A clap of thunder shattered the air as Lucifer stepped out of his bedroom, straightening his jacket. He came to a halt, seeing the small figure next to the couch. She was taller than Beatrice, he noted, and swathed in a damp pink raincoat. "I hate it when that happens," the little girl observed. "Never sure if it means something, or if it's just coincidence." Seeing Lucifer's bewildered stare, she clarified, "The thunder. I'm not a harbinger... at least, I don't think I am."

"The club's downstairs," Lucifer informed her, still looking puzzled. "And not open yet. And I don't think a fake ID exists that would get you served."

The child pushed back her hood, tossing her shoulder-length blond hair out of her eyes. "Hi, Lucifer," she responded, letting her backpack slide to the ground. "It's Rae."

"Rae? Azrael?" Lucifer stared at his little sister, not entirely comprehending. "It's been a while. What in the world are you doing in that body?"

"That's complicated," Azrael replied, not quite meeting his gaze. "I could really use a drink."

"Milk?" Lucifer suggested flippantly.

Azrael sighed and unzipped the raincoat, easing it from her shoulders and draping it carefully over the back of a chair. "Something stronger, if you wouldn't mind?"

Lucifer moved to pour a scotch, and one for himself as well. "What are you wearing?" he asked, his lips curving despite himself. "

Not my choice," Azrael replied tersely, moving to take the drink and dismissing the long-sleeved My Little Pony shirt with a wry headshake. "Michael thinks he's funny. You know… pale horse. Thanks," she added, knocking back a swallow of her drink and closing her eyes for a moment.

"Azrael," Lucifer pressed, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Why are you here?"

"Sorry. I… this is hard, okay?" Azrael sank into one of the chairs, then looked up, finally meeting Lucifer's gaze. "Father sent me."

"Dear old Dad recruited you to try and talk me back to Hell? Well, little sister, looking cute won't do it. I don't even like children… and you could have at least tried pigtails."

"Ew. No. I…" Azrael closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled a deep breath, then met her brother's gaze, her own dark eyes damp. "Lucifer, Uriel's dead. Gone. Permanently. And it's my fault. So Father sent me—"

"Wait, what?" Lucifer interrupted. "Your fault? How do you figure?"

Azrael took another, more cautious drink, though her attention seemed more on formulating her words than on the drink. "Uri took my blade. I—in my pride, I wasn't paying attention, assumed nobody would—and he brought it here, and it was turned against him. Apparently took out some humans as well."

"Who told you this? Dad?" "No. Michael. Our father… isn't exactly speaking to me, hasn't for a while." Azrael took a deep breath. "So I'm sent here, in this ridiculous body, to atone." Brow furrowing, she added, "You don't seem surprised about Uriel, brother."

Lucifer moved to his own chair. He sat, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. "No," he agreed softly. "I'm not." He took a deep breath. "Rae, he came here to force me to send Mum back to Hell, and threatened someone I… a good friend. I killed him. I didn't have a choice. He would have killed Mum."

Azrael stared at her brother, brown eyes wide. "Mum—Mom's not in Hell? And you killed our brother? With my blade?" The little girl slumped against the back of her chair. "And I'm the one being punished for his death. Typical."

"Rae, where have you been?" Lucifer inquired, with a hint of exasperation. Mum escaped from Hell some time ago."

Azrael gestured to herself, after a flicker of hesitation. "Angel of Death, remember? I've been busy. But now Remiel's in charge in Hell and I have no idea who's doing my job, but it certainly isn't me."

"Wait, go back," Lucifer suggested, holding up one hand as his sister's earlier words registered. "Dear old Dad sent you to me to be punished?"

"For something that, it seems, isn't entirely my fault," Azrael confirmed, looking just a little exasperated, but not really surprised.

Lucifer sat up. "And I see no need to punish you for it," he agreed.

Azrael shook her head. "Michael said I can't have my job back-or my body-until I have atoned sufficiently for my pride," she replied. "Lucifer… please."

"So you want to stay here?" Lucifer sighed. "Fine. You can use Maze's old room."

Azrael's eyes widened. "Mazikeen is here?" She paused, then exhaled a short, humorless laugh. "Well, where else would she be."

"Whereas I haven't seen you in years," Lucifer replied. "Not since before I left Hell."

Azrael nodded, taking a moment to glance around the room before she answered. "You know how it is. One day and then another, and you turn around and it's been years. The job..."

"Sis, maybe it's not so bad that you're getting a break," Lucifer suggested. "When's the last time you had a real vacation?"

Shaking her head, Azrael inquired, "What, Death Takes a Holiday? I honestly don't remember. Did see the Brad Pitt version, though. Why does everyone assume I'm a man?" Her jaw tightened, and she was silent for a moment. "It's hard, but I'm good at it, you know? And Dad just... took it away. All of it. I walked through the humans on my way here. I couldn't tell when they're going to die, where they'll go when they do. All the skills to do my job, they're gone."

Expression gone serious, Lucifer asked, "Everything? Rae, you'll have to be careful. If you can be hurt..."

Brows furrowed, Azrael admitted, "I'm not sure if I can be or not. Got a knife?"

"You're not serious." When Azrael didn't reply, Lucifer shook his head. "Azrael, don't be stupid."

"But she's so good at it," Mazikeen called as she moved from the penthouse entrance to her former room. "Just looking for something; I think I forgot it here. Your sister finally show her face, Lucifer?"

Lucifer made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough. "In a manner of speaking. Come see, Maze!"

"Lucifer!" Azrael hissed. "Could you please not?"

But it was too late. Maze sauntered into the room, tucking something into her pocket. "Well, well, well," she drawled. She started to continue, but then caught sight of Azrael. While Maze did not actually fall over, she did have to lean against the wall as she laughed. For several moments, she couldn't speak, but eventually she straightened, wiping at one eye. "Oh, that felt good. What stupid thing do you want to do now, Teen Angel?"

"Oh, I don't think she looks old enough to be a teenager, do you, Maze?" Lucifer studied his sister critically. "Stand up, Rae, let's see how tall you are."

"No," Azrael responded wearily. "Michael put some paperwork in my bag. I'm sure there's a birth certificate."

Maze grinned maliciously at Lucifer. "She's talking back already. Better set some ground rules."

"Oh, definitely," Lucifer agreed absently, much to Azrael's chagrin. "Maze, you've got a knife handy, yes? No-not one of those," he amended,adding to Azrael, "Best to find out now, don't you think? And Maze does know her knives."

Mazikeen replaced the wickedly curved demon blade and slipped a thin dagger from her boot. "Who am I stabbing today?"

Warily, Azrael lifted one hand. "I'd really rather do it my-"

"You think I'm letting you touch my knife? Think again." In an instant, Maze was at Azrael's side, smirking as the girl shrank against the back of her seat.

Watching shrewdly, Lucifer chided, "We just want to see if she'll bleed, Maze. No need to scare her."

Her dark gaze not leaving Azrael's, Maze asked softly, "You scared of me, Tiny Death?"

When Azrael didn't speak, Maze extended a hand. Hesitantly, Azrael placed her own hand in Maze's, palm up. All three watched as the demon opened the thinnest of cuts on Azrael's finger, and then as several drops of blood welled from the cut. Azrael pulled her hand from Maze's grip to study the blood, eyes wide.

After cleaning her blade, Maze returned it to its spot. "Well, my work here is done. Lucifer, you'll explain all this?"

"Yes, of course, Maze. Later." Lucifer's gaze remained on his sister, his expression thoughtful.

Maze shook her head and turned to leave, casting a final look over her shoulder at Azrael as she did.

"Where is my blade?" Azrael asked quietly, still not looking up from her hand.

"Somewhere safe."

Looking up, Azrael spoke a fraction more loudly. "Where is it, Lucifer? I can bring it back to the Silver City, and Dad can... undo this."

"He wouldn't." Lucifer moved to crouch before his sister's chair. "Rae, even if I told you where it is, you can't touch it anymore. You know what it does to mortals."

Azrael flinched, as if she had been struck, then closed her eyes for a moment. "Yes." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Luci, I know you're not one for hugging, but-"

Before she finished speaking, Lucifer gathered Azrael into his arms. "Shh," he soothed. "It'll be okay, little sis."

After a long moment, Azrael pulled away, wiping quickly at her eyes. "How, exactly?" "I haven't quite worked that bit out," Lucifer admitted. "But it will."