milliways_bar | (no subject)

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lucifer morningstar

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Lucifer hurries through the door and stops abruptly as he realizes that he is Milliways and not at home.

He looks a little frazzled, but much better than last time he stopped by.

And he just orders a Scotch at the bar, not Atlantean.

He's in the middle of a crisis, true, but Mum isn't trying to kill him.
Apparently.
Now he just has to find her.
Again.

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"You look like you've had better days," says Ganymede, who looks rather like the same description might fit him. He looks happy enough, plaiting his hair back from his face so it will at least be out of the way; though several days old there are the fading imprints of bruises around wrist, bicep, and ankle, though the joints don't seem stiff or injured.

"All going well in the city of angels?"

"Well would be stretching it," Lucifer replies. "Mum had gone missing. Again. And this time she's got a credit card."

Some people might need some context for that.

That got him a gentle raised eyebrow. "Your mother, or someone else's?" he asked with a little chuckle. "What's the problem with the credit card?"

"Mine. The Goddess of All Creation. I've already tracked her down once, but that was when she was still getting used to the body she is using. And before she got hold of a credit card."

He groans.

"I have to find her again, and this time she will try to hide."

"Why the need to track her down?" Ganymede asked, sliding onto a barstool and ordering a drink as well; he gets a glass of bright golden liqueur that smells like cinnamon and honey.

"And why would the credit card pose such a problem?"

Lucifer sighs and drains his own glass.

It refills as soon as he puts it down.

"She escaped from Hell and Dad wants me to put her back in her cell. I figured that she'd be coming for me and she did, but she seemed fairly - calm. Then she figured out that I'd made arrangements with Dad and she left. In Maze's clothes and with a credit card. Which is a problem because we're in L.A. Money will get you anywhere."

He pauses to drink again. Eyes closed.

"Why can't he put her back himself if he wants her in Hell so bad?"

"Oh, he never gets his hands dirty. That's not his style."

He sounds bitter.

"Does he have a right to make it yours?" Ganymede asks, utterly unconcerned with the usual reverence and trappings given to gods.

"Don't forget I know something of powerful and arrogant gods too."

There's a tiny twitch just beneath Lucifer's fancy suit jacket.

"I - told him I would do what he wanted me to. It's a long story. I was dying and I wanted to make sure that Detective Decker would be - that she wouldn't be hurt."

It's obviously making him uncomfortable taking about it.

"I did not like that by the way. Dying."

"It is, manifestly, not a pleasant time, no," Ganymede replies lightly, little about his speech belying the experience he's had with it himself.

"But still. How will he know?"

Lucifer looks at him

"Omniscient. Omnipotent."

He takes another sip of his drink.

"Besides, I said I would, so -"

A shrug

"Are you going to say omnibenevolent next?" Ganymede asks; that's usually the phrase that follows omniscient and omnipotent, and is universally the one that makes him either laugh or tell someone to get the fuck out. Or both, in quick succession.

"You don't seem like you want to find her."

Lucifer laughs but there is no humour in it. "Omnicontrolling and omnishitty is more like it," he says. "And of course I don't want to find her. I was her jailor. And she's the Goddess of All Creation. All the diseases and natural disasters too."

Ganymede shakes his head slowly; mothers, he knows, will always love their children, but that doesn't necessarily mean that kind temperaments come with either condition. And he knows nothing of being related to a god by blood, much less the Christian ones.

"Can I take you mind off it while you're here?" he asks.

"Well, I won't promise it'll be successful, but I'm definitely up for giving it a serious go," Lucifer replies, his voice turning a little husky at the end of the sentence.

He probably isn't even doing it on purpose.

Ganymede lays a hand out for Lucifer to take, fingers gently curling against his palm. "Doesn't have to be like that," he chuckles. "But it can be if you'd like it. Drink or bath first?"

"Drinks in the bath?" Lucifer suggests, rubbing his thumb gently against Ganymede's skin.

"Drinks, kisses, bath foam?"

Ganymede smiles. "It sounds like a good order," he murmurs, curling his fingers around Lucifer's gently. "Your room, or mine?"

"Yours? Mine remind me too much about home right now."

And that would mean him looking over his shoulder all the time which would rather round the mood.

"Mine it is," Ganymede acquiesces lightly; he never minds people in his space, even if they're there just for conversation.

"Come on. It will at least be quiet and calm."

"Quiet and calm sounds surprisingly appealing," Lucifer murmurs, leaning against him.

"Then come with me," he replies, offering out a hand with a quiet smile as he accepts Lucifer's weight on his shoulder.

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