Chapter Text
"Come on, Meg. Behave." A man's calm, low voice , chided with just a hint of humour. A girl, all dark tresses and flashing eyes, turned to laugh.
"You're such an old geezer, Lucifer. Live a little." Meg teased, spinning on her heels in the oil slicked alley. "I'd mind your tongue, you devil. Especially since you killed all those people. Naughty, naughty." He purred, smirking.
"Make me." She breathed, testing him, taunting. The adrenaline of the homicidal outburst clung to her skin.
The petite demon leant against the cold concrete of the wall, tight leather and denim aiding in serving up her body. Offerings to a man who in her childhood had been but a story. Lucifer moved towards her, long legs in fluid tandem.
The size difference was made that much clearer as he shadowed her.
Large, callused hands coming to grip her waist. "Careful what you wish for." He chuckled, hazel eyes boring in to Meg's. The demon barely managed to conceal a shudder.
His eyes were...wrong. They were Sam's, sure. But where the Boy King's had been full of love and sadness, a gentle gateway to his thoughts, Lucifer wore them coldly. With little expression aside from a terrifying calm or an arrogance no one dared question. Not even her.
And she was special. As exalted as a demon could be by a fallen angel who despised his own twisted creations. It was odd too, to see a boy she'd watched, a vessel she'd tested the fit of herself, worn by the morning star. Meg could still remember the madness with which Sam had fought her. The thought of how deafeningly loud he must be screaming inside his own head now made her stomach turn.
His crisp laughter, which made Meg think of a bureaucrat's starched white shirt, broke her out of the unusual reverie as his hands subtly roamed her torso. She cocked one pointed eyebrow in question. "What?" She chuckled softly.
"You seemed studious. I didn't expect that from you, sweet." Lucifer purred, before Sam Winchester's lips crashed in to her own with a calculated precision. Her shoulder blades dug in to the wall. And the swelling tide of odd guilt quelled. The Archangel's light invaded her damned flesh. Blessing or curse, Meg wasn't so sure.