If I may play the me's advocate for a moment...

They had traditions out here on Cat Island - or, well, ways to entertain the tourists that came through here week after week. Spirits had flowed freely well into the evening, and dances and costumes and all sorts of razzle dazzle had come through the diner and engulfed the docks in light.

But somewhere near the end of the evening, close to the big finale, three people wandered further and further away onto the beach. Lucifer, of course, was carrying a cooler in one hand, and his long, thin teal shirt hung loose and open around his body.

He was smiling a bit.

"I think we're almost far enough away," he said.

[[ for them ]]

Well, nothing had gone catastrophically wrong since Duke left yesterday. Octavia and Lucifer had taken their portal, and found themselves standing immediately in the sunshine. Whatever burdens had laid on Lucifer's shoulders, many of them sloughed off at the sight of the sand and the surf.

Sometimes he missed Los Angeles, still. The beach helped. And while the temperatures could have been higher, they were comfortable, much more so than Fandom. So he had stretched, and set up the Fin and Tonic for inhabitation for the next few weeks, and that had been all.

And now he was here. Sitting on the edge of their pier, a pina colada in one hand, wearing a swimsuit that didn't quite aspire to the heights (or lows) of Eric's small speedos, his legs kicking idly over the water. There was a peace here he was desperate to embrace. He could only hope Octavia could find a fraction of it, as well.

(And Duke, out there on his boat, processing his demons.)

[[ open for phone calls and she who is here ]]

Lucifer was beginning to wonder if he was the only one relaxing here at all. And if he was, then-- was he relaxing at all? He'd spent rather a lot of time worrying about his partners, and...

He took a swig from the bottle, his legs swinging idly off the pier. He was starting to feel almost like Duke, as if sad sailor vibes were somehow sexually transmissable, and--

There was a lood swoop.

"Lucy," said the tall black angel who towered behind him, mostly because he could. "It's been a year and I find you out here on vacation? Our home requests your presence!"

"Oh God," Lucifer groaned.

[[ for myself and anyone here who might want to interact with Amenadiel ]]

It sure had been some kind of weekend, hadn't it? A weekend that had profoundly mucked up all the progress they'd been making since Haven. Octavia and Duke, that was, leaving Lucifer utterly stumped as how to help.

After all, just about everything he tried seemed to blow back up in his face.

( Cut for casual narcotics use )

[[ nfb due to distance, open to texts, phone calls etc and those who are there ]]

They'd be heading home from their mini-cation soon enough. Duke's birthday had been celebrated in style - beach dinner and all - and then they had just... opted not to leave just yet.

Sorry, but a Devil's Nest shift just didn't weigh up against lounging around a beach with your two partners.

And that was where they were. Lucifer was stretched out on a beach towel, wearing his stars and stripes speedo, sunglasses, and a merry grin. Watching the water. And occasionally, the people rummaging around the water.

He could actually get himself to forget for five minutes that he was having a massive existential crisis about this entire affair. It was nice.

[[ for those who are here, and phone calls ]]