fandomtownies | The Perk, Thursday Afternoon

Well, it had certainly been a bloody week. Or two, at this point.

It had taken until Thursday - had taken eight months for Lucifer to get to this point, but he was finally. At this point. Sitting at a table at the Perk, a decadent chocolate drink sitting in front of him. Eyeing his phone.

The hurt was still an inescapable thing inside of him, gnawing on something worse that he preferred not to think about. But the anger-- the anger had taken a backseat to so many other things this week and he just. He pressed the button, the one underneath the word DETECTIVE, and waited.

It didn't ring.

He pressed the button again. "The number you are trying to call--"

Again. "The number--"

Again. "The--"

He screamed. A frustrated, strangled noise aimed directly at the bloody phone and he was going to--

"Please don't throw that," said the barista in a thin, careful, terrified voice and that just... He lowered the phone, took a deep breath.

"Sorry," he said, "Just a bit of a technological issue. You know how it is." Was his smile convincing? He hoped so.

Besides, he couldn't call Portalocity to ask what in bloody hell was happening if he broke his phone, could he? He slammed his finger onto that number and didn't even let the person on the other side finish greeting him; nobody had a can-I-speak-to-a-manager voice like Lucifer Morningstar. "What is going on here?" he snapped. "Are you people just randomly kidnapping people and blocking all of their communications? Because I have a few words for you!"

A short pause on the other side. Then, perkily: "How can we help you?"

Lucifer groaned. "I am trying to contact my home universe," he said, rattling off the address, "but my phone keeps informing me that the number does not exist. Now this number called me only a few weeks ago, so you can imagine my surprise! What is going on here?"

Dead air. The rattling of fingers on a keyboard.

"Oh, nothing to worry about," said the perky voice again. "Your universe is just experiencing some temporal disruption. A slowdown, if you will. It happens. We can take you back there if you want, you'll just have to submit to temporal quarantine for a week to bring you back into synch with--"

His heart lowered from the throat it had gotten lodged into. "... No," he said. "That will be all. Thank you."

He hung up.

Probably for the best, really. No point in making irreversible decisions when you were a bit upset.

He picked up his mug and took a long sip.

No point at all.

[[ open ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She had missed having tea at the Perk and people watching. Oh, and the cake. Lucille had never managed to improve her baking skills.

A pot of tea and a piece of chocolate on a tray, she looked around for a table.

"It does that sometimes, you know."

She might have just returned, but she knew Fandom.

"Sometimes not having people to call makes it easier. Letters rarely fail, I've noticed."

Lucifer sighed loudly. "Yes, but it's choosing a very inopportunate moment to do so," he said irritably.

(At least home wasn't gone. Chloe, the child, Ella and Linda, Amenadiel and Maze...)

"I suppose letters are impractical in emergencies, if you're used to phonecalls," Lucille said, looking around for a table.

"More than a little bit," Lucifer agreed. "Hardly a substitute."

"I admit I got used to it when living here before," Lucille said, finding a table close enough to continue the conversation, but far away enough to end it if needed.

"Are you from this time then, or have you just learnt to appreciate the local technology?"

"Both, actually," Lucifer said, summoning his grin to cover up the unpleasant emotions of the past few hours. "I started rather early on in history and got here the slow way 'round. Not the same for you, I take it."

"I'm from England in 1889," Lucille said, pouring her tea. "And you have to clarify what you mean with what you just said."

You never knew with people around here, but maybe his name would suffice. "Where are my manners?" he said, grinning. "I'm Lucifer Morningstar."

"That's a devilish name," Lucille noted with an amused smile. "My name is Lucille Sharpe."

"Pleasure to meet you, miss? Sharpe," Lucifer said. "And what I meant earlier is that I think I look very youthful for my age."

"You do? Do you tell me that because you want me to guess your age or because you don't want me to mistake you for being younger than you are?" Lucille asked. "And yes, miss. Although not everyone around here use titles, so I don't insist on it."

She took a sip from her cup.

"I think you must have arrived after I left for home."

"I just got here last year," Lucifer said, smirking. "On the island. This planet, more like billions of years ago."

"A lot older than I would have guessed," Lucille said. "You're not quite as human as you look, then?"

"Not quite," Lucifer agreed, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "So when were you here? Because I would have remembered you otherwise."

The flirting was largely autopilot, but you couldn't tell to look at him right now.

Ignoring the flirting, Lucille said: "I used to be a student at the school and left about three years ago. I felt it was a good time to return."

She sipped her tea, then smiled.

"Any particular reason?" Lucifer asked, glancing at his phone for a brief second.

Right, not going to get a return call either, if everything back in LA was-- slow.

"My brother passed away," she said, not showing much emotion. "Our house is remotely situated and too large for just myself. What brought you here?"

"I wanted a vacation," Lucifer said, grinning brightly. "No dead relatives, sadly, just irritating ones."

Well, one dead brother he tried very hard not to think about, but that was years ago.

"A vacation? From what?" Lucille took a sip from her tea. "And here? I suppose this island can be considered picturesque."

"It is a small town dump, let's not be mistaken," Lucifer said, taking a sip from his hot chocolate. "But it's the absolute opposite of Los Angeles, which I was rather tired of."

And which was now apparently in a slow-down pocket.

"I haven't been to Los Angeles," Lucille said. "But it doesn't surprise me that it would be. Do you teach here? Or is it just a vacation?"

The Perk, Thursday Afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject