Devil's Advocate

When Angelique opened her eyes again the office was gone. She was staring up at a familiar ceiling, with a few off color stains in odd places. Her ceiling. She was home? Perhaps it was all a dream. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, her hand automatically flying to rest on her forehead as pain screamed behind her eyes. It was like a horrid hang over, but without any fun memories. She swallowed past the feel of cotton at the back of her throat and slowly sat up. This was definitely her apartment. Her battered old couch was underneath her, but one of the cushions was missing. And there was a new stain on the arm and halfway across the back of it. It was dark, and smelled like…Angelique shook her head and tried to block out the copper undertone smell of the blood. So that meant it wasn’t a dream. Moving the fingers of her hand that still rested against her forehead, she found a small scar across her forehead, directly above her right eye. She felt her stomach heave and bile creep up her throat.

“Wait until I leave to do that.” The cool, clear voice of the devil sounded from her dining room. She turned slowly, hand still to her head, and choked back the bile. There he sat in his expensive looking suit at her little dining room table, tumbler of whiskey refilled and still in his hands. He looked so out of place, the scuffs on her table almost a mockery of how well put together he looked. The chips in the paint on the legs of the chair looking for all the world like they didn’t belong next to his perfectly pressed dress pants. It was comical. With a stifled snort of laughter, Angelique made her way over to the table and sat across from Lucifer, folding her hands on the table in front of her.

“So that definitely wasn’t a dream. Great.” She said, proud of herself for keeping her voice steady.

“I’m afraid not.” The tint of amusement was back in Lucifer’s cold voice. He slid something across the table. “You forgot this.” It was that red and grey file. Scott’s file. Angelique picked it up, ignoring his statement about ‘forgetting’ it

“Why do I need this?” she asked, flipping through the file idly. She could almost feel the devil roll his eyes, despite not looking at him.

“You need that, because it will tell you any major decisions Scott makes in his life. That file is ever changing. You can follow most, if not all of, his entire life in there. Or at least. The bigger pieces of it. However, it only changes or shows up when the decision has been made, 100%.”

“Well that’s an inconvenient plot device.” She murmured, setting the file down.

“Forgive me. If you want all knowing, perhaps you should have attempted to deal with the other team.” The sarcasm in Lucifer’s voice was thick and biting. It made Angelique bristle. She had gotten herself into this situation, true, but she did not appreciate his attitude.

“That was an option?” she shot back, adrenaline making her forget whom she was speaking with. The devil barked out a laugh so suddenly it startled her, her hand raising to rest on her chest. The sound of genuine amusement sounded so foreign on his lips that she shivered, chills racing down her spine. She stared at him until he calmed enough to shoot her a toothy grin, those sharp teeth flashing in her dim light.

“I am glad I don’t know everything.” He said. “I would hate to miss out on comedic moments by knowing what was going to be said. It was Angelique’s turn to roll her eyes, so hard she wanted him to feel it. Now he was taking amusement from her frustration. Lovely. Clearing her throat to cover up any hateful thoughts that were trying to make their way through her mind she held the file up again.

“Anything else I should know?” she asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

“Only if you think of the right questions to ask.” He answered, not missing a beat. Angelique would never admit it out loud, but having someone to banter with that was quick witted, made her just a little bit happy. The fact that it was the devil not withstanding of course. She put some thought on it. What did she need to know? Her eyes drifted to the stains on the wall, a chill gripping the back of her neck briefly, like an icy hand. Yes, that was a good question.

“Ok. So let’s say I find the guy, and he decides blowing my brains out once was not enough. Do I get sent back down to you, or what?”

“That won’t affect you.” He assured, taking a long pull of the whiskey. “Your body will heal all damage it takes now. You’re already dead, can’t die twice, and all that jazz. However ‘can’t die’ does not equate to ‘can’t feel pain’. Make sure you remember that. Probably best to avoid that scenario, yeah?” He gave her a condescending smirk, to which she nodded her head. The idea of feeling pains that should kill her but being unable to die made her stomach turn. She thought for another moment, finally settling on her next question.

“How do I know when I’m out of time?” Lucifer took the file from her and opened it to the back, setting it out on the table. Angelique leaned forward, examining the blank pages that he was gesturing to with interest.

“When the last blank page gets full, Scott has reached the end of his life. Which is why you had no blank pages in your own file. So in terms you can understand, when that page starts filling up, best move your ass.”

“Got it.” An awful thought suddenly gripped her. “What is going to happen if Scott gets ahold of this, or worse destroys it?”

“You lose your advantage.” He answered with a casual shrug. His eyes suddenly snapped to hers, flashing blue fire. “And I lose my temper. Best not let that happen, little Angel.”

“Do not call me that.” She growled out at him. Her mother’s nickname for her sounded so off falling from the devil’s lips. He gave her a mocking smile and a half bow, but otherwise gave no response. Angelique bit her lip and tried to think of anything else to ask, but her head was totally empty. This felt more like a video game than a real life situation. Or would that be real death situation? She snorted to stifle the snicker at her own joke and decided to put a bit of insurance in play.

“Let’s say that I need to get ahold of you in the future. How would I do that?”

“Why would you assume I would want to speak with you?” Was he teasing her? That was uncomfortable. She glared.

“I’m serious. If I need you, how do I get ahold of you?” He gave her a positively wicked smirk.

“With the taste of your lips still on my mouth, that is a dangerous question.”

“Answer it without the innuendo please.” She grumbled at him. He laughed.

“You are just no fun.” He stood to his feet and gulped down the rest of his whiskey, sliding the now empty tumbler across the table. “Break this. I’ll come help you. You only get one favor though.” Angelique opened her mouth to reply but before she could blink he was gone. Just vanished right out of her sight. Muttering a few choice words under her breath, she walked back to her bedroom and grabbed a notebook and a pen, making her way back to the table slowly. Taking a seat, she opened Scott’s file and copied down all of his basic information, just in case said file did get lost or stolen. She’d at least have a baseline. Anything and everything useful for finding him if need be, she added to the notebook. Scrolling through the information a second time, more slowly to make sure she didn’t miss anything important, she was upset to learn she was not his first murder victim. More than likely she wouldn’t be the last either. Unless she got to him first. No pressure, Angelique told herself with almost bitter sarcasm. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. High levels of sarcastic rage would not help anything right now. She had set herself up for this by accepting these parameters. She could have just as easily rejected the devil’s deal after all. But she didn’t. Now she had to live with her decision and find this guy. She flipped through the file, looking at some of the more recent info even more closely, trying to find a pattern that she could start with. And there it was. After he disposed of the things he stole, he took the money to the bank and deposited it into a savings account. Angelique felt a spark of rage flare up before she tampered it back down with another deep breath. No. That was Scott’s sin, not hers. Besides, she was dead. What did she care for material things now? She paused for a moment with a grin as she thought of all those songs and stories that made a very clear and slightly haunting point: you don’t get to take riches with you when you go. Made everything pretty pointless in the grand scheme of things.

“Stop it.” She told herself aloud with a shake of her head. She couldn’t be thinking like that. A quick flip through the phone book later, and she had the address for the bank. It was only a short bus ride away if she remembered correctly. She would just pull some cash and then she could just…wait. A spark of annoyance hit her as she realized she was dead. Her accounts were closed. She had no money to take the bus. Or for anything else for that matter. How on earth was she supposed to function in a money central world without money? Grumbling to herself, Angelique supposed this was one of those questions she should have asked Lucifer while he was here. Her eyes flashed briefly to the tumbler on the table. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands for a moment before setting it back on the table. No, this was not what she was going to call in her favor for. He was nice enough to give her that favor in the first place, she wasn’t going to call for him until she was at least halfway up shit creek. For now, she thought to herself with a sigh, she could just walk. It wasn’t too terribly far, and it’s not like the trek would kill her. Chuckling to herself at her own joke, Angelique grabbed her laptop bag. She was briefly annoyed again at the fact that Scott stole her laptop, but didn’t take the bag. She shook her head and put that frustration away. It didn’t help her. She would save it until it did. She slid the file in the outside pocket and placed the spiral on the inside. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she walked out of her apartment. It was honestly a little freeing, getting to walk out and head down the street without worrying about locking her door. Not like there was anything worth stealing in her apartment now. She moved quickly down the stairs and started to turn the corner before stopping dead in her tracks. She had forgotten something. Dashing back up the stairs and into the apartment, she power walked over to the table and grabbled that tumbler, putting it carefully into the bag in the zipper pocket. There. Now there was nothing in the apartment worth stealing. However…Angelique took a quick look around just to be triple sure before she took off again out the apartment, down the stairs, and off down the street.

The bank in question was a fairly popular one. Fliers for the annual canned food drive littered the telephone polls for a block and a half before the actual bank entrance. Angelique briefly wondered how many cans they took in over the years. How many people that fed. Did contributing to canned food drives make any sort of impact on how much other sin you committed? Or was there only a like cancels out like policy on sinning? If contributing did make a difference, how many good deeds canceled out a bad deed? Or how many bad deeds before you were marked as a sinner? Perhaps if…BANG! Angelique’s body jolted as she ended up flat on her back on the side walk, her ears ringing and her shoulder aching. What the hell?

“I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” Angelique opened her eyes slowly as the pins and needles feeling shot through her shoulder where she hit…oh. There was a man hovering over her. He was taller than Lucifer, a thought that made her almost bark out a laugh. His curly brown hair hung down in his face, hiding chocolate brown eyes. He was tan skinned with an average body. He wasn’t heavy, but couldn’t be called athletic either. He was holding out a hand to her, concern etched in his handsome face.

“Are you badly hurt? You went down pretty hard.” His voice lifted on the end of his sentence, like he was trying to make a joke. Angelique nodded her head slowly and reached out for his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“I’m fine. Sorry. Yes. I’m fine, thank you.” He smiled at her, revealing perfectly straight teeth, although he looked like he had a bit of an overbite. Angelique supposed he was handsome, but she wasn’t overly concerned with that. She smiled back at him before a cold bolt of panic shot through her. Her bag. Where was her bag? Her eyes darted around for a brief moment before she spotted it. Her face paled when she saw all her papers blowing in the wind. Scott’s file. She rushed over to pick up the papers, trying to hurry and shove them back in her bag, not even bothering to thank the handsome stranger for helping her up. She vaguely heard his footsteps walking up behind her.

“Here let me help you.” It was that stranger, same handsome one that helped her to her feet. She felt even more panic rush through her.

“No no. Really. It’s alright.” He wasn’t listening to her. He was handing her bits of paper when suddenly he froze, picking up a sheet and holding it up to her. It was the first page, with the overview of Scott on it.

“Who are you? And why the hell do you have this?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Because,” he growled out, leaning close to her in an intimidating manner. “Scott Penn is my brother.”