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At Least Its Not A Funeral That Brings Us Together*

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A case. It always start with a case.

And this specific case involved four very different parties. 

Overall, no one was having a good time. 

But let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

Los Angeles was a city of power and dirt, and also the unlikely home of the devil himself. No one really knew about that though, except a select few immortals and certain humans. One of those humans was Chloe Decker, a bright, cunning young woman with a darling child and an ex-husband/co-worker named Dan. 

Chloe currently stood before a sight that she couldn’t exactly understand. 

Ash wings scorched the ground behind the victim, stretching almost 16 feet total. The corpse itself showed signs of struggle; nicks and scratches littered the woman’s arms and face, but in the end, it was probably the triangular stab wound through the chest that finished her. As for any suspects, they were clueless. No signs of forced entry into the small apartment and no DNA was recovered. A complete and utter mystery. 

To add to the LAPD's problems, the 'FBI' was now involved. 

Three men, each varying in height, hair, and expression, had introduced themselves as Agents Scott, Daniels, and Brady. 

"So, this is it? No footage, no ID, nothing?" The spiky blond haired man stood up slowly, green eyes flicking around the room for anything the cops might have missed. Agent Daniels finally looked at the patient detective (who I will add was a fellow blond, not that it's too important). 

A young, dark haired woman in a Forensics hoodie approaches the group, answering his question. "Well, the victim is Julianne Smithson, and she lives in Atlanta, Georgia."

The tallest agent, Scott, quirked an eyebrow; "What was she doing here then?"

"Who knows," the detective shrugged, "Maybe on vacation? Work? We'll have to make a few calls but we'll figure it out."

Chloe eyed the third agent in suspicion. Agent Brady was quiet and his eyes never left the body in front of them, like seeing it struck something deep inside of him. She opened her mouth to ask about it, but someone else needed her attention. 

"Detective Decker?"

She turned towards a young, dark haired woman. A cold, monotone feeling radiated off of the new comer. The agents watched in interest, the before mentioned agent squinting his eyes.

"That would be me. How can I help you?" Chloe smiled despite herself. The other woman, clad in leather and jeans, walked towards the body and pulled on her own pair of leather gloves. 

"I was hoping you could give me the run down of what happened here." Her eyes scanned the body, lifting the shirt a little bit for a better look at the stab wound. 

Before Chloe could get a word in, she was once again interrupted, this time by Agent Daniels. "And who exactly are you?"

His tone was accusative, mistrust clearly in his voice. Chloe put up a hand, attempting to get the agent to stand down. "He has a point. You don't just waltz onto a crime scene like that." 

Blue eyes met hazel, and Chloe resisted the urge to shiver. The no-name stood abruptly, eyes never breaking contact. "My apologies then, Detective... and others."

She brushed back a lock of short hair and pulled off a glove, reaching out her hand. "My name is Elise. Elise Zudary. I'm a friend of Officer Khol."

Chloe shook Elise's hand, racking her brain for an Officer Khol. She vaguely remembered one, but he was often out on patrol and rarely stayed long in the station. "Nice to meet you. May I ask why you're here?"

"Khol called me, I was in the area. Seemed like something I dealt with in the past."

"So, you're an investigator?"

"In a way, I suppose."

"Excuse me Detective, may we speak with Miss Zudary alone, please?" Agent Scott, looked at her, flashing an attempt at a kind smile. The Detective paused for a moment, wondering what they may want to speak about, but in the end, she gave a 'sure' and walked away.

Chloe needed to speak with the person who found the body anyways. Ella was close on her heels, not unlike a puppy following their favorite person. "Okay, Elise? She's kinda hot, right? I'm not the only one seeing that?"

Rolling her eyes in amusement, the Detective left the apartment. Then a thought occurred: Where was Lucifer?

Two older men, almost complete opposites in attire, walked through the park, two teenage boys trailing behind them. The taller man was dressed mostly in black, a few hints of grey and dark grey here and there, along with his signature sunglasses. His husband sported a more vintage, cream outfit. The teens wore a similar combination of jeans, sneakers, and t-shirts. Though, one had honey brown hair, curling on top of his head, while the other sported a dark, straight, long haircut. 

Crowley and Aziraphale, officially, were here for pleasure. They agreed to bring Adam after bearing witnesses to the countless hours of pleading and begging (though, after much conversing, he agreed to leave Dog in Tadfield). Lord only knows how they managed to get Warlock. The demon vaguely remembers agreeing to it after finding the ambassador's son stashed in the backseat of the Bentley, playing on his phone. 

And as fate would have it, trouble wasn't far.

Black furred and massive, a dog bounded towards the tetrad, it's owner yelling after it to stop. Not that the beast listened. 

Crowley braced himself to be bowled over, squeezing his serpentine eyes tight. After a lucky moment, he slowly reopened them, gazing upon the dog sitting in front of Adam. A faint sense of hell hound reached Crowley, helping him understand why the dog felt drawn to the boy. 

"Oh bother..." The words escaped his lips with an exasperated sigh. 

Slowing down, the supposed owner stopped in front of the group. She tried an apologetic smile, rubbing her arm in embarrassment. The olive skin of her face flushed red, whether that was from the running or humiliation, who knows. "I am so sorry. I don't know what got into him. Duke normally isn't like this..."

"Where'd you get him?" Crowley prompted, leaning back in his stance. Adam and Warlock were rubbing the dog's head, giving him a good scratch behind the ears. 

"Ah, well, Duke actually belongs to my... friend. She's just a bit busy at the moment so I volunteered to help her out." The woman pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, the strand fading from dark brown to a yellow blond. "Oh, I'm Rosa, by the way."

"Aziraphale, and this is my husband Crowley. Those two are Adam and Warlock." The white haired, shorter man smiled sweetly at the girl. "I hope you don't mind them petting, ah what did you call him? Duke, yes."

The woman laughed, sparking something in Crowley. One may call it jealousy; not that the demon needed to worry too much. Aziraphale was forever his (just as it is vice verse) and Rosa actually had two partners in the meantime. "It's completely fine; he needs some other attention once in a while. I'm just surprised he actually ran off like that."

She laughed to herself at an inside thought. Her lips parted, ready to continue before the sound of feathers rustling interrupted them. 

"Rosa, there you are. Elise found a case and-"

The new angel suddenly realized there were witnesses to his sudden appearance. Another man close to him studied the tourists, and cracking a grin instead of the deer in headlights look the other was sporting. 

"Crowley, wonderful to see you!" The dark haired male, whom Crowley had deduced to be a demon, smiled. The Serpent took a moment to study the other demon, a memory finding some a familiarity in the voice and face. 

"Solumber, right?"

"Yep; how you doing?"

"Terrible. I see you've stayed out of the dumps." 

"Never really liked it down there. Only stayed for the hounds." Solumber shrugged, peering around to look at the teens, "Is that the Antichrist?"

"Does it matter?" Crowley snapped back, quickly getting defensive. He didn't know the Lord of Hell Hounds that well, and he wasn't going to take any chances. 

Luckily, the other demon backed off, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa, no, no, no. I was curious; missed the whole 'prepare for the final war' thing."

The angel next to him shifted uncomfortably, "Perhaps it's best we leave you to-"

"Oh right, this here," Solumber clapped him on the shoulder, "Is Selthel. Don't mind him, he's shy." 

Selthel glared at the demon, "I need Rosa, you can bring Duke back, oh Lord of Hell Hounds." He reached for the woman, disappearing with the sound of feathery wings. 

"Hmm, right. Stupid angel." He muttered to himself, whistling for Duke to his side. The dog bounded over, sitting on his left. "So, in town long?"


Silence wasn't unusual in the night club when it was 9 in the morning. Though, the being sitting at the bar was out of place. She sipped from a squarish glass, the dark amber liquid sloshing around. The lights were dim but golden, casting a gentle glow on the angel. 

"You know, we're closed at the moment." A British accent broke the quiet, descending the stairs. 

"And the king of Hell should be in his domain." The woman smiled to herself, only turning slightly towards the dark haired man. "It's been a while, Lucifer."

"Jarnetheil; angel of neutrality, youngest of the Seraphim." Lucifer flashed her a smile, seeing the familiar bright amber eyes. "For a moment I thought you were another halfwit trying to drag me back." 

The Seraph pursed her lips, making a 'hmm' sound, before taking another sip. "Well, I was in the area and figured I should give my, what are you, 4th? Favorite Archangel? A visit."

"I can't believe you make lists..." He reached for another bottle, pouring himself a glass, then sat down next to her. "Who's 1st, 2nd, and 3rd?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Well I'm sure Raphael is numero uno, but I will admit I'm a little curious who else could be above me." 

Jarnetheil scoffed with a smirk. "It's really not important. Tell me, what have you been doing up here?"

"Changing the subject are we? Tell me, is one of them of special interest?" His devilish grin made the angel roll her eyes in amusement. 

"No. Remember, we're talking about my favorite Archangels here." She mumbles her next words into her drink, "Not about trivial crushes."

The Devil catches her words, leaning closer. "So, there is someone! Please, continue."

"We're talking about you, about Archangels, not about my love life or anything like that."

"So defensive! Is it a human?"


"Another angel? I know you said it wasn't an archangel but there's still eight other groups, well, seven. You don't seem to be one to go after another seraph."

"Just shut up already."

"A monster? Like a vamp or a werewolf? I wouldn't see you as the type but-"

"Please, at this point, go back to hell."


Jarnetheil stayed silent, staring intently into her drink.

"It is, isn't it?!" Lucifer's grin reached his eyes, teasing. "Well, which asshole is it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know..." She grumbled, only encouraging the Devil further. 

"So I'm rusty on who's operating topside nowadays, hmm." He tapped his lips in thought, "Is The Serpent still around? You know the one from Eden."

Thankful for a minor change of subject, Jarnetheil smirked, "Yeah. The Serpent, Crowley, and his angel partner-"

"Angel partner?"

"Yeah, Aziraphale. Principality, guardian of the Eastern Gate." She refilled her glass, "Those two stirred up a lot of shit a couple years ago. Prevented an apocalypse, avoided execution, etc, etc."

"Wait, that was those two?" A look of genuine surprise crossed his face.

"Yeah, real fun." Another sip, "Luckily, I was down here, in America, avoiding that whole thing." She paused for a moment, "Well, not really..."

There was a new silence between them. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable but the Seraph wasn't exactly relaxed. Her drink was finished slowly. 

"Well, it's been fun catching up, Lucifer." A solemn look masked her face, "I've missed these talks."

"Yes, well, if you're here for long, my place is always open to an old friend." The corner of her mouth lifted, "And next time, don't leave out your demon lover's name!"

 Up in a vast plain of white, a being of ‘something’ sits. 

Now, it’s hard to describe since in heaven, presence and absence exist at the same time. 

(Not to mention it’s most notable occupants).

Michael, the mighty archangel, watched Earth. He was simply trying to understand the subjects and their motives. 

He was ready to make a move, but first, some characters needed to be dealt with...