As You Wish

Absolved

"I can't believe it, Sebastian."

Another, higher, prettier voice than that of your husband replied. "What kind of name is that, Azazel?"

"Shut up, loser."

"Loser?" Your husband, Sebastian, glowered, quietly jealous as the angel standing before you flipped his long, blonde hair. Damn peacock. "Come on, brother, you're hardly young enough to use such frivolities. You'll have to do better than that if you want to insult me, seeing as you're the one who so graciously brought me back here." Your eyes widened. "You did save me, Azazel. Don't undersell yourself to your sweetheart. It's not hubristic if you've earned it."

"Wait, it was you?" Your voice was higher still. "You're the lucky bitch..." you paused, slightly adjusting your choice of words. You'd expected it to be well, not a man, but you were damn glad it was. More so, you were enthralled. It was him. You were jealous, but this was the obvious second best route other than your direct involvement. The silver medal, not a silver medal. "Or bastard who brought out the light in-" The tall blonde androgynous figure before you extended his hand.

"Lucifer. Pleasure to meet you, Princess." You narrowed your eyes. "Though, I believe you're the bastard, not our friend here?"

"That's it, then? You're friends?" You raised an eyebrow, not daring to let go of his hand. "You and my sweetheart didn't go any further?"

"Ew, no." He looked beside you, laughing, then clearing his throat. "No offence, but you're not my type."

"Is anyone?" Sebastian huffed.

The Angel of Light (it was decidedly difficult to say his name.) laughed. It was beautiful. Of course it was. "No. I'm pretty much too good for everybody else."

"Wow." You couldn't help but butt in, sarcastic as always.

"Tell me something, Azazel." He turned to you, grinning. It was like gazing into a supernova. Damn. So. Pretty. You looked at the love of your life, vowing he was still the most beautiful angel of all. Subjectively. You never thought anyone could be better looking than Sebastian, but dayummmmmmmnnn this guy was fine. Too bad he hated everyone. Well, you couldn't hate that about him. Having high standards was something you commended, in anyone. It meant they had class, self-respect. Well, he had it, his respect, then lost it for a billion billion years, but here he was again, proud to be home, radiant as the sun. "Do you want me to tell her, or do you want to be the one to-"

You cut off the supremely perfect being in front of you. "Tell me what, exactly?" Lucifer grinned. You half trembled, half shuddered. Yeah. Saying his name was weird.

You noticed he hadn't let go of your hand, and you stepped, ludicrously, towards him, Sebastian clearly holding in the urge to interrupt what was an outlandish display of superiority. Damn. They were like birds. If they had semi-racist stereotypes for you, you'd come back at them with your own. You bit your lip, freezing as he actually kissed your hand. Your wedding ring felt hot. "That I've wanted to meet you again for so long, my dear." You blinked.

"What?"

"Didn't he ever tell you?" He pulled back, letting you go. You rubbed your wrist. "About that night, in Whitechapel, I believe it was, about 1890 or so, I found you. He had big plans for you, and as I always was one step ahead of you all, I had to be sure you were up for it."

"You...you...you...you..you.." you stuttered for about three minutes before shouting, spooking a few other nearby residents; most of the others who'd been here as long as you had gave him ample space. "You were the one I met?!?!??!?"