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

Right. Lucifer considered himself again in the walk-in mirror. Was his bow-tie properly tied? The rest of the white tux was immaculate, but the tie...

Look, he'd managed to finally come out of hiding on the Rouge a few days ago. He'd spoken to miss Lopez, and discovered almost no time had passed. Which had come in handy for when Linda had come over to yell at him about how hard it was to find an elementary school for a child that was only a year old on paper. And then... time had gone on.

Amenadiel had yelled at him again, but he'd ignored that.

No, if they were going to be in Los Angeles, he was... going to try and take his mind off of the whole God mess. No one needed him self-actualizing anything else in a panic, right? So he'd arranged something special for tonight. A visit to the only magician's club in all the world...

"Now if only I could get this bloody bowtie right," he muttered, as he gave up, and finally stepped out of the walk-in, back into the apartment.

[[ for them, and based on Lucifer season 6 episode 1, 'Nothing Ever Changes Around Here'. ]]

They were back, and it was Duke and Lucifer's date night, and-- well. They had a pool room now. And a (second) sauna. If you think Lucifer hadn't moved some items down here just in case they got ideas in here...

"Please, make yourself comfortable," he told Duke, grinning. "I'll back with dinner in a moment."

And without waiting for a response, he swept back towards the stairs.

[[ for that guy ]]

Duke and Lucifer had had a lovely dinner, including some extended chattering about the upcoming house renovations (Lucifer had such ideas for the design of the pool). But something like a tired had settled in, or perhaps a desire for closeness - and so rather than retire immediately to the bedroom, they had chosen for some other naked pursuits.

"I do love the view from here," Lucifer said, settling back in the hot tub as he stared out over the landscape of the town. "That side of the island is much quieter. It's downright peaceful."

[[ for him ]]

Lucifer and Duke had decided that, all things considered, they would likely get better at avoiding massive emotional blowouts if they-- just spent some more time together. Talked. Connected.

You know. Had dates.

And so Lucifer had packed up shortly before Octavia left for the club, bringing with him all the ingredients necessary for an excellent penne arrabbiata with fresh parmesan. He was in the kitchen now, cooking.

Almost done.

Just waiting for Duke.

[[ for that guy ]]

They had missed Duke's birthday what felt like an eternity ago. Lucifer and Octavia both agreed they should make up for that, but they hadn't been able to settle on an idea that seemed-- appropriately but reasonably sized.

But Octavia wanted to learn how to cook, and... a celebration was better than none. They'd just have to save the big one for later.

As it stood, they'd asked Duke to take the Rouge to a particular island in the bay. Somewhere quiet, with nature as a backdrop. And then they'd sent him into the bedroom, while they...

Cooked.

"See? A paella isn't that difficult."

They were almost done.

[[ for them ]]

If it were up to Duke and Lucifer, they would stay. Of that, Lucifer was certain. Just as certain as he was of another truth: Octavia wasn't ready to leave Fandom behind, and if she wasn't feeling the pull to the island yet, then it would come soon.

So, grudgingly, Lucifer had made arrangements to return. Soon. But not quite yet.

And so he had vanished on Saturday while Duke and Octavia swam and hiked, to work on his piece de resistance - something to tempt them all to stay, something to embed some good memories that would call them back here again. More than anywhere else they'd been, this place had begun to feel like home. Lucifer wanted to celebrate it.

"Almost there," he called, as they walked around the path towards the little beach.

And then there, behind some bushes, it was: a small beach, private and untouched. He had set up a number of sturdy, wooden parasols with little round tables around them, and a small open-walled shack with a thatched roof, its sandy floor littered with seating pillows and foldable wooden mini-tables. At its back stood a lone refridgerator, stocked with their favorite drinks and a tasteful selection of snacks.

He had strung little fairy lights from each parasol, to the shack. They cast a warm glow upon the sand.

"Thought we should have a little private party."

[[ for them. ]]

Lucifer did not just like fancy food. He enjoyed all sorts of food, including junk food, if properly prepared with good ingredients. Duke seemed unwilling to believe this, despite copious attempts to prove the contrary.

Somehow, the latest edition of this argument had led to this: an impromptu lunch date in Baltimore. Specifically, a lunch date to go see some food trucks, get some excellent junk food, and go for a bit of a walk in the park. (Lucifer realized he was putting himself in danger of being yanked into another weird art museum just by being here, but he was willing to take this risk.)

"So apparently there's one that does a 'mac and cheese' cone," Lucifer said, craning his neck in hopes of spotting said truck. "I have absolutely no idea what that is, but I need it."

[[ for him ]]

The events of the weekend came to Lucifer slowly, in as much as they did at all. Felt like a dream, honestly, full of fuzzy good-feelings and a weird sense of dread about his eyes he couldn't quite place his finger on, waking up in this bed with two warm bodies.

He opened one eye slowly, squinting at the ceiling.

Then the other one.

Perfectly clear.

Huh.

"Huh."

[[ for thems who live here, if they wish ]]

They had still been processing everything that had happened recently when Duke's birthday had come and gone. Lucifer had registered the date too late to set up anything - but in the days leading up to it, he'd found out something quite exciting:

In at least one dimension close to Fandom's, the USS Constitution was about to embark on a rare trip along the Boston harbor.

And so Lucifer had set himself to a simple task: get Duke on that old warship when it did.

He had succeeded.

And so he had brought Duke and Octavia to Boston without telling the former why. He was about to find out. "Almost there," he said, as they rounded a corner-- and found themselves walking onto the Navy Yard, Old Ironsides' large masts now clearly visible to all.

[[ nfb due to distance and for them! ]]