His Baby Girl worked away, filling in the cards he had given her, seemingly unfazed by all the information Lucifer told her. Despite her claims to be an atheist who died, went to heaven, betrayed God, and as punishment, was forced to marry a devil and live in Hell for all eternity. Guess not much surprised her anymore.

He looked back at the financial records of East City on his screen before scribbling down a response to Duke Prangarth's request. Lucifer moved on to the following letter and responded, followed by another, till a stack of envelopes replaced the letters. He placed those into his outbox, which would be picked up and delivered tomorrow, before grabbing a new stack of papers. These were issues brought to court by individuals that couldn't be taken care of by the Dukes or Duchesses, usually because the complaints were against them or problems out of the Duke's and Duchess' control. He responded to a few of them, dismissing one silly quarrel and setting up a hearing for the other two,

"For fuck sake!" He snapped, reading over the new letter in his hands.

"What's wrong?" She quickly asked, and he admittedly forgot she was in the room for a moment.

"Nothing, it's just this woman." He sighed, rubbing his eyes as she grabbed the last card from the stack, "Over the last few years, a woman in West City has somehow managed to get letters through to me complaining about her neighbors. I seriously think my father passes them along from court to annoy me." He grumbled.

"Court?" She questioned.

"Umhum. Once a week, my father holds an open court where he hears the complaints of those who feel their problem isn't being addressed appropriately by their local enforcers. He will then decide whether the issue is legitimate, and if it is, he passes it along to me, and then I decide how to handle the situation." He explained, leaning back in his chair.

"So, what's this lady's problem?" She inquired.

"Many things Baby Girl, if I remember correctly, the first ones were about her neighbor's pet which would yack early every morning, waking her up, she also claimed it shit in her yard, and the owners wouldn't pick it up," He sighed getting up to pour himself a drink.

"Yack? Like, throw up?" She questioned.

"Throw up? Like a ball?" He returned, confused.

"No, like puke…vomit?" She tried to clarify.

"Oh, vomit. No yack is the sound the creature makes. It literally sounds like a small child screaming the word yack, and though very annoying, that is not a situation I should be handling. That is for her local authority to handle." He explained, holding up a glass to her questioningly to receive a nod, "As I said, I have no idea how her letters were getting through, but eventually they stopped, or so I thought. A few months later, new neighbors who didn't keep up their yard well enough, then there were the disrespectful kids, the young couple with loud music, and the city workers tipping over her trash can and not picking it up. She even sent me a letter saying her water tasted funny. However, our newest issue is that she think's someone is poisoning her flowers because they keep dying for no reason." He yawned, returning to his desk and handing her a glass as she stacked the last notecard.

"You should visit the cranky old lady. Maybe all she wants is to see her Prince." She joked, getting up to replace the books.

"Are you kidding? That old lady scares me. I've been ignoring her for a couple of years. No telling what kind of timeout she has in store for me." He replied, catching her off guard and causing her to laugh.

It was a genuine, adorable laugh. A bit high-pitched, with a little snort at the end. He smiled at her as she blushed and collected herself,

"So I'm done with the cards. Do you need anything else?" She asked, sitting back down across from him and picking up her glass to take a sip.

"Yes, actually, I have a bit more work to do, and some music would help. Will you play for me?" He requested.

"Sure, I haven't played in a while. What would you like me to play?" She replied sweetly as she crossed the room to grab the violin case.

"Whatever you like, Baby Girl." He replied, turning back to his work as she pulled out the instrument and got ready.

Finally, she began to play, but the song that reached his ears was unfamiliar. He liked it but didn't know it, which pulled him from his work as he tried to place it. A few minutes and an impressive three sentences later, the song ended, "What was that song?" He demanded.

"Did you not like it?" She asked, a bit shocked and embarrassed.

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I just asked what it was. Who composed it?" He pried.

"My mother, I'm sorry I thought maybe you would want to hear something different." She answered with rosy cheeks.

"I liked it," He admitted, "I want to hear more. You told me your mother composed for a while. I'm sure she had plenty of compositions…oh no, you're sad. What did I say this time?" He asked as he noted the sudden change.

"No, no, it's not you. I don't remember my mom's other work, this one was my favorite, and I always said I'd learn the rest later but never got around to it. Now it's all gone, her work probably forgotten." The longing and sadness filled the air where just moments ago, it was happiness.

"Not all, Baby Girl. I think your mother would be pleased to know one of her songs impressed the Devil. Maybe see if Grandpapa will pass the word on to her next time you speak." He reassured as she smiled, and the mood softened, "Did you ever compose anything?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Like a snowstorm passed through the room, pain took over his Baby Girl, but it vanished as quickly as it came, "A couple of things but nothing worth sharing." She answered with a shrug.

"What are you not telling me, Baby Girl?" He inquired, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk where he was met with her bright green eyes and silence. "Keeping secrets from your husband? Tsk tsk." He sighed with a shake of his head.

"Say's the same husband who's leaving his wife after dinner to indulge in his own dirty secrets." She countered, not missing a beat as she walked over to grab her glass.

"Oh? How do you know of my plans?" He questioned.

"You have a schedule." She replied, not looking at him, "Twice a week, you 'have plans,'" She replied, and despite still not looking at him, he knew she rolled her eyes.

"At least you know my dirty secrets." Lucifer pointed out, lifting his glass to his lips.

"Wish I didn't." She retorted, shooting the rest of her whiskey.

"Play me another song, something I know, so that I can focus on my work." He ordered, but the words came out as more of a request.

"Anything?" She asked.

"Yes." He replied, turning back to his work.

She began to play Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig van Beethoven, and he looked back up at her, "Why?"

"It's beautiful." She answered, continuing to play, her eyes closed as her fingers slid across the strings.

"Beautiful? I always found it sad." He corrected, forcing his focus back to his work yet again.

"It's both," She hummed, "Sadness, pain, misery. They are just as beautiful as any other emotion. People just don't want to accept them. I don't wish the pain of a broken heart on anyone, but it's beautiful regardless. Raw, pure, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful."

"What happened to you, Baby Girl?" He mumbled but only received a soft, sad smile as she played away.

Her words were true. She and her pain were beautiful. Neither of them spoke another word. Her fingers moved over the strings while Lucifer focused on the rest of his work. "If you wish to leave, you may. I don't need anything else." He offered as she finished the song.

"If it's ok with you, I would rather continue playing." She replied, and he smiled, giving her a nod.

Once he finished his work, he packed away his letters and computer while she stored the violin, and the two of them left together, heading for the dining room,

"Good evening Louie, Kathrine Ann." Greeted his father as they entered the hall.

"Father." He smirked with a bow of his head.

"Lord Lucifer." His Baby Girl smiled, bowing her head before taking their seats and having their plates placed in front of them.

He spoke with his father, uncles, and aunts about the chambers, money, and other worlds, all while glancing back at her. She had eaten all the veggies and starches but left the meat. He had taken notice a while ago that she didn't care for the dark oily meat, so as usual, he took it from her plate.

"You know you can tell Vassal you don't like it, and she'd happily replace the meat with something else." He suggested taking a bite of her stolen food.

"Nah, it's fine. Besides, you like it." She shrugged, and something about that simple reply caught him off guard.

He didn't respond because he didn't know how. The rest of dinner passed quickly, and as his Baby Girl excused herself, he followed. Once they entered the hallway, she stopped,

"I'll see you later." She said awkwardly.

"You're not coming upstairs?" He questioned.

"To watch you get ready for your date? No thanks, I'll pass." She rolled her eyes.

"It's not a date, and I don't get why you care." He complained, "It's not like you'll let me have you."

She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, "Good night Lucifer." She smiled an unmistakably fake smile and gave him a mocking curtsey as annoyance and frustration radiated from her.

Before he could speak, she turned her back to him and walked the opposite way. He watched till she turned the corner before shoving his hands into his pants pockets and starting for their room. He began to hum the tune she had played earlier. He had enjoyed the composition and wondered if her mother's other works were still around. His lips curved up as an idea formed in his head.

~~~

After a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a scribbled-out letter, Lucifer left his room, but instead of heading for the front doors, he turned for the throne room. The vast room was dark and empty at this time in the evening. Not bothering to turn on any lights, Lucifer crossed the room as his footsteps echoed through the quiet space. He stood in front of two blocked door frames on the room's far wall. He pulled out his pocket knife while mumbling a familiar incantation. With a cringe, he dug the knife into the palm of his hand, pressing deep and twisting the blade until he had a small pool of blood in his palm, all while not skipping a word. Satisfied, he pulled the knife out, and the pain subsided instantly. Using his other hand, he dipped his fingers into the blood and began to draw out the alchemic symbol for sulfur as he continued reciting the ancient words. Once done, the portal opened and quickly filled the doorway as Lucifer wiped his bloody hand on a handkerchief.

The once sealed doorway was now opened as if the castle had spawned a new room. In truth, on the other side of that door was a completely different world. Lucifer stepped through and heard a light whoosh behind him as the portal snapped shut. The room seemed to be a large study. A desk sat center at one end of the room while bookcases lined the side walls. A dark couch and a couple of chairs gave a place to relax while reading, and a few medical drawings and paintings decorated the walls. The room was dark and empty, but that didn't surprise him. If his calculations were correct, it was around 3:00 a.m. at this particular spot on Earth, and the man whose house this was most likely sleeping. Lucifer crossed the study without any issues despite the darkness and approached the desk. Reaching for the name placard, he chuckled,

"Dr. Filigian hum? I see you finally got bored of education, Alexander." Lucifer replaced the placard and dropped himself into the chair behind the desk before reaching for the bottom drawer, "Different name, maybe, but some things never change." He smirked, pulling out a bottle of gin and an empty glass.

Lucifer poured himself a small shot of the clear liquid before replacing the bottle and leaning back in the chair, "To you, old friend. I shall see you soon, but tonight I have plans." He shot the gin, pulled out the letter he had written earlier, and placed it on the desk, leaving the glass on the corner of the envelope. If anyone could help him, it would be this crazy old man.

As he returned from where he entered the room, the sides of his mouth curled up as he shook his head and stared at the classic painting 'Hell' painted by Hans Memling,

"Asshole." He mumbled, rolling his eyes before playing with the frame till he found a latch, and the painting swung forward like a door to reveal an identical door frame like the one in the castle. Pulling out his knife, he performed the ritual again, this time to step back into his world. He wiped his bloody hand off with the same kerchief as before while quickly crossing the throne room. Tossing the soiled cloth into the trashcan as he passed, now heading for the front doors of the castle where one of his less flashy cars waited,

"Do you wish me to drive you, young Lord?" Asked the servant, who stood at attention next to the vehicle.

"No, I'll drive myself." He answered, and with a nod, the servant handed over the keys.

Lucifer climbed into the car, and within a few moments, he drove off into the night.