A/N: Hello everyone who is reading this!

This is the first chapter of the first story I've ever written, so I'm very excited and very nervous but I hope you like it!

Constructive criticism is always welcome. I know I'm not the greatest writer but this was an idea that just wouldn't leave me alone so I thought I'd give it a shot, but any help is appreciated.

Which brings me to giving the absolute biggest thanks to Mickey882 who is my incredible beta for this story! I'm 100 percent sure this wouldn't be even half as good without all their help so thank you so much!

Hope you enjoy

"Who in the hell are you?" Dean gruffly exclaimed, quickly drawing his gun and pointing it at the stranger who had just appeared in the warehouse, where the latest demon showdown had taken place. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam on his right, gun out and aim steady.

The well-dressed stranger sauntered closer to the brothers, a critical eye roaming over each of them. An amused smirk rested upon his lips, completely unfazed by the weapons pointed at him. "So," he began, unexpectedly in a British accent. "You're the infamous Winchester brothers, are you?" The sarcasm bled heavily through his tone.

"My brother asked you a question, but in case you missed it the first time, I'll repeat it for you. Who. The. Hell. Are. You?" Sam growled out, stance shifting slightly in agitation.

"Well that is the million-dollar question, isn't it?" he stated mockingly. A smug smile threatened to break out before his eyes seemingly darkened to pools of black. "You see, I've recently heard some rather worrisome news about a case of a stolen identity, mine in fact, so you can see why I simply had to come investigate myself. I mean, the audacity of some low-life stealing my name! That needed to be punished, obviously."

Throughout his speech the man had begun pacing in front of them, an entertained glint appearing in his eye as he noticed the guns following his path.

"So while I was investigating the activities of this imposter-" he spoke with disgust here, "-a common name began appearing, the Winchesters. Yourselves, obviously in case that wasn't evident. So, I decided to hunt you down and see if you could offer some explanation into the mess you've gotten yourselves into." Here he stopped pacing and turned to face the brothers expectantly as though they were supposed to make any sense of his words. His face quickly changed to realisation upon seeing the completely blank faces of the self-proclaimed 'Team Free Will'

"Oh my!" he exclaimed, placing a hand above his heart. "Where are my manners? How rude of me to not introduce myself." Hand still above his heart, he gave a shallow bow, his eyes on the men in front of him. "Lucifer Morningstar, at your service." He ended with a flourish and a charming smile. A loud bang suddenly echoed through the warehouse, and Lucifer's smile vanished.

Lucifer now sported a look of shock made gruesome by the rivets of blood slowly rolling down his face from the wide gaping hole in his forehead. He staggered as though drunk. One foot, then another, shuffled behind him in a hazy attempt to remain upright.

The brothers, meanwhile, were arguing. "God dammit, Dean! What in the hell did you do that for?!" Sam snapped.

"Dude said he was the devil, what did you expect me to do?!" Dean replied defensively, slightly turning his face away from Sam.

"Well if we're taking a vote, I personally would've gone for talking, as shooting me usually only does one thing. It gets me very annoyed, very quickly."

The pair whirled around at the sound of the British accent, just in time to see an irate looking Lucifer catch the bullet that had fallen out of the hole in his forehead. By the time the boys had looked up from his hand the skin was completely healed, although the blood remained. He rectified this by pulling a handkerchief out of one of the pockets of his suit and cleaning off his face.

"Oh, do try not to look so incredulous. Honestly, it's like you've never seen an immortal before." Lucifer sneered. "Now if you're quite done with all the murder and the shooting, perhaps we could sit down like the civilised people I'm sure you are under all that god-awful plaid―forgive me, Father―and discuss this, hmm?" He asked whilst simultaneously seeming to not ask at all.

Dean opened his mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his "discussion" when he noticed a pensive expression taking over his brother's face.

"Hell, Sammy, tell me you aren't really thinking about talking to this whack job?" He gestured to Lucifer with his gun as if there might have been some confusion as to who he was talking about.

"Well think about it, Dean! We just saw him come back from a bullet to the head after telling us he was Satan and you're telling me you aren't the least bit curious to know what's going on? And if he can give us any information about this damn apocalypse I'm inclined to at least hear him out before doing anything stupid, like I don't know, shooting him in the head maybe?" Patented Sam Winchester sass came out in full, accompanied with an eye roll of epic proportions.

While the brothers were focussed on themselves, Lucifer had noticed a familiar mark covering the floor of the warehouse in front of him. It was immediately recognisable to him as a Devil's Trap and he knew no such thing could hold him captive, so he began devising a plan that would get him his talk with the Winchesters. Hopefully with less maiming and more explaining.

Throwing his hands up in innocence Lucifer began slowly advancing on the brothers. "Look, we're all in the same boat here. We all want answers, so it would only make sense to try to find them together does it not? I'm not inclined to hurt you, if I were I'm sure it would have happened after I was shot in the head." There was a split second where the brothers' eyes dropped to the floor and then immediately flashed to one another's. Anyone else may have missed the exchange, as quick as it was, but Lucifer was not like everyone else.

"And what? We're just supposed to take your word for it?" asked Dean, hoping to goad the man into moving closer towards them.

Now on the outer edge of the Devil's Trap, Lucifer replied calmly, "Maybe not my word but certainly my actions. After all you're still alive and unharmed are you not?" While making his way through the Devil's Trap he started readying himself for the moment he hit the edge. "So how about we move this somewhere more comfortable, as I'm sure it will be a rather long chat we'll be having." As the last word left his mouth he stepped past the outside of the Devil's Trap, revelling in the perplexed look the Winchester's now donned.

Completely ignoring the spluttering he was sure would end in some inane and totally pointless question, Lucifer talked over them. "Surely you didn't actually think some juvenile scribbles on the floor would stop me, did you? Granted, the name can be misleading, but someone in your line of work should know better, shouldn't they?"

"What are you." Dean stated more than asked. A bead of sweat now slowly leaked down his hairline. His eyes were wide, flitting around. Knuckles white on the gun, he brought it close enough so that it almost touched Lucifer's chest.

Sam, unexpectedly, seemed almost calm. His eyebrows had furrowed and his lips were downturned thoughtfully. The gun that had previously been raised now rested against his leg, though his finger remained poised over the trigger.

"I'm quite sure I explained this already but in case your delicate human mind struggled with the concept, I suppose I could repeat myself. I'm Lucifer; The Devil, Satan himself, King of Hell, Lightbringer. I can go on if you would like?" Self-satisfied smile lingering at the edges of his mouth, he brought his arms behind his back, lightly crossing them. With his posture impeccable and his suit immaculate, he struck a very impressive and regal figure like this; effortlessly and unwittingly making his point more convincing.

Coming out of his thoughtful haze, expression clear and brimming with determination, Sam turned to his brother. "I think we should listen to him, Dean. We don't have to believe him but I think we need to at least hear what he has to say. He just walked right through a Devil's Trap and you're standing there with a gun to his chest and he's smiling, man. Look at him!"

Lucifer was indeed sporting an interested smile, while rocking back on to the balls of his feet in a slight swaying motion. He stopped as he noticed he had the attention of both brothers once again. "Oh, don't let me stop you from discussing my fate. Although if I may, I'd listen to the abnormally large one myself. He has some excellent points." He jerked his thumb towards Sam before continuing. "If at all possible though, do you think we could speed this up? I have a club to get back to," he finished with a pleasant grin.

"You want us to hurry up and talk to you so you can get back to a club and have drink? Is this guy for real?" Dean looked around wildly, hoping someone would pop up and tell him he was being pranked.

"It's not just any old club, it's my club. Lux it's called, lovely little place. You should come visit sometime if you're ever in LA." He gave the offer with genuine interest if they'd take it.

"Okay, okay! Hold on a second! You want me to believe that you're the Devil, that you live in LA and that you run a God damn night club?" His voice had gotten louder at the end.

"I'm sure my father would have some problems with my club, yes. It is rather, lively, shall we say." A deep knowing chuckle left his lips. "But indeed, that is precisely what I'm saying. Nice to know you're finally on board. I thought I'd lost you in the middle somewhere."

What followed was a small debate about where exactly they should talk. Dean, after finally caving to even having the conversation, was adamant that they shouldn't bring him back to their motel. While Sam argued that at least there they'd have privacy and they could be comfortable.

After silently watching this continue for a few minutes, eyes twinkling madly, Lucifer cut in. "Would now be a bad time to mention that I followed you here from the motel? A '67 Chevy Impala is rather hard to miss."

Dean was torn between irritation that this, whatever he was, knew where they were staying, and curiosity about his knowledge of cars. "What would you know about it, oh evil one?"

"I'm sure you'll see once we leave. Speaking of, shall we get a move on?" Clapping his hands enthusiastically, Lucifer turned on his heel and began striding to the exit. Hearing the boys scrambling to catch up with him, he paused momentarily and turned his head slightly to the right to speak to Sam. "You can travel with me, lest I be left alone to enact my nefarious plot of total world subjugation, yes?" And with that he continued on his path, once again leaving Sam and Dean in a state of bemusement.

"What is with this guy?" Dean's free hand was massaging his forehead, while his other was returning his gun to his waistband.

"I have no idea, but this is sure to be one hell of a chat." Sam responded warily.