Lucifer "Dear Uncle Micheal."

His Baby Girls face was pressed into his chest. Her arms squeezed his waist tightly while her hands gripped his shirt in clenched fists. Lucifer, who had been a bit shocked by her actions, now smirked with a raised brow at Azazel, who leaned against the door frame with a triumphant grin on her lips,

'You're welcome, My Prince.' She mouthed, and Lucifer just rolled his eyes in return while his terrified little doll's fear slowly changed into embarrassment.

"It was Azazel, wasn't it?" She asked, loosening her grip on him but keeping her scarlet face buried in Lucifer's chest.

"Umhum." He verified.

"She's standing there smugly. Very proud of herself, isn't she?" Was the next query.

"Umhum." He again verified, and she slowly released him, took a couple of steps back, and turned to face the extremely proud half-demon. Her face was almost glowing as Lucifer chuckled,

"Why Azazel? Why do you do this to me? I thought we were friends." She whined.

"I'm your only friend, so you'll just have to put up with it, won't you?" She snickered.

"Not true. I have Milril and Orad as well. Maybe I'll start spending more time with them instead." His Baby Girl threatened.

"You're threats are as empty as those twos heads." Azazel laughed, "Now I best start thinking of a way to top that scare. It was the funniest one yet."

"And when I die from a heart attack or stroke, hum? Will it be funny then?" She scolded, crossing her arms over her chest while Lucifer and Azazel shook their heads.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Princess. As I said, it's funny, and you make it so easy I can't help myself." She laughed, pushing off the frame, "Now come on, the ladies should be arriving in just a bit." Azazel added, ushering his Grumpy doll to the door

"Take care of her, Azazel," Lucifer ordered before grudgingly turning back the way they came.

"You'll stop by at lunch, right?" His Baby Girl quickly asked.

"Maybe." He shrugged as the corners of his lips twitched up, "You two have fun." He waved without turning around.

"Oh, don't sulk. You're not still mad at me, are you?" He heard Azazel laugh.

"Sometimes, I swear you're the female version of Lucifer." She grumbled in return.

"Aw, Princess!" Azazel clapped, "Is that you're way of telling me you love me too?"

"Azazel!" She screeched, and Lucifer laughed as he slowly rounded the corner.

He walked past the throne room and the dining hall towards his office, his mood becoming fouler with each step. Fortunately, when he rounded the last corner, the corridor was empty. Lucifer fished his keys out of his pocket as he approached the doors. Though he would have enjoyed the idea of making Micheal wait on him, he also didn't want to hear the moaning and complaining about how disrespectful and,

"Irresponsable, Jr.," Came a familiarly pompous voice as Lucifer opened the door and groaned, "I believe I said I was arriving right after breakfast. I wish I could say I was surprised."

There he was in all of his divine glory sitting in Lucifer's chair, looking through the file on his desk. At least he wasn't wearing that obnoxious robe again. Instead, he wore a shiny white button-down and white slacks as his oversized wings folded against his back. How did that not hurt to sit and lean on them like that?

"So sorry, dear Uncle, husbandly duties called. Now, get out of my chair so we can get this over with, hum?" He replied as the tall golden-haired angel stood looking at Lucifer with an arrogant smirk as he slowly moved out of the way, brushing his long locks over his shoulder,

"What's the hurry, Jr.? We rarely get to spend quality time together, and here you are trying to rush me off." He questioned as Lucifer moved behind the desk and took his seat.

"Despite what you choose to believe, Uncle, I have an essential and difficult job that requires precision and dedication. Now with the newly added responsibility of a wife, my daily schedule is quite full, so I apologize in advance, but I haven't the time for your little bullying session today." He huffed, opening the file that Micheal, so rudely, snooped through.

"How is your wife? I know it's not the marriage you had hoped for." He probed with that stupid smirk still on his lips.

"No, of course, it's not. Nevertheless, it's been fine. In fact, we went on a camping trip a couple of weeks back. It was pleasant." Lucifer admitted as he pulled out the three contracts and placed them in a row on the desk. What he didn't see was the sudden change in his Uncle's expression. Micheal's eyes narrowed, and a scowl crossed his face for a moment, but he quickly schooled his features before Lucifer looked up.

"The files are wrong." Micheal accused, looking down at the three pieces of paper in front of Lucifer.

"The files are never wrong." He corrected, rolling his eyes.

"I was told I was reclaiming four angels, and that file only has three contracts," Micheal began, and Lucifer let his head fall back with a sigh.

"The files are never wrong, Uncle. I put them together myself," Lucifer repeated, ready to explain, but he was interrupted by a booming Ha.

"You dare to accuse my father of being wrong, you disrespectful anathema." Micheal spat.

"Anathema? Someone learned a big word. Did you tell Grandpapa he'll be so proud of his special boy?" Lucifer laughed, though his anger flared just below the surface.

"Mind your manners, Lucifer!" Micheal warned.

"Practice what you preach, Uncle." Lucifer retorted, "If you hadn't so rudely interrupted me, I would have explained that two of the angels were partners in crime and thus damned at the same time, so this contract has two names on it." Lucifer revealed, tapping one of the sheets of paper before reaching for the bottom drawer of his desk, "A fact you would have realized if you had actually read the files instead of just using them to irritate me." He grumbled, pouring two glasses, his with a bit more, before returning the bottle to its home. Running his fingers through his hair, he grabbed the glass with less and walked it over to Micheal. "Shall we get on with this? As I already explained, I have other obligations today." Micheal scowled at the glass, "You know you want it. I've seen you drink with father before, so drop the 'too holy to defile your temple' act." Lucifer tempted, but Micheal crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, "Suit yourself." He shrugged and shot the glass contents before returning to his desk and picking up the phone.

Lucifer summoned the four angels and sat back in his chair as Micheal took a seat across the desk from him. The two of them sat silently as he glanced over the contracts one last time. He was double-checking the dates when he remembered something from earlier.

"Uncle, do you know my wife?" He asked.

"I married you. Have you already forgotten?" He scoffed, crossing his legs at the knees.

"Before that. Before her fall." Lucifer clarified, and Micheal's eye's snapped up, but his emotions stayed the same, which was no surprise. Micheal had always somehow managed to keep his feelings suppressed around Lucifer, not allowing him to read what the angel was feeling. All he ever got was pride and a bit of annoyance, even when he was obviously mad.

"We've crossed paths before. Why?" His Uncle answered.

"No reason, just curious." He shrugged, looking back down at the contracts. It was only another minute or two before the doors opened, and in walked four angels, three men, and one woman. They lined up behind Micheal while Lucifer opened the top drawer of his desk. He took out a small stone bowl, a roll of bandages, a fountain pen, and an ancient but powerful blade that still made his insides clench whenever he saw it.

"Congratulations, boys and girl," Lucifer smirked, picking up the soul destroyer with his right hand and grabbing the blade with his left. He quickly pulled the blade from his closed fist and felt the searing pain as it bit into his palm. "Time to go home." Blood spilled from his now injured left hand, dripping into the stone bowl underneath. This continued until he judged there was enough for his needs. Lucifer opened his clinched fist and licked the bleeding wound while a plethora of scents filled the room, none of which were positive, causing him to smirk. After one more lick for good measure, he grabbed the roll of bandages and quickly wrapped the wounded hand while watching the angels shift uncomfortably in their spots, "When I call your name, step forward to my desk. I will sign the release on your contract and remove the ropes from your wings, and you may scurry over and join Micheal. Once you have all been signed off and unbound, Micheal will take you home, and I will go about my day, but rest assured, as time goes on, the thoughts and memories I've shared with each of you will never pass through my mind again." He explained, grabbing his glass of whiskey and taking a sip before pulling the first contract towards him, "Raymone Wiltshire." Lucifer called, dipping the fountain pen into his blood as the second angel in line stepped forward. Pressing the pen to the paper, he signed his name, and as the scarlet liquid marked the parchment, it glistened and turned from red to gold.