom door; approaching it, she knocked. "Dallas! I...have work," she lied, and finally straightening her top she pulled it on.

The door opened, and her latest bad idea, definitely giving off bad guy vibes, leaned on the doorway. He, too, was shirtless, and very nicely built. He looked at the digital clock by her bed. "If you're already late, what's the rush?"

"Well, I'm trying not to be more late."

He chuckled as she threw his shirt at him, beaning him in the head. "Sorry. You gotta go."

"Okay, alright. But it was fun, right?"

"Totes. We should do it again."

He left, and with nothing better than reading to do, Ella lingered by the curtain and watched him leave on his motorbike. Sighing, Ella grabbed the Rook Book and walked past the door, taking a second to lock it and turn off the light before retreating to the couch; turning on her lamp, she muttered to herself, "I guess this counts as work. Should, right?"

She sat and opened the book. "Written by Margo Tellerman, Sasha Prince, Mike Bealy, Wayne Gable, and Kevin Rumpp. Oh," she grunted, "Must be a big job. That's not at all daunting."

"You can do it."

Ella was so accustomed to hearing voices, she didn't jump at the noise, merely frowning at the intrusion. She flipped to the first page, expectantly asking, "What are you doing here?"

"I...came to see my friend, it's been awhile."

At the F word, Ella tossed the book onto the adjacent cushion and stood up to face the petite angel. "We are not friends...Azrael," Ella added, with a tone that implied her name tasted bad.

Azrael pulled a mortified face, drawing back her head. "Oh. Uh...did Lucifer tell you?" she squeaked.

"I...extorted the truth from him at Maze's wedding."

"Really―you?"

"Get out."

For a moment both women stood there staring at each other, as they tried to comprehend a wee little mortal telling off an angel. Ella was the first to recover; it wasn't the first time she had done so (though, granted, the information that she had been socializing with celestials for several years was relatively new). Turning away from Azrael, she sat back down and picked up the book. When she could still feel Azrael's presence, she huffed a sigh and added more of her typical Ella kindness to her voice as she amended, "Please get out."

It didn't really sound much better.

It took the span of two breaths to hear Azrael's departing steps; then they abruptly stopped, and her voice said, "You'll have to meet the Angel of Death sometime..."

Ella cranked her head painfully around, but the pesky angel was gone. After taking an uncomfortable moment to try and gather herself, she picked up the Rook Book, if only to stare incomprehensively at it for a while before taking out her cell phone.

At least she could count on Decker, who answered halfway through the second ring.

"Feel like goin' out tonight?"

"Damn," Ella said to herself, upon observing Decker's 877-427E plate. "Here I am trying to be early."

She eked into the nearest parking space, grabbed her purse and got out of her car, heading towards the single-storey, ugly-ass bar. Decker was easy to spot, wearing the same jacket and the same bouncy ponytail as ever. Next to her was Linda, her bubbly giggle attracting the attention of a small group of bros in the back. Ella's heart ached again for Dan as she visualized him coming up to Decker with a line and accidentally spilling on her before he could use it...and the rest was history. Maybe she was getting snockered over her dad and maybe he drove her home... Could have been a cute story for the grandkids. If only he hadn't been a hero.

She approached the old gang and sat down; it was only her comment to the bartender that got her friends' attention. Well, her friend, and the other woman she liked who would soon be analyzing her career change! Groovy. Why had she been invited? Unless they were both going to pick her apart, Decker was a detective after all...

"Just water?" Decker was asking. "You invite us to a bar when you're on sabbatical, you're single again, and you just want water?"

It was starting already. So much for a fun night out.

"I went drinking last night," Ella confessed. "Now I need to buckle down, get started on this book the sergeant gave me..."

"Sergeant Hunkyface?" Decker asked, and failed in her attempt to suppress a smile.

"About that―from now on, you call me. I did a thing yesterday and somehow our phone call was all over the precinct."

"Oh my," Linda said, her voice barely audible as she didn't even look Ella's way. Clearly used to hearing embarrassing things.

Decker was gawking in horror. "But you... We talked about Lucifer on that phone call."

"Yep. I'm hoping they think we were using code names."

"Yeah! Here's hoping!"

"I'm sorry. I have no friggin idea how I did that. It was stupid! Perfect way to end my rotten day; everything that could go wrong did. I-I put my uniform on and forgot to take my wallet out first so I would've had to undress in the lunch room if Officer Chen hadn't saved my butt. I stood up to myself with Bradford and he told me to scrub the urinals, and I met a little boy who lost his father, his uncle, and his dream―of following in their footsteps. Not to mention I made myself look like an idiot, repeatedly."

Her glass was served then and she accepted it from the waiter's hand with an air of misery.

"You know, so what if somebody believes I know the Devil? They'll either accept it, with difficulty or with ease, or they'll kill themselves. I don't care anymore."

"I know you care about something," Linda piped up. "Perhaps failure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I want to stick this out. I mean, I have experience at crime scenes, I can hold a gun, and I know I'm good with snappy superiors. Though apparently my door-holding skills need work," she added in a grumble, casting her water yet another uncertain glance. "I didn't think I would be, but I'm really happy at Mid-Wilshire."

Linda turned her head to the left, looking past Decker to see her finally drink. "You know where I'm happy?" she asked, and swiveled in her barstool. "Lux. I miss Lux. What are we doing in this dump?" she practically whined, and suddenly looked back at the attentive bartender. "It's lovely."

"Lady," he smirked, "I don't own the place. It's a dump."

She winked at him and looked back out among the unsatisfying view of the other miserable people, sitting at their tables and trying to drink their problems away. "Lux," she breathed. "Dancing, partying, cheering... Nobody's happy here, there's not even a karaoke machine!"

"Yeah, explain that to me," Decker said, eyeballing Ella. "You dumped Carol, you're avoiding Lux, you quit your job. You gonna cut us out of your life, too?"

"I didn't cut anyone, okay? Dan died, Lucifer went to Hell, you left. I don't want to go back to Lux, or our precinct," she enunciated with a defining gesture, "Because it just...it makes me sad, okay? It makes me sick. I mean, ev-even Carol, okay, who I met through Dan. There's too many ghosts, okay? I would get into my office, with-with...a phone to hack into, or a license plate to run, or a COD to determine and all I could think about were the ghosts. And I don't mean Dan's ghost, okay, or...or Charlotte's ghost," for a moment her roll slowed as she frowned, feeling a chill run down her spine. "Whoo. Anyway. I just, I couldn't do it anymore."

"Divorcing your habits," Linda said. "Very common."

"Does it help?"

"Sometimes. But like on...on rare occasions. Whatever you take on has to be equally as important to you as whatever you give up. It has to be an even trade. Think of it as budgeting," Linda advised. "If you spend more than you get, your credit will be ruined."

"I hate divorce," Decker murmured.

"At least you got to taste it before you became a widow," Linda blurted, and shot her a horrified look. "Sorry."

"Maybe I should go into work tomorrow," Ella murmured. "Guess I could learn on the job."

"Have you ever learned on the job before?" Linda asked.

"No. Been doing forensic work since I was 23. I mean, I babysat a couple times, but not enough to make a living."

"And how many cars can you steal before you need to make a change?" Linda asked, and blinked, looking down at her glass as her smile faded. "I'm a mean drunk," she observed, and swiveled back around in her seat to set it down.

"Nope. You're right. My not-so-grand auto theft days are just a part of my life I have to accept. Can't take it back, but I can always do better." Ella bobbed her head, trying to grin. "Can't count the therapists who gave me that gem."

Linda tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"Thought I'd save you from saying it," Ella joked.

Linda's effort to smile faded, and she grimaced at the counter as one hand returned to her glass.

Decker leaned in closer quietly inform Ella, "Amenadiel moved back into The Silver City two nights ago; he took Charlie to meet his aunts and uncles."

Ella felt a pang of guilt; two nights ago she had called in fake-sick to eat breakup ice cream in bed and try to not think about relocating. Of course she had come across a weary devil show, and ended up crying for Lucifer instead, courtesy of her stupid heart again. She took a deep drink, feeling her face flush in embarrassment at her own self-absorbed inconsideration; she was hoping that someone else would speak before she came up for air, but neither of them did, so she finally muttered, "I'm sorry, Linda."

"No, it's... I'm fine. I appreciate the perspective Amenadiel's given me."

Ella was already looking at her, and Decker turned her head to the right to do the same.

"My parents got divorced when I was nine. My father moved to Thousand Oaks. Took me less than an hour to get between houses, but back then it was like... 'I'll never get there.' I... No matter how many times I went from his place to hers, and her place to his, I always thought that. Whenever I forgot something at the other house, I was screwed! All month," she shrugged and hopelessly added, "My son's not even on Earth."

"Can he even do that?" Decker asked.

"I mean, there are no laws―" Linda's voice abruptly stopped, and she interrupted herself with, "But he is Amenadiel's son, too."

She was picking up the glass again when she cringed, setting it back down with a shuddering exclamation like there was a spider in her glass.

"What?" Ella asked.

"Well, since he's God, I just... I-I guess I'm Amenadiel's daughter."

The counter was quiet, until Ella snorted, and finally the tension broke and they laughed.

"Dude, that is fucked up!" Ella said.

"So disturbing!" Linda chortled.

"Well, at least in a way we're sisters," Decker observed.

"Yeah. But with, like, a really hot dad," Ella said, and Decker covered her face. She smiled, watching her go red as Linda began chugging. "See... I could never cut you out. That makes me sick, too; I mean, you're not ghosts. You're here. And not seeing my tribe? Or Trixie?"

Decker lowered her fingers, looking tearfully at Ella.

"I'd be in debt for the rest of my life."

Decker picked up her glass and clinked each of theirs. "To tribes," she said, echoing a toast from long ago.

"To tribes," Ella echoed, and Linda echoed Ella.

Ella raised the glass to her lips and quickly muttered, "And hot dads."

"I can't believe you didn't get smashed tonight." Decker shook in her head in wonder. "The timing was perfect."

Ella grinned, waiting for Decker to get out. "Decker," she suddenly said. "Hey, do you know what happened to Lieutenant Pierce?"

"Marcus? He, um, he died, Ella."

"What?" Ella whispered.

Decker paused, closing the car door again and relaxing back in her seat. She took a moment, knowing that her words could have an impact on how they viewed the love of her life, then turned back around to reluctantly meet Ella's dark eyes. "Uh... Well, you're religious," she stated, and Ella nodded. "So you know Cain?"

"Yeah, dude killed his brother. But what does that have to do with Lieutenant Pierce?"

Linda watched carefully, her squinted, confused eyes alternating women.

"Pierce was Cain. And Lucifer..." Decker paused to draw in a deep, semi-drunken breath. "Killed him to stop him from killing me."

"What?" Ella shouted.

"Yeah. He, Cain," she clarified, "Shot me, and I woke up on a rooftop out of harm's way." She shook her head, trying to recall all that she could. "But I wasn't going to let my partner go into battle by himself, so I found my way back into the building. That's when I saw Lucifer's face." She couldn't help but cringe a little as she remembered going to Kinley to try and send him away. "When I got there, he was kneeling over Marcus' body. He had a blade in his heart."

"Holy crap!" Linda exclaimed from the backseat.

"Wait, one of Maze's blades?"

"Yep. And as it turned out, Marcus was under some curse of immortality. He and Lucifer worked together for...weeks, probably, trying to figure out how to make him mortal so that he could die."

"How the hell do you kill an immortal?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Linda asked. "Lift the curse!"

"Which is why Lucifer put Abel's soul into a living body. He was alive, not murdered, making Cain innocent. But that didn't work."

"Well, in the movies, it's always love," Linda guessed. "Was that it?"

"Yes. At one point Marcus and I were engaged," she informed Linda.

"Yeah, I'm glad that fell through," Ella muttered. "Wait, he killed Charlotte and tried killing you―was he coming after all of us?"

"No, I don't think he... Well, he did try to kill Maze," Decker interrupted herself thoughtfully. Realizing she had to make Lucifer look real good, she added, "I don't know, maybe. Maybe! But it doesn't matter. Lucifer took care of everything."

"He must have," Ella grumped, "Considering how long it took for us to know."

Decker's eyes went from one friend to the other, seeing the mix of obvious horror and quiet judgment on their faces; then she took a quick breath and asked Ella, "How-how did we get onto me? We were talking about you. You, and you," she added, looking at Linda.

"Right, and now we're not," Ella said. "Not to minimize what Linda's going through, but your boyfriend trying to kill you kind of takes precedence over a baby bird leaving the nest. Uh, pardon the phrasing."

"No. No, it doesn't take precedence," Decker said, sounding like she believed otherwise herself.

"I think it does," Linda firmly disagreed. "I mean, I always knew Charlie was going to be torn between two worlds. This? This is crazy. How do you live with that?"

"Mmm, a lot of nightmares. And now that all the unkillable celestials are out of my life, I'm really just trying to stay out of trouble."

Her partially-inebriated chuckles died and for a moment the car was quiet.

"Hell, man," Ella shook her head. "Literally Heaven and Hell. I can't believe it. I mean, all that talk about being controlled; why would he go back?"

"He wanted to help souls get into Heaven."

Ella stared for a moment, then shook her head. "That's crap."

"What? Crap? What do you mean it's crap? Isn't it nice?"

"No, it's crap. Think I'd rather go to where people are working on self-improvement, than a place where the worst thing they've ever done has been forgiven. I mean, why sit across from a redeemed Hitler, if I could sit next to somebody who's feeling guilty over ghosting someone?"

"So you would rather go to Hell? Like forever?" Decker asked, stunned.

"Where people still have a conscience? How could I not?"

"But you're religious!" Linda vehemently piped up, "And we're talking Heaven!"

Ella didn't like her tone. But as her designated driver, she would be remiss to kick her out. She tried to keep her voice from matching Linda's. "Heaven sounds pretty damn hellish to me. I mean, people like Dan get stuck on earth to look at their lives without living them, and people like Vincent LeMec can have the best day of their life for eternity? How terrible can a god be?"

"Okay, what happened to Dan was a tragic mistake, and LeMec..." Decker paused, thoughtfully moving her head. "Well, yeah, he might get into Heaven one day."

"And all hell will break loose when Dan sees him. Don't want to be there, don't want you there, don't want Dan there. I mean, if anyone can get into Heaven, then what's the point of Hell?"

"Well, their own guilt is what's keeping them down there," Decker said.

"Then what's the point of redemption? Nothing even matters."

"Oh, that is so not what I want to hear from a cop," Linda groaned.

"Ella, are you going to be okay tonight?" asked the drunken Decker. Her tone implied she was well aware of the irony.

"You mean will I kill myself? You can relax. I'm too scared of ending up in Heaven to do anything drastic, so yeah. I'll be okay tonight."

Decker got out of the car and shut the door, walking to her house and visibly shaking her head, making her ponytail bounce. Ella didn't drive away, watching instead to make sure Decker got inside. Then Linda came clambering over the seats to take Decker's place.

Decker let herself in and Ella began to drive. She was unnaturally quiet, avoiding looking at Linda and gripping the steering wheel so tight, it whitened her knuckles; then she reached up to clasp the chain around her neck and rip it off. It wasn't like she needed faith anyway. Letting the chain and cross pendant fall down into the darkness, she slumped back in her seat and continued to drive in complete silence.

Linda tore her eyes off of her, but inevitably glanced back at the stranger in her friend's place. "I'm so― You are taking me home, right?"

Ella spared her grim, frightened smile a fleeting glance. "Unless you want to go to your office... Write about me."

"I'm not going to do that. But I do recommend a session."

"Oh," she laughed, "Of course you do. I'm off my rocker, because I'm thinking."

"I'm not calling you crazy. Just that some things that you said and your behavior lately has raised some...issues for me."

"If you have issues, maybe you need to go to therapy."

"Home, please," Linda said hastily, and was similarly quiet for the rest of the ride.

Finally, Ella got to her own house, and she rushed towards the front door thinking finally, finally, she was alone. Until she opened the door. The smile dropped off her face.

"Told you so," Azrael trilled apologetically.

Ella stepped further in, shutting and locking the door. "Well, I made it home," she told the door, "And the most drastic thing I feel like doing is throwing the Rook Book at you, so I'll ask again. Why are you here?"

She looked over her shoulder when the angel was quiet, glad she hadn't sounded as frightened as she felt.

"I watched you."

"Wow. That's...totally not creepy."

"I watched you dump Carol, leave the precinct, and have a bad day working with Tim. It's kind of obvious you're struggling and under pressure...and we've known each other for 33 years, and if you don't want to be my friend, then at least let me help you with your...homework."

"Really?"

Azrael tilted her head. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but ghosts are kind of my thing."

"Thanks," Ella sighed, meandering towards the couch. "The sooner I get back in the game, the better."

She sat down with a sigh, trying to focus on the book as the angel sat next to her. She tilted her head in a creeped-out manner, then gave her an appraising look. "I'm sorry, I just... After 30 years of thinking you were a ghost, sometimes it's hard for me to remember you're not dead."

Azrael tried to laugh it off, sobering when she realized Ella was not in a whimsical mood. "I'm...really sorry I lied. I didn't think a child should know everything, I mean, since kids are so―"

"Gullible? Naïve?" she interrupted, and shook her head at the demanding Rook Book in her hands. She was also in no mood to be insulted. "You could have told me a weird truth, and you thought tricking me was better. But nobody would have believed me anyway!"

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

"You deluded me." Ella looked at her, honestly too pissed to care she was crying. "You are the reason I was the last one in the dark!"

Sudden hatred for the angel swelled up from inside the darkness all her own, and she was suddenly hitting her with the book. "Get out! Get out, get out, ¡y no vuelvas! ¡Vete!"

Azrael stood and Ella lunged to her feet. But in the less-than-a-second her eyes had shot down, the angel had vanished, and the book swung only at air. Panting with trembling breaths, Ella stood up straight, her eyes roaming over every shadow in the room.

She stood up straight, eyes narrowing, then tucked the book under her arm and shut off the lamp by her couch. Plopping the book on her counter island, she filled a little bowl with Pretzels and then carried the book towards her bedroom. "I am sick of Azrael," she said. "Mad at Decker and Linda, so I..." She flicked on her bedroom light. "Am just going to go into work tomorrow, ignore the whole 10-7 deal, and just learn on the job! I'm damn sure not the first one and I cannot stay in my room for several weeks just reading the same book, over and over and I am not a prisoner!" she yelled, with such intensity that she squeaked. "So that settles it. I'm gonna go into work tomorrow and I'm gonna... I'm gonna give 'em hell."

Her heart ached at the mere expression. Ignoring it, she started getting comfortable on her stomach. "Okay," she sighed, "Written by Margo Tellerman, Sasha Prince, Mike Bealy, Wayne Gable, and Kevin Rumpp..."