The Girl In The Handcuffs

The Reason Why

Lucifer's hands were steady as he worked the needle through your skin. You flinched now and then but remained still. He waited patiently for you to begin. It took a second to collect your wandering thoughts.

"I'm... a fixer of sorts..."

Lucifer paused a moment to give you a questioning yet intrigued look.

"A fixer?"

You nodded, watching him wipe away some blood from your wound.

"Well not exactly a fixer but it's probably the best way to describe what I do. You see I beat people. For money."

Lucifer snorted looking at you with increasing amusement.

"But only terrible people, like Sophia's husband, the scum of the earth, abusive assholes, I also run a very lucrative repo business on the side." You added with a wink.

You watched the devil stare at you with a twinkle in his eye. He laughed a little as he finished his task and cleaned you up as best he could.

"That's your side business? Would that not be your main source of income?"

You shook your head, fighting back a yawn at how sluggish and tired you felt.

"Officially, for legal purposes, yes."

You hadn’t realized your eyes closed until you felt a hand on your leg. You smiled tiredly at his worried expression and sat up to the best of your ability.

"And what if they can not pay?"

"Then I help anyway, pro bono, I'm not going to leave someone in such an awful situation like that." You said firmly.

You caught the ghost of a smile on his lips as he stood up.

"I'll be right back love."

You watched him walk towards your kitchen, before settling back onto your couch. You hummed a little to yourself as you waited for him to return.

"And I suppose you were dealing with one of these assholes tonight?"

Lucifer asked as he walked back into the room, handing you a drink and a cookie. You laughed a little but accepted the treat anyway.

"Yes."

His eyes trailed down to your wound, the silent question hanging in the air.

"Sometimes they have a knife, sometimes a gun, it's not an easy job, but it's not right to turn away people who need the help, people who deserve not to be beaten and bruised every day."

You stared ahead, a far off look in your eyes and Lucifer watched you closely, studying you.

"It seems like a very dangerous job, you must have a reason for doing it."

You blinked, the sound of his voice pulling you from your thoughts. The smile you gave him lacked its usual charm, it wasn’t as mischievous, wasn’t full of trouble. It wasn’t the smile that had first drawn him in, it was sadder, almost burdened.

"A story for another time." You murmured.

He wanted to press the matter, ask a few more questions, but he could see how tired you were, how worn you'd become. How eager you were to move away from that particular line of questioning.