fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Night

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The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Night

Lucifer frowned as the club wasn't opened once again tonight. He had employees for a reason.

So, there he was behind the bar tonight.

Annoyed.

Approach at your own peril.

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Where drinking is theoretically done.

So, Annette mustered up the courage to go see this Lucifer. She did take into consideration Mr. Phale's and Dr. Wilson's words, but since she was in a pretty good mood, things were okay. Just be nice. And mind her manners.

She set her camera atop the bar counter and folded her hands together next to it.

"Uh. Hello?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Annette and her camera.

"May I help you?"

"Um. I'll have a root beer, please."

A small annoyed sigh and Lucifer poured her a glass of root beer, probably left over from the weekend that won't be spoken of.

"Anything else young lady?"

If she frowned at that glass of root beer, she didn't let it show.

She smiled at him, "So, do you own the Devil's Nest." She had to work him up a little, right? She wanted a picture and had to get him to agree to it. Polite conversation must happen first!

The polite give and take before asking for a favor Lucifer understood, even if for him it was more of a distant kind of knowledge. Tonight it was proving to be quite tedious.

"I do. A relaxing retirement, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, I would agree. Although, for myself I would not consider it worthwhile. I mean, drunk people and all." Er..

"So, you know Mr. Phale very well?"

He paused halfway to reaching for a bottle of vodka to make himself a martini.

"Why do you ask?"

"He is a friend of mine and my mentor. He said you were a nice chap." She replied easily.

"A nice chap?" He repeated, looking more than a little amused. Aziraphale would be the only angel in existence to refer to him as such.

"And you came here to see if he was telling the truth I take it."

She didn't answer that. "Are you an angel? Or are you the devil? Or are you the angel who fell and became the devil?" Annette smiled and took a sip of her root beer.

"Or am I all three?"

She raised her brows and unknowingly leaned slightly forward, intrigued. "Are you?" She asked in a whispery tone.

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar. "I am."

She stared at him, fascinated. "That makes sense."

"Is your curiosity satisfied now?"

"Probably not."

He snorted with amusement. "Good."

"So what were you getting ready to fix yourself to drink?"

With a small smirk he picked up an empty martini shaker. After a quick shake he poured a bright red drink (http://www.drinksmixer.com/drink3185.html) out into a martini glass, topping it with an olive.

"A martini."

"That looks good. Looks like blood. But looks good. I've never had one before."

He made a small noise of acknowledgement as he sipped the drink.

"And sadly you won't be able to get one here. We, unlike other establishments in town, do card our patrons."

"Yes, I know. But you could let me have a sip of yours. I don't have germs or anything, I promise."

"I could," He admitted and took another sip.

"But why would I do that?"

"Because you like me." She said simply.

"You have yet to tell me your name, I can hardly claim to like you if I don't even know with whom I'm speaking."

"...yet you've kept me company." She said with a wry grin. "You've neither told me to leave or left me to myself. That says much, Mr. Lucifer. But I'll oblige you; my name's Annette Hargrove and I think it truly a pleasure to meet you."

"A pleasure Miss Hargrove," He told her, bowing his head slightly. "And I suppose you're right. Though it might have more to do with your relationship with Dr. Wilson and Aziraphale. I would hate to offend them."

She nodded a little, she could understand and appreciate that. But the other..."Why is that? And does this mean I can't have a sip of your bloody martini?"

"The answer to your question is still no," He told her politely, but firmly.

"Any why what exactly?"

"All right." She replied. Bloody martinis weren't exactly necessary were they? But just to be able to tell Mr. Phale that Lucifer gave her a sip from his own glass, well, that was definitely something. Still...he said no and she wasn't about to ask again.

"Why would you hate to offend them?"

It was a more dangerous question than he was willing to answer fully. Even if Annette wasn't anything he needed to worry about.

"They're pleasant company."

"Pleasantness is offensive to you?"

"No. Company such as them is rare to find and I would not care to end our relationship."

"Ah, I see. And I understand. I am very fond of them myself. Mr. Phale, well, he's an angel and I find that very comforting. Do you have wings, Mr. Lucifer?"

Any emotion in his eyes abruptly disappeared with that question.

"Why so many questions Miss Hargrove?"

Er..

"I like to learn?"

"An admirable quality," He said, nodding his head. "If you will excuse me, I have other duties to attend to."

Crap!

"Oh, I almost forgot. Can I take your picture? Just for myself, not for public display or sharing. I swear."

So it could end up like the last time his picture was taken?

"I think not, Miss Hargrove," He said, tone coldly polite. "Have a good evening."

She could have headdesked right there on the bar counter. "You too, Mr. Lucifer."

As she turned to leave, she only prayed that if he ever brought this conversation up to Mr. Phale or Dr. Wilson, he would be polite about it.

Where lounging has been said to happen.

Dancing might take place here.

Not actually mad at any employees, forgetting happens like a big happening thing.

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The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Night

The Bar

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The Lounge

The Dance Floor

OOC