Sumaire – The Website of Anna Rose

The Weird World of a Working Author

New Year’s Eve 2020

I don’t own any of this. That honor goes to Neil Gaiman, Vertigo, DC Comics, Netflix, Warner Bros., and (Dad-help-us), Fox. Use of and sharing by others, in any way, shape or form, is not allowed.

Unless you’re one of the actual owners of the LUCIFER property, of course, then feel free to use any bit of or all of it with my enthusiastic blessing. I wouldn’t even want compensation or credit. Really.

2020

New Year’s Eve – 2019

“You know, Lucifer, we’ve known each other all this time, but we’ve never actually spent New Year’s Eve together,” Chloe said as she brought another tray of hors d’oeuvres to the table. Lucifer took it from her hands and set it down on the intricately woven raffia mat that protected the highly polished wooden surface. The exquisite coffee table had been a holiday gift from the Devil to the woman he loved so very much.

He had extracted a promise from Beatrice that she would exercise only the utmost care in the event she made use of it. The little imp had had the temerity to wrap him in a hug and kiss him before she dashed off, daring him to pursue her.

He’d let her escape, but not without putting on only the most elaborate show of chasing her down.

“That is an excellent question, Detective,” he replied as he brushed invisible crumbs from the tabletop and into a pristine embroidered handkerchief. “Whatever could have made something like that come to be?”

“I know you host huge New Year’s Eve bashes at LUX,” she said. “I figured you had other things going on and didn’t want to bother you.”

Bother me? As if you could ever! You should know that you are always welcome at my parties, Chloe,” he told her, putting a hand atop hers. “I would have thought you knew that already.”

“Well, Lucifer, there is knowing and then there is knowing.”

“I’m not entirely sure I understand, Detective,” he replied, leaning forward to pluck a tasty almost-paper-thin slice of prosciutto up from the tray and then popping it into his mouth, savoring its rich flavor. “This really is delicious, my dear! Where did you pick it up?”

“It’s sort of like when someone tells you to call them anytime, but that’s not really what they mean,” she said. “I got the prosciutto at a little Croatian butcher shop in San Pedro near 25th and Western.”

“I’ll have to pay them a visit sometime, I believe, and Detective, you should know by now that I only say what I mean, especially with you.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re not human, Lucifer,” she explained. “Human males aren’t usually as forthright as you are about things. Not as evolved.”

“That’s their problem and not mine—and evolved? Really, now.”

Chloe giggled and blushed, which made the Devil grin wickedly.

“I’m still learning, Lucifer.”

“Clearly.”

“Anyhow, what do you normally do on New Year’s?”

“Detective, I have observed countless New Year’s Eves over the millennia, in so very many places, the vast majority of which no longer exist. Different cultures address it in their own way, if they address it at all.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Okay, then,” he said. “Over the past several years, I have thrown an enormous party with plenty of booze of all sorts, dancing, food, and other delights.”

Chloe kept her mouth shut at that last bit. She knew about Lucifer’s frequent ingestion of illegal substances, but also knew that they didn’t really affect him for very long at all, which was also the case with the enormous amount of alcohol he consumed on a daily basis.

“You disapprove.”

“No, Lucifer, I don’t,” she corrected him. “I know you’re not going to do anything bad, so I don’t worry about it.”

“Can this be the same Detective who used to criticize my alcohol and drug preferences?”

“Yes, it can and it is, Lucifer. You’re a big boy. Hell, you’re not just a big boy, you are one of the two most grown-ass men I have ever known. If you don’t know better by now, it’s never going to happen.”

Lucifer laughed.

“Grown-ass man? You are really describing me that way?”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“I suppose you are correct, Detective, but I can’t say I have ever thought of myself that way.”

This time, Chloe laughed, then checked her watch.

“Only about ten minutes until the ball drops,” she told him.

“You know we could have simply flown to New York and seen it all happen on East Coast time.”

“Flown there? Do you have any idea what flights cost? Oh ya, I forgot who I was talking to. You could easily afford it.”

“I wasn’t talking about a plane, Detective,” he said. “I meant I could have flown you there.”

“Yes, well—oh—that,” she said, her eyes going wide. “You can do that?”

“Detective, how do you think I got you out of that chamber after Cain’s goon shot you?”

Chloe slouched back against the couch and brushed her hair out of her eyes.

“You know, I had never thought about that before,” she told him. “I probably should have thought about that when I saw your face for the first time.”

“Yes, you probably should have, but at this point, that’s neither here nor there.”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am—“

“Chloe, it’s all over and done with, and it’s high time we moved on.”

“Did I just see that guy on the tv swallow a shot of Jaeger?”

“If Hell has a taste, Detective, it tastes of Jaegermeister,” he replied, shuddering with revulsion.

“What, an alcohol you don’t like?”

“Detective, there are bedtime sleep medications that taste better than that—abomination,” he replied. She giggled again, the sound thrilling through Lucifer’s body.

“I used to do shots of it when I was in college.”

“Dad help me why?”

“Usually as part of some drinking game or other,” she confessed. “Please don’t tell Trixie, though. I’d like to pretend I was better than that. At least for a little while longer.”

“Your wish is my command, Chloe,” he bowed floridly from his seated position.

“Thank you, Beelzebub.”

Lucifer snorted with mirth.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me by one of my other names,” he noted. “Finally accepting things?”

“I accepted things a long time ago, Lucifer,” she replied. “I just didn’t know I had until fairly recently.”

Cheers and a familiar chant coming from the television got their attention.

“…5, 4, 3, 2, 1—Happy New Year!” gushed the inebriated hosts from the screen.

Neither could have said who started the kiss, nor who finally broke it, but it went on for a quite a long time.

“Happy New Year, my love,” Lucifer said, once they both came up for air. “May it be everything you might wish for and more.”

“Happy New Year, Lucifer,” Chloe replied with a wicked smile, rising from her seat gracefully and taking his hand. “I have an extensive wish list. The first item involves you.”

Copyright 2020

All Rights Reserved (except those specifically noted otherwise)

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