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strangeanglemeg
balletrat wrote in milliways_bar
*Meg's sitting at the bar, frowning over a list.

For once, it's not, in fact, covered with illegible choreographic designs. Instead, it's covered in mostly-illegible French phrases - which is a step up, yes?*

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A presence hovers behind her left shoulder for a while before speaking.

"No, I think you're going to have to give me a hint."

- oh, what kind of all-powerful force of evil are you if you can't even figure out some bad handwriting?

*Meg turns around, beaming.

. . . and then gives him a hug. Just because. (Also because she'd really almost forgotten how great that coffee mug was before Cooper found it for her.)*

It probably says something about the bar that Lucifer calmly endures an enthusiastic hug from a small blonde thing.

"One with not much patience for things that aren't neat?" he suggests.

Well, you're not expected to read it.

*Meg is prim. Or, at least, she is as soon as she disentangles herself from Lucifer and returns to her perch on the seat.*

It's for me, and I can read my handwriting perfectly well. So.

"So," Lucifer agrees, and puts a hand on the bar.

A book appears with the tiny glass of Amaretto; Lucifer turns it over in his hands and laughs.

"How was your Christmas, Mademoiselle?"

Belated, *Meg says. A little mournfully.*

I'm awful. I completely missed it and didn't realize until after - time's all hard for me to keep track of these days.

*She waves a vague hand down at the illegible papers.* Hence the last-minute lists to make up for it. Yours?

"Busier than usual," Lucifer says thoughtfully.

*Meg blinks.

The brief thought do I want to know? passes through her brain, and is, of course, promptly ignored.*

- how so?

Lucifer looks at her and lets one eyebrow quirk upwards by enough of a fraction that the pause becomes almost humiliating.

Then -

"I am planning a vacation," he says solemnly.

*It's maybe fortunate that Meg is not easily humiliated.*

- a vacation? *she echoes, obligingly.* What - sunny beaches and inappropriate swimsuits and all?

"Not quite."

He smiles.

"More of an epic quest. Riddles and twisting paths and snakes. That kind of thing."

. . . well, I don't know about you, but that's not exactly my idea of vacation, *Meg says, amused in spite of herself.*

I mean, I'm une fille simple, I call a spade a spade and an epic quest an epic quest. What's the goal?

Lucifer seems to be talking a lot of shop this evening. The answer is always slightly different.

"You danced me a City once," he says, and reaches out one hand so that his fingertips are touching the side of her head.

*Meg's stilled, even before the fingers touch her head; that night, that dance, is not one she will ever forget. Nor take lightly.

And then she sees the image that he shows her.

Meg isn't particularly literary, but she's got a good memory, and there's a moment when all she can think of is a poem she read, once. Not long ago.

I lost two cities. Lovely ones, and vaster -*

I'd say it's beautiful, *she says, aloud.*

But you already know that, so.

"It's perfect," Lucifer says with a twist of lips.

*Meg knows the story - perhaps as well as anyone, although not in as much detail.

There are different ways to be perfect. But all she says is,* Why now?

Why are you going back?

"Because I think I've found a way to do so."

Which is reason enough in itself, for Lucifer, but -

"And I promised to help recover something for Kassandra."

I've heard of Kassandra, *Meg says - more visibly startled than before.*

A long time ago. When I first came - she left. Didn't she? With the old Bartender?

He nods, eyes neutral.

"And then she came back."

- but that's Heaven! *Meg blurts out, before she can think.*

How can you - how can anyone come back?

Lucifer blinks, and then raises his eyebrows in an expression that has humour in it.

"I'll admit to not being entirely clear on the logistics involved with human souls, but Kassandra has quite a will about her, and she...decided to leave."

*Meg shakes her head, bewilderment clear in her face.*

I always thought it was the same thing as the Clearing, sort of - and they say people don't come back from there. I mean -




I guess if she wanted to leave it couldn't have been the same place.

He shrugs. "In truth, I haven't heard of it being a common occurrence. And she didn't quite come back...whole. Which is why we're going back."

Lucifer's expression smooths out of humour and into something a little more vague.

"I will not take it upon myself to define a soul, Mademoiselle, but part of hers is missing."

Missing? *Meg echoes; her voice is small, but she doesn't ask how that can be possible.

She's trying to stop herself from imagining what it would be like.

Suddenly brisk:* Well then of course people have to go back. I mean, you can't just - it has to be gotten back.

Something light and meaningless is hovering at the front of his mouth, something like very moral of you, little thing, but before it escaped there is -

(- a long while ago Lucifer was in this place, with this girl, and he felt -)



this.

When Lucifer recovers he looks...well, maybe a little ruffled. He forgets about his eyes. They're still red.

"Mademoiselle Giry," he says, clearly and precisely. "I would like you to come with us."

Those aren't quite the correct words; this sensation is tinged a little more need and a strange shade of will. But they'll do.

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