I hope you all enjoy the new story! I was listening to a couple of my favorite songs (Angel With A Shotgun and Your Guardian Angel) and I just loved the idea of them using the guardian angel angle in the show, so I did it.

Also, I changed how old Chloe was when her dad died. There will—unfortunately—be no Hot Tub High School in this universe, at least not with Chloe Decker.

PROLOGUE

Landing behind the small cottage, Amenadiel closed his wings quietly, moving towards the window. A man sat on a couch in the middle of the room, his arms wrapped around his silently weeping wife as she held something small tight to her chest. Even though there were tears rolling down his cheeks as well, he soothingly stroked her hair as he rocked them gently back and forth.

"I…I was just s-so sure that this time…this time would be the t-t-time," she murmured, turning her face into his neck. "W-we spent everything on the…the treatments!" she cried with a shudder, fresh sobs wracking her petite body.

The man simply pulled her tighter to him, clenching his eyes closed as his head turned Heaven-wards.

His inner prayer rang through the first Angel's head, the inner pain there surprising Amenadiel. Please, please stop making her hurt this way.

In the Angel's—minimal—contact with humans, he'd always thought of them as…selfish, for lack of a better term. The free will that his Father had given them tended to make them think of what was best for themselves, not others. Their money, status, reputation…that was what they cared about. Yet this husband just wanted his wife to not feel pain anymore, despite being in pain himself.

Amenadiel, for the first time since his Father gave him this mission, could almost see why God would put His hand into this couple's infertility, something He had never done before. The man was definitely a good one, an incorruptible cop who chose his job to do the right thing. The woman, even though she had moments of weakness, was a good person with good intentions. Whoever they were now destined to procreate, they no doubt would do something very important with their blessed life.

Turning his own face to the Heavens, he slowed time, lifting the small blessing in his palm. As You will it, Father, he thought, eyes sliding closed, so shall it be. He breathed out slowly, letting the small breath blow the small blessing to its destination.

Oh, if only the humans knew what a gift they were being given; not only did they get their wish, but they would raise the only baby God had ever completely gifted to a human.

He opened his eyes as the weight of the blessing left his hand, travelling easily through the walls and landing on the woman's abdomen, spreading throughout her. For a moment, the Angel allowed himself to watch the light that illuminated her womb, allowed himself a small smile at a job well done, but knew better than to stay for too long. As time started once again, Amenadiel watched the humans, noting the way that the woman gave a small gasp of shock.

As Penelope Decker's eyes raised to John's, the Angel saw her mouth break in a shaky smile, love bursting from her. "We…we should stop trying," she said, hand resting on her flat stomach. "Let's just…do it the old fashioned way. Let Fate decide if and when we get…what we want."

Though he looked confused, John nodded slowly, answering, "I think that's a great idea."

Unable to stop the small grin on his face, Amenadiel turned away, wings unfurling. Now he just needed to do the hard part.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Lucifer lounged on his throne, staring out amongst the infinite expanses of rooms as the shrieks of the Damned echoed through the void. After Abel had arrived in Hell, the Devil had taken great pains to find worthy ways to punish those that began to surround him, using their guilt against them for all eternity. Once upon a time, it had even brought him joy to do so.

But things were becoming tedious in Hell, even as the demons became more and more creative with how they did their jobs.

It was all so…predictable.

His head fell back in disappointment, his eyes sliding closed. Once upon a time, he'd made his jail into a personal resort, finding the fun in making sure the guilty were punished. But after so long as the same thing, day in and day out….

"Lucifer," Maze purred from his side, resting both elbows on the arm rest beside his legs, "Abaddon is here to speak with you; seems some of the maximum security souls are becoming aware of their doors. She wants to…shake things up." A wicked grin widened on her face. "She has some truly great ideas for what to do to them."

His head still flung back over the other side of the throne, he waved his glass at her. "Tell her that the Abyss is her domain; I leave it completely in her capable hands." He glanced briefly at her. "If it's got you so hot and bothered, you're free to join her in the remodel. I don't need you to stand watch over me when no one dares to come anywhere near the throne."

The demon sighed in annoyance, standing up straight and crossing her arms over her chest. "Seriously?" she demanded, voice hard as she glared at him. "What is going on with you? You're supposed to be the Lord of Hell, yet you don't seem to care about any of it."

"It's all mind-numbingly boring, Mazikeen," Lucifer complained, shifting to slowly stand. Pulling at his collar, he added, "I mean, everything's the same as it has been since we opened for business. Those souls out there torture themselves for the most part; there's nothing for us to actually do!"

Her eyes narrowed sharply. "Lucifer, you're the Devil. You are the one that's supposed to keep an eye on everything down here! On every one of us!" She threw her hands up in the air. "You've been in this funk since you came back from your vacation to Earth! Why isn't all of this good enough for you?" she demanded, swinging her hand out to gesture to the whole of Hell. "You get to punish the guilty, do whatever you want!"

"Not whatever I want," he sighed, straightening his sleeves as he heard the Gates creaking open. "It seems my brother is coming to give me orders. Again."

Maze spun around, pulling free two of her knives to spin on her fingers. "What the hell is he doing here? You haven't even been to the surface lately!"

"I've no idea," he drawled, eyes flashing red as Amenadiel flew closer. "But I suppose we'll find out shortly, won't we?"

"Lucifer," Amenadiel greeted shortly as he landed to face his younger brother. Nodding to the demon beside his brother, he added, "Mazikeen. I have to speak with my brother. Privately."

She gave a short laugh. "As if, virgin. Every time you pop up, the two of you come to blows, so I think I'll stick around."

The Angel raised his eyebrow, letting the moment hang between them. When it became apparent that he wouldn't be scaring Maze into backing down, however, he sighed, looking back to his brother. "Father sent me to offer you…a deal."

Surprise made Lucifer sputter as he shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. "Oh, that's rich, Brother," he chuckled, shaking his head and letting a wide smile part his face. "Dear old Dad wants to make a deal with me? The son He cast out and made a monster?"

Amenadiel rolled his eyes, saying, "You rebelled, Samael—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" the Devil interrupted, wagging his finger mockingly in his brother's face. "That part of me died when Father had me thrown from my home!" He laughed some more, looking over his shoulder at Maze. "Can you believe this? Oh, how the mighty have fallen, brother!" The older Angel's wings flared threateningly, forcing Lucifer's to do the same. "Seems I touched a nerve," he murmured, eyes flashing dangerously.

"Trust me, brother; I wouldn't have come here if it weren't for Father's orders," Amenadiel answered through a clenched jaw, keeping his gaze on his brother's. "I would have never done this without His asking me to. In fact, I'm still questioning why He would even bother to."

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer quipped, "Ah, yes, ever the dutiful son, doing whatever Daddy dearest asks of you. Tell me, did He actually speak to you this time or is this another loose interpretation of His will?"

In a flash, Amenadiel had his younger brother by the throat, his hold just strong enough to surprise him. "Father is showing you benevolence; I suggest you appreciate it."

"You all claim that He was showing me benevolence when He threw me into the Pits of Hell," Lucifer retaliated with a smirk. "What's so great about this deal that you think I should appreciate it? What makes it benevolent?"

With a snarl, Amenadiel thrust him away, taking small pleasure in the sight of his rebellious brother stumbling a bit. I hope You know what You're doing, he prayed with a glance up before sighing, "He's willing to let you leave Hell, go to Earth."

That gave Lucifer pause, shock apparent on his face for the briefest moment before he covered it up with his usual bravado. "Oh-ho!" he cried, putting his hands in his pockets as he leaned heavily forward. "Dad wants me to go up top with His precious humans? After everything He's had his Prophets write about me? This has got to be good!" he chuckled, eyes blazing with excitement. "What's so important that He would let me loose on the mortals?"

It was Amenadiel's turn to smirk. "He wants you to become a Guardian Angel for a human that will be born in eleven months time."

"Ha!" Lucifer laughed. "First of all, I believe the gestation period for humans is only nine months. Are you sure it isn't a horse you're thinking of? Secondly, why would do you think He would ever trust me with a human life?"

Amenadiel, for the first time in millennia, really studied his brother. Years of ruling Hell hadn't fully extinguished the once-blazing flame that had given Lucifer his name. It flickered in the back of his eyes with intrigue as he waited for the older Angel to answer.

After so many eons, why did he want so desperately to go to Earth? He had always seemed to enjoy his position as King of Hell, tormenting the souls of the Damned; why wouldn't he want to stay in his precious kingdom, being the king of the free will he had fought so hard for?

"The human is special," Amenadiel answered slowly, crossing his arms over his chest in case this was another game Lucifer was playing. "Father sent me to bless a couple with a child, a man and wife not meant to have children. Whoever that child will turn out to be, they are important and will need to be protected."

Anger flashed across the Lightbringer's face, twisting his smile into something dangerous, predatory. "So, Father thinks He can discard me for a few millennia then pick me back up because He wants to make sure some mortal survives an extra couple of decades?"

His laughter was dark, echoing monstrously throughout the void that expanded forever around them. It was almost as if Hell itself vibrated with the fury of its king, circling the Angel better than any army. Wings flexing in defensively, Amenadiel cross his arms over his chest, planting his feet. Though the demons were far below and would never make it to the precipice that the throne sat on, he knew that Hell would do as Lucifer bade it, the same way the Silver City responded to Father. If they fought, Lucifer would be able to control the very ground on which his older brother stood.

True nature flickering over his features, pure white wings lifted themselves aggressively, the red light of flames giving them an almost blood-stained appearance. This was who his brother had become in his punishment, a ruined Angel with only the glory of his feathers to suggest he had once been anything other than a monster.

He might be the most dangerous being left in existence. Amenadiel banished the errant thought immediately. The Morningstar was little more than a petulant, selfish child unable to understand what duty and honor meant. Life was a party to him and he would always be looking for the next one.

"Lucifer," AMenadiel murmured, forcing himself to remain calm so as not to stoke the Hellfire any longer, "you know you can't deny Him for long; He has His ways of punishing those who displease Him. Even if they were once His favorite son."

Lucifer snarled through a white smirk, "You can tell Him, from His favorite son, that He can shove His deal where the sun doesn't shine. And, for once, that doesn't mean Hell."

Rage erupting at the insult to their Father, the first born couldn't keep his fist from flying, landing with a resounding crack against Lucifer's jaw, sending the other Angel flying into his throne. This isn't going well, the logical part of his brain admonished, but the angry part of him chuckled with glee as his brother struggled to his feet.

Hissing as his hand went to his limply hanging jaw, the Devil punched the opposite side of his face with all his might, forcing the joint back into place. "Not a great way to ask for a favor, brother," he growled, wiggling his jaw to make sure it would heal in the right place. "Especially when the only leverage you have is Father's word that He'll allow me topside, knowing damn well that I can do that whenever I want."

"The difference, Samael," Amenadiel gritted through clenched teeth, "is that no Angel under Father's command will be allowed to hinder you in any way while the human is alive. You will be permitted to do anything deemed necessary to keep them safe."

Flipping his suit jacket out of the way, Lucifer sat on his throne, contemplating his brother with one hand under his chin as he crossed one leg over the other. "So what you're saying is Father would be giving me free reign to do as I please with no annoying celestial interference? Anything in the name of protecting human spawn?"

Even though he knew Lucifer would twist the words for his own gain, Amenadiel sighed, "Yes."

"And there will be no summons back to Hell so long as the human makes it through their mortal life?"

"Yes."

As he studied his brother, the Devil tapped a finger to his cheek, the wheels clearly grinding behind his eyes, whether to find a loophole he could use or might be used against him. There was clearly something nefarious behind this plan, though he couldn't quite piece together what yet. If the human that would be born was really so special, why not send another of His children to do the dirty work? Why would He trust His long-forgotten son with such an important task?

What could possibly be Father's plan?

"Let's say I take on this task; what's to tell me if the human is in trouble? Surely, He doesn't expect me to simply hover over the mortal day in and day out, stopping every hangnail?" the Devil questioned, shifting his legs as he evaluated his brother's every movement, looking for any sign of subterfuge and finding none. Amenadiel was clearly annoyed at the very prospect of cutting this deal.

"You'll be given the Guardian's Mark," his brother answered, the vein in his temple throbbing noticeably.

Sputtering as he leaned forward in surprise, Lucifer gasped, "Me?! A Guardian's Mark?! Those are permanent!" And highly regarded as one of Father's most treasured gifts to an Angel. Guardian Angels were nearly as high ranking as Archangels and probably twice as respected. Though it was rare for one Angel to be assigned to a particular human, they were the ones that made sure His plan stayed on the rails. And He was offering one to the Lord of Hell?!

"Obviously, it would become dormant once the human passed from the mortal realm," Amenadiel quickly answered, waving off any idea Lucifer might have had about becoming a Guardian. "This is only for this one human; there's no way Father will give you that kind of freedom."

The words riled Lucifer just as his brother hadn't intended, stoking the fire of betrayal that always flickered within him. "It seems that this one human, however, is quite important," he drawled, twisting his coin lazily over and under his fingers. "And Father wants me—specifically—desperately enough to allow me among His precious humans."

That certainly got a reaction. Righteous indignation flashed through Amenadiel's gaze before it was replaced with his usual stoicism. "Twist it however you'd like, brother," he said quietly, "but if you take this assignment, you'll simply be doing Father's bidding, like a dutiful, loving son."

With little more than a whoosh of air, the older Angel disappeared, no doubt returning to the Silver City patting his own back for getting the final word for the first time in eons.

Rolling his eyes in disdain, Lucifer stared at his coin, unfocused and furious. His Father certainly had figured out the perfect way to weasel His son into whatever the Hell it was He wanted from him. Perhaps it was a test, a question of whether the Devil would bow down once again. Or maybe it was simply his Father playing games, taunting Lucifer with the knowledge that he wasn't worthy.

Now there was a decision to make, of course. The only way for him to figure out God's true plan was to become a Guardian Angel, watching over a human for a few decades before being banished back to Hell. Earth might be his only chance to find his answers, however, and what were a handful of decades amongst the centuries he'd been in Hell? He could wait out a mortal. And if it truly was a trap set by his Father, he could simply let the human die, thwarting whatever grand purpose God intended them for.

Looking up towards where he'd fallen, Lucifer announced, "I'll accept Your terms on one condition: Mazikeen will join me on my…adventure."

The only answer he received was an intense burning between where his wings lay hidden, the symbol of the pentagram searing into his flesh. When he roared in pain, Hell answered, rumbling soothingly as if to assure him that it would be alright.

Mazikeen immediately appeared at his right hand, twirling her twin blades as she scouted the area. "What the Hell is going on?! What did he do to you?!" she demanded, the burnt half of her face twisting into an animalistic snarl.

"Not Amenadiel," Lucifer gritted as the pain began to wane. "My Father is simply signing our deal."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Eleven months on Earth was almost a full century in Hell and Lucifer had nearly forgotten his Father's deal when the Mark started to itch on his back. Over the course of a few days—just a couple of hours on Earth, he supposed—it became impossible to ignore, becoming so hot that it singed through the suit he wore.

"Bloody Hell, Maze," he'd grumbled as he used a particularly dull edge of his throne to scratch the Mark, looking up towards the barrier that kept his home secure. "I think it's our time to go up."

And, sure enough, when the pain became to much to bear, he simply…poofed. One blink of the eye was all it took and he and Maze were in a hospital, the beeping sound of the mortals' machines a far cry from the screams of the damned. They stood, side by side, in front of a large window displaying a multitude of infants in different states of displeasure. Some were clearly shrieking against the chests of the nurses trying to rock them, other's just contorting their faces before they too began to cry.

And in the middle of all the chaos laid one baby girl, if all the pink was anything to go by, calm as could be, staring dazedly towards the window. In that moment, Lucifer knew exactly would he was meant to protect, the idea still needling him as the unfocused gaze of the newborn disappeared behind her eyelids. Though all the other children clearly had some idea of who had just joined them in the wing, the tiny little girl seemed at peace with it, unbothered.

Squinting at the little container they had her in, the Devil read the nearly illegible scrawl that announced her name to the world.

Chloe Jane Decker.

What an absolutely boring name.

-.-.-.-.-.-

For the first few years of the child's life, Lucifer's Mark stayed dormant, allowing him to blaze a path through Los Angeles—of course the miracle blessing child was residing in the City of Angels—and it's wonderful underbelly. He enjoyed parties, orgies, drugs, alcohol. Anything he could possibly desire, whenever he desired it, was at his fingertips with a simple nod in the right direction.

But then the pain hit in the middle of a particularly fun ménage trois, burning straight through into his bones. As he crumpled to the mattress and his bed-partners fled—in hindsight, probably thinking he was ODing—he felt his wings wriggling beneath his skin, ready to take flight.

With no other choice, he let them free, the only thing that lessened the pain. He let them lead him straight to a small cottage in a suburban-esque neighborhood, the door ajar. The burning lessened as he stepped across the threshold, taking in everything around him as his wings wrapped themselves around his shoulders.

To his left, there was only a mildly disrupted kitchen, full of the usual human clutter and disarray. Ahead of him, however, the living room had quite literally been torn apart, the stuffing of the couch littering the floor. The hair on his arms stood straight up at the sight of frames shattered, knickknacks thrown all over. There was a small hole in the wall to his right that made his eyes flicker between their normal brown and Devil red. A bullet hole.

"What have we here?" he murmured, starting towards the door that had been carefully closed. The ache increased between his shoulder blades increased, making his wings flex protectively against him.

Slowly, he pulled open the door, revealing a short staircase leading into what must have been a basement cellar. As he quietly crept, he ducked away from the ceiling, listening to the sound of heavy breathing and the stifled, nearly inaudible sobbing coming from the same direction. With his wings scraping against the rafters holding totes for extra storage, he made his way towards the noises, the itching on his back becoming more insistent.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" a man's scratchy voice rang out, waving a gun in the air as if to raise a flag to mark his location. "I promise I'll make it quick! Just have to…tie up some loose ends, you know!"

Turning his gaze to where he could sense his charge and her mother were cowering, trying to stay silent behind some boxes, Lucifer wasn't able to contain a snarl of fury. Going after a child and a woman to…tie up loose ends? Doing something so heinous that even the majority of the damned in his kingdom would balk at the idea?

He would punish him.

In an instant, he broke through the rafters, putting himself between the box sheltering them and the man who'd put infanticide on his to-do list. Wings flaring—dramatic appendages, as usual—he hissed, "I would suggest—"

Three shots rang out, the impact of them hitting him in the chest not enough to phase him.

Why were humans so enamored with their firearms? If you had the intention to kill someone, the least you could do was make it personal, say by knife. Why waste the time on ammunition and gunshots?

As the hits continued, though, they did grow annoying. "Would you stop that?" he demanded petulantly. "I mean, honestly, why would you continue doing something that's simply not working?" Throwing out his arms so they could fall at his sides, he added, "Do you not know how moronic that is?"

"B-b-but…I shot you," the human stammered, stepping back as he remained crouched, nearly doubling over in his fear rather than the limited space. "Y-you…you c-can't be upright!"

"And yet," Lucifer answered with a shrug. The feathers on his wings rippled just before he drew them back into his shoulder blades, fixing his cuffs. "Anyways, I suggest you leave and forget about the Decker home. It gives me an awful itch right where I can't reach when the…urchin is in danger and it would…behoove you to not upset me further." He smiled brightly at the retreating figure, hoping that perhaps the fear of his retribution would put a stop to whatever this human was intending.

A figurine—was that an angel?—flew at his head, shattering as it hit his brow bone. "Stay away from me!" the man shouted as he grabbed more pieces to toss. "I'm warning you!"

"A fight it is then," Lucifer answered, knowing the red was once more returning to his eyes as his Devil Face flickered menacingly to the surface. "And I must warn you that a part of me will very much enjoy this."

Starting towards the assailant, he heard the telltale sirens echoing in the distance, raising his lip in disgust. If he stayed for too much longer to punish the miscreant, he would be found by the human authorities who would no doubt not understand what he had to do. If he left, there was a chance that the human would escape, though, or that he might just decide to go after his prey to fix whatever problem she happened to be linked to.

"Which means I will have to take you with me," Lucifer concluded aloud, dodging the man's projectile to grab him by the collar of his shirt.

-.-.-.-.-.-

It was all over the news and there were so many people with cameras surrounding her all the time. It was a lot. Especially since her mother was almost constantly crying and she wasn't exactly sure why. She knew it had to do with the bad man and that her daddy wasn't coming home, but she didn't understand why.

Why did so many people care about what happened?

She had been so scared when her and her mommy had to hide in the dusty basement from the man with the gun, but her daddy's police brothers had shown up and made them safe. Besides, she had told them about the Angel that took the bad man away and wasn't that a good thing? Instead, now she had to walk around with all of her not-blood-but-real aunties and uncles no matter where she went.

Even now, when she was wearing a black dress that she hated and watching the ugliest vase in the world get buried in the ground, she was surrounded by people when she really just wanted to be alone. She wanted someone to tell her why her daddy wasn't going to be around anymore, why the bad man had tried shooting her mommy.

So, when she saw her chance to squeeze through the crowd of crying adults, she took it. There was a little bench not too far away; she wasn't really wandering off, since anyone of them would be able to see her.

With a sigh, she sat, cradling her chin in her hands as she slowly kicked her feet. She wished she could be in her jeans again, instead of the frilly black dress with slip-on shoes that she couldn't run in. "Why?" she asked quietly, looking out across the well-kept lawn. "Why isn't my daddy coming home? Why does everyone say I'm not safe?"

"Because you aren't, child."

Her head swung around to peek over her shoulder, catching sight of a tall, dark-haired man in a black suit that stood just behind the bench. He rounded it as she watched him, squinting at his face to try to figure out why he looked familiar. As he sat next to her, elbows to his knees while he pulled a cigarette out of his pack, she said, "Please don't; those smell really bad. My mommy used to smoke and it was gross."

With barely a glance in her direction, he put the cigarette back in its shiny case and slid it into his pocket. "It's simply a habit, Miss Decker, one I don't intend to give up."

"You should," she answered, enjoying his raised eyebrow and the confusion in his brown eyes as his head turned towards her. "Everybody says they're really bad for you." Looking both ways, she leaned close to him, delighting in the fact that he did the same. "They could even kill you," she whispered conspiratorially.

He gave a short laugh, one that she really liked because it was…real. Not like when other adults chuckled quickly then went back to whatever they were doing. He was really paying attention to her.

"You're odd, even for a child," he said with a lopsided grin. "Tell me: what do you really want?"

Without hesitation, she answered, "I want my daddy to be able to come home." It was the same thing she'd told her family and friends so many times since the day he left, but this man's reaction wasn't the same. Instead of giving her that sad look, he merely huffed once, looking back to the burial of the vase.

"Unfortunately, I can't help you with that," he replied easily. "And I assume your mother hasn't properly explained it, either, judging by your lack of waterworks."

She cocked her head at the question; what a weird thing to say. "She told me he can't come home but she won't tell me why. It really isn't fair, since everyone else knows but me." Looking down at her dress, she pulled at the itchy material, whining, "She even made me where this. I had to tell her no makeup." She rolled her eyes over to his, liking the genuine smile on his face.

"Well," he muttered, "you humans do love your funerals. The way you dress up for the dead is absolutely the most selfish thing in the world." Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "Your mother is simply using you to try to feel better about what happened."

Smiling sadly, she thought on that for a moment. She didn't understand, but obviously her mother did and it upset her. Guilt lanced through her as she looked up at her companion. "I just want—"

He lifted a hand, stopping her. "I can't give you back your father, urchin. There is simply no way. And now, I have something to take care of something, so go back to your people."

"But—"

There was a sudden whoosh and the man was gone. She tried to see where he went, but in that moment, everything went crazy. A gunshot echoed through the air, coming from a nearby hill. Immediately, the people gathered around the small hole in the ground dropped low, two of her daddy's brothers covering her mother.

"Chloe!" she heard them cry as three more raced towards her, the rest of the pack taking off in the direction of the sound. "Get down!"

Within seconds, she was surrounded, gathered up in arms and brought behind the limo they'd ridden there in. The men were asking her so many questions all at once that she became confused, her eyes welling with tears as they checked her for boo boos. They tried to comfort her, but all she could think about was the nice man in the suit who had talked to her like she was a big kid.

"Where's the…the man?" she asked, trying to peer around the trunk of the limo to look for him.

That stopped her dad's friends quickly. "Chloe, who are you talking about?" one asked, crouching low to be at her level. "What man?"

"He…he was sitting with me," she murmured, still trying to catch sight of him even as the men pulled her back. Another volley of gunshots rang out. "He…he's out there! He was…he was so nice!" Now she was openly crying, yanking against their arms. "The man in the suit is gonna get hurt!"

With one mighty pull, she got free, rushing around the side of the limo and racing towards that far away hill. She could make out the shapes of six men climbing the side, trying to keep their weapons level while they stumbled up the steep slope. But it was the two men on top that she kept her eyes on; one of them was him.

But there were two big and white…somethings coming out of his back, stretching across the blue of the sky threateningly. She watched, horrified, as he jerked slightly with every shot that rang out but never stopped moving towards the masked man on the hill. The nice man is going to go away like Daddy.

He lunged just as the police officers made it to the top and disappeared.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Lucifer stood over the small human as she mumbled incoherently in her sleep, seemingly none the worse for wear. It was strange; he'd had fun talking with the child that afternoon, surprised at the intelligence she'd displayed. Or perhaps it was normal for children and he really needed to rethink some of the scripts in Hell.

He watched her, trying to discern what was so special about this one human that he didn't even bother greeting his older brother when he sensed his presence.

"Lucifer," Amenadiel murmured from behind him, looking over his shoulder at the tiny person. "You're doing a better job at this than I thought you would, considering you've been ignoring her for the first five years of her life."

The fallen Angel just shrugged. "If she doesn't need me, why would I waste my time? It isn't as if I won't know when she needs me with the bloody Mark." He glanced over at his brother. "Besides, the deal never said I had to watch her every movement."

Bristling, the older of the two said, "This is important. She is important. Whatever Father plans—"

"Don't worry, brother," Lucifer answered, his tone lackluster and bored. "I am not one to go back on my deals. So long as the Mark burns, I will keep her safe."

Amenadiel started to say something, but in a blink, Lucifer was gone, leaving nothing but a single white feather behind.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Thank you for reading! I have most of this story already planned (85%, I'd say), so I should be posting a preview of Chapter One on Friday.