[Night]
Lucifer leaned back in the driver's seat of his 1962 Chevrolet Corvette C1, one hand resting lazily on the wheel while the other held an open can of cream soda. Music blasted through the speakers, filling the car as the city lights rolled past him.
A grin refused to leave his face.
The entire day had been absurd in the best possible way. He had spent hours driving across Los Angeles, stopping whenever something caught his attention. Expensive restaurants, luxury cafés, ridiculously overpriced desserts. Every time he paid the bill, some buried part of Karl still flinched before remembering that he was apparently one of the wealthiest men in the city now.
A pack of cream soda sat on the passenger seat beside him.
A simple drink that he couldn't afford in his past life.
Now he can afford all the cream sodas he wants.
Lucifer took another sip and laughed quietly to himself.
"Tastes great."
The Corvette roared down the road. He increased the speed and broke the speed limit. Then flashing red and blue lights appeared in the rearview mirror. A police motorcycle had switched on its siren and was closing the distance rapidly.
Lucifer glanced up, adjusted the mirror with two fingers, and saw a motorcycle cop pulling in behind him. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he eased the Corvette toward the side of the road. "Well, here we go. Season 1 Episode 1. The cop part." He tapped the steering wheel thoughtfully.
The officer climbed off his motorcycle and approached the driver’s side window, his voice raised over the music thundering from inside the car.
“CAN YOU TURN DOWN THE MUSIC, SIR?!”
Lucifer turned the volume down, letting sudden silence settle over the road. He looked up at the officer with an easy smile, as if being pulled over were simply another form of nightlife entertainment. 'Diggs.'
“You know what they say, Officer... If it’s getting too loud, you’re gettin’ too old.”
Officer Diggs did not look amused. He stood beside the window with one hand near his belt, his expression already sharpened by the kind of suspicion Los Angeles cops probably developed after too many late-night traffic stops.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
Lucifer’s smile widened slightly.
“Obviously you felt the need to exercise your limited power and punish me for ignoring the speed limit. It’s okay. I understand.”
He paused, that charming smile never leaving his face.
“I like to punish people too.”
For a moment, his expression shifted into something faintly wistful.
“Or at least I used to...”
Officer Diggs blinked once, clearly trying to decide what category of strange this man belonged in. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going?”
Lucifer gave a small shrug. “Haven’t a clue. I blame it on the Stones. They just make a man wanna drive, ya’ know what I mean?”
As he spoke, Lucifer’s gaze settled fully on the officer’s eyes.
The change was subtle at first. The night seemed to quiet around them, the ordinary irritation in Officer Diggs’ face loosening into something more thoughtful. His posture softened by a fraction, as if some hidden door in his mind had opened before he could stop it.
“Sometimes... I put my siren on, and drive really fast for no reason at all. Just ‘cause I can.”
Lucifer’s face lit with delighted understanding.
“Right?! And why wouldn’t you? It’s fun! Feels good to get away with something, doesn’t it?”
Diggs smiled despite himself. A small chuckle slipped out of him, honest enough to surprise him. For a second, he looked almost relieved by the confession, as if saying it aloud had scratched some old itch buried beneath the badge.
Then awareness returned.
The smile faded. His brows pulled together as he realized he had just shared something deeply inappropriate with a complete stranger in a sports car.
Lucifer only looked pleased.
“It’s okay, Officer. People like to tell me things. Those deep, dark, naughty little desires that’re really on their minds. It's a gift. Must be something about this face.”
Officer Diggs straightened, forcing himself back into professional shape.
“License and registration.”
“Coming right up...”
Lucifer reached into his wallet, but instead of producing the requested documents, he pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and offered it through the window as casually as someone passing over a restaurant tip.
Officer Diggs stared at the money.
“Are you trying to bribe me, sir?”
Lucifer looked genuinely untroubled by the accusation.
“Yes, of course. Why, is that not enough? Here, take more, it’s only money.”
He added more cash to the offer, completely unconcerned by the way the officer’s expression tightened.
“It’s against the law, sir.”
Lucifer tilted his head slightly, studying him with amused curiosity.
“You people are funny about your laws. You break the law sometimes, don’t you?”
The officer nodded before he seemed to realize he was doing it. The motion looked almost involuntary, pulled from him by something deeper than ordinary conversation.
Lucifer leaned in a fraction.
“Do tell.”
Officer Diggs swallowed, but the words came out anyway.
“Sometimes I’ll pull a woman over for a minor infraction and get her to flash me a little somethin’.”
Lucifer’s smile turned sharper.
“You dirty dog you...”
The officer continued, his voice dropping with the uneasy honesty of a man hearing himself confess and failing to stop.
“Sometimes I let her off with a warning. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes other stuff happens...”
Lucifer’s amusement faded just enough for something colder to pass through his eyes. He shook his head slowly, looking at the badge, the uniform, and the man wearing both.
“LA’s finest...”
Then his gaze shifted back toward the money still held between them.
“You’re tempted to keep that, aren’t you?”
Officer Diggs nodded again, helplessly this time.
Lucifer’s smile returned, polished and dangerous.
“So what are you waiting for? Permission? Keep it! Buy yourself something pretty. You deserve it. But if you don’t mind, I really must be on my way...”
The officer hesitated for only a moment before taking the money and sliding it into his pocket. Once he did, his expression smoothed over as if the entire situation had rearranged itself into something perfectly acceptable.
“Okay, sir, you have a nice evening.”
Lucifer placed both hands lightly on the wheel and gave him a charming nod.
“You too, Officer.”
Officer Diggs walked back toward his motorcycle, leaving Lucifer alone in the Corvette. The engine purred beneath him, patient and hungry, while the city waited ahead in glittering silence.
"You too..."
Lucifer adjusted the mirror again.
For one impossible instant, the reflection staring back at him was wrong.
Something ancient flickered beneath the handsome face, something burned and monstrous and far too real to belong in glass. It appeared so quickly that most human eyes would have dismissed it as a trick of passing light, but Lucifer saw it clearly.
Then it was gone.
Only his familiar face remained in the mirror, elegant and amused, with a little devilish look lingering in his eyes.
He stared at his reflection for another second before the corner of his mouth lifted.
The officer behind him had no idea what kind of mercy he had just received. Some rotten part of Lucifer had wanted to tell him exactly where corrupt little men with badges and appetites ended up, but surprises had their own charm.
"Maze is gonna love breaking that fucker," Lucifer mumbled as he turned the music back on.
The Corvette pulled away from the curb and rolled back into the Los Angeles night, leaving Officer Diggs, the flashing lights, and one more ugly human confession behind him.
After a moment of driving.
The city lights reflected across the windshield as Lux appeared in the distance.
Somewhere ahead, if everything followed the story he remembered, a young pop star named Delilah would soon walk through his doors.
Lucifer's expression changed into something more serious.
"Don't worry."
The Corvette accelerated toward the glowing nightclub.
"This time, you're making it out alive."
---
[LUX]
Lux was alive before Lucifer even stepped through the doors.
The bass rolled through the building like a second heartbeat, deep enough to vibrate through the floor beneath his shoes. Colored lights swept across the crowd in slow, sinful arcs, catching on glass, jewelry, bare skin, and the glittering surfaces of expensive bottles. People moved together beneath the music, laughing, drinking, dancing, and losing little pieces of themselves beneath the warm glow of temptation.
Lucifer walked in like the entire club had been waiting for him.
'I love my new life,' He thought.
Heads turned almost immediately. People recognized him instantly as he walked further inside. Some girls started winking and throwing air kisses, hoping to get lucky tonight. Lucifer smiled as he passed them, accepting the attention with an ease that still felt strange somewhere deep inside him.
'Fuck! So much plastic. Ohh,' He thought as his eyes went toward one of the celebrities. 'Margot Robbie?! Okay. I'll get to you later.' He continued to look around.
The place breathed indulgence from every corner. Bottles flashed behind the bar, strippers moved across raised platforms, and the air smelled of perfume, alcohol, sweat, and money. Men and women leaned too close to one another in shadowed corners while bartenders worked at an almost impossible pace.
Lucifer's gaze moved instinctively toward the bar.
Then he paused.
Maze was there.
She wasn't behind the counter.
She was sitting on a stool with one long leg crossed over the other, a drink resting between her fingers while she watched the crowd with lazy interest. Tonight, she wore a black party dress that fit her like danger had learned tailoring. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, and the sharp curve of her smile suggested she had already made several people reconsider their life choices.
Lucifer blinked once.
'Huh.'
That was different.
According to the original chain of events, Maze should have been behind the bar right now, entertaining herself with some poor man on his knees while treating it as casually as mixing a cocktail. Instead, she was sitting out in the open, drinking alone, looking far more controlled than she had any right to be after their earlier conversation.
The thought settled inside his mind with a strange little spark of satisfaction.
'Butterfly effect has started. Nice.'
Maze noticed him immediately.
Her eyes slid over him from head to toe, taking in the suit, the relaxed smile, and the faint amusement still lingering across his face. She lifted her glass slightly in greeting, though her expression said she had been waiting longer than she wanted to admit.
"You finally came back," she said as he reached the bar.
Lucifer leaned one elbow against the counter and gave her his best smile. "Careful, Maze. That almost sounded like you missed me."
Maze took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his. "I missed being entertained. There's a difference."
"Of course there is," Lucifer replied, placing one hand over his chest as if deeply wounded. "And here I thought our connection had finally entered a new emotional era."
Maze gave him a dry look. "Say that again and I'll stab you somewhere decorative."
Lucifer chuckled and signaled the bartender for a drink. "There she is. I was beginning to worry all this waiting had made you sentimental."
Maze leaned slightly closer, resting her elbow on the bar while her gaze sharpened. "You told me to keep my schedule free tonight."
"I did."
"You made it sound important."
"It is."
Maze's eyes narrowed, though the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "Then why are we still talking?"
Lucifer accepted the glass from the bartender and took a sip before answering. "Because anticipation is a sadly underappreciated art."
Maze stared at him for a second, then laughed softly under her breath. "You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
"You're also stalling."
Lucifer tilted his head with a thoughtful expression. "Possibly."
Maze set her glass down and turned fully toward him now, all amusement and threat wrapped together in one dangerous package. "When are we going upstairs?" She said before licking her red lips. "I'm soaking wet right now."
'Holy shit!' Lucifer's smile widened, though he kept his voice calm. "Have patience, Maze."
Her expression flattened immediately.
"Patience isn't my strongest suit."
"No," Lucifer said with a small nod. "You tend to approach delayed gratification with the same enthusiasm demons reserve for holy water."
Maze slid off the stool and stepped close enough that he caught the faint scent of alcohol, smoke, and something darker beneath it. "Keep talking like that and I might decide to stop waiting."
Lucifer looked down at her with a playful gleam in his eyes. "Promises, promises."
For a second, neither of them moved.
The music continued pounding around them. Bodies shifted and danced beneath the lights, laughter rising through the air in waves. Yet the space between Lucifer and Maze felt strangely still, charged with something sharper than simple flirtation. Maze watched him as if trying to decide whether to kiss him, hit him, or drag him upstairs by his tie and just fuck him.
Lucifer wisely chose to gulp down his drink. 'Phew! That was strong. And... the effect is gone. Fuck! Can't even get drunk properly.'
Maze huffed, then turned away with visible effort.
"Fine," she said. "If I'm being forced to wait, I'm drinking."
Before Lucifer could answer, Maze placed one hand on the bar and vaulted cleanly over it with inhuman grace. She landed behind the counter and grabbed two fresh glasses from the shelf.
Lucifer leaned against the bar and watched her move with a grin.
"That was entirely unnecessary."
Maze pulled a bottle down and began pouring. "So is most of what happens in this club, except for sex."
"Fair point."
She filled the first glass, then as she finished filling the second one.
Then, something strange happened.
The music stretched into a deep, distorted groan. Laughter froze halfway through the air. A dancer's hair hung suspended in motion beneath the lights. Drops of alcohol hovered above the counter where someone had spilled a drink. The entire club slowed until every moving body became little more than a sculpture trapped inside an unfinished moment.
Lucifer felt it immediately. 'Here he comes.'
Maze's hand stopped around the bottle, though she remained free to move. Her eyes sharpened, all flirtation vanishing beneath pure instinct. She looked around the frozen club, then slowly set the bottle down against the counter.
Her gaze shifted toward the entrance.
"I think you have a visitor."
Lucifer followed her eyes through the suspended sea of dancers, drinks, smoke, and colored light. Near the front doors, a bald man in a dark coat walked slowly into Lux as though the frozen world belonged to him. His movements were calm, and completely untouched by the time-stillness gripping everyone else.
He leaned against the bar, sliding a drink toward Amenadiel with a grin. “Amenadiel! How’s it hanging, big guy? Didn’t you see the sign? ‘No angels allowed’? No? I’ll make an exception for you, on the house.”
Amenadiel ignored the drink, taking in the bustling atmosphere of Lux. “You’ve become quite ensconced with this little hobby of yours,” he said, his voice calm but heavy with disapproval.
Lucifer gave a polite nod. “Thank you.”
Amenadiel’s expression darkened. “Your return to the Underworld has been requested.”
Lucifer raised an eyebrow, mockingly flipping through a nonexistent calendar. “Oh, okay, let me check. Yep, here it is. The seventh of Never through the fifteenth of Ain’t Gonna Happen. How’s that work for you guys?”
Amenadiel did not flinch or smile. He simply stared, grim and unamused.
Lucifer chuckled lightly. “I’m consistently surprised by the whole no sense of humor thing. Look, remind Dad I quit Hell because I was sick and tired of playing a part in his play. I believe in free will, not that tyranny of all his predestination hoo-ha.”
Amenadiel’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll warn you against disrespecting Our Father.”
Lucifer shrugged, voice casual. “Yeah, well, Our Father’s been disrespecting me since the beginning of time, so pot and kettle. Don’t you think?”
“You are a mockery of everything divine,” Amenadiel said flatly.
“Thank you!” Lucifer replied, smiling. “But lately, I’ve been doing a fair amount of thinking. Do you think I’m the Devil because I’m inherently evil, or simply because dear ol’ Dad decided I was? Isn’t this a classic case of labeling?”
Amenadiel’s gaze sharpened. “What do you think happens when the Devil leaves Hell? All those demons, those tormented souls, where do they go?”
Lucifer waved a hand. “Don’t know, don’t care, not my problem.”
Amenadiel said nothing, staring at him intently. Lucifer downed his brother’s drink, locking eyes with him. Cold as ice, he said, “Tell Father, I’m not going back.” A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.
The air between them thickened. “Consider the position officially open. So you, my feathered friend, can go to hell.”
Amenadiel reacted instantly. In a blink, his wing-tip was at Lucifer’s throat, the ancient steel fused at its edges. Before Amenadiel could react, Lucifer grabbed him by the throat with one hand and lifted him into the air. His devil face flashed for a moment. Even Amenadiel seemed shocked by the sheer strength radiating from Lucifer, a glimpse of the old Devil.
Maze watched from the bar, eyes wide and thrilled at the display. 'We're gonna fuck till morning.'
“Why the long face, brother?” Lucifer asked lightly, holding him suspended. 'Bloody Hell! I knew I was strong, but this... All this time... Don't tell me, Lucifer was holding back all this time?! Why? Or, did I get a power boost from the big guy?'
Amenadiel’s expression twisted with fury, but he knew that their father wouldn't allow them to kill each other.
Eventually, he set Amenadiel down. 'Alright, this will definitely create another butterfly effect. Damn it! I felt so angry for a moment. Haaa... Well, I guess I can't keep on going with the OG flow anymore. It'll kill the meaning for this second chance and some of the conversation seems different from the show. Alright then, let's go OC mode, starting now.' He thought.
“Huh? It would seem that you’ve gotten soft, brother,” Lucifer remarked casually. 'Don't tell me that you've been skipping your training sessions?"
Amenadiel rubbed his neck, still confused by Lucifer's strength. “He has been patient for five years. He will not be merciful much longer.” Then, without another word, he disappeared from Lux, and the club resumed its usual rhythm.
Maze leaned against the bar. “You didn’t tell him about the signs from your Dad?”
Lucifer smirked, turning toward her. “And ruin the little surprise?”
He lifted his glass in a mock toast, and the city outside continued to pulse with life, unaware of the subtle chaos and defiance that had just unfolded inside Lux.
--
Next Chapter: Hello, Detective