It was the middle of the day when she turned around suddenly and said, "You're moping. Aw, isn't that cute." She tilted her face so that her eyes met his, and smiled, the smile uniquely her, mischievous and challenging, tinged with just a touch of malice. "Shut up." He told her. They were walking along a crowded street in the shopping district, their bodies close, their hands entwined, like any other couple around them. Doing nothing that could be construed as special- taking in the sights, shopping, enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to each other- but that in itself was special to them. In all their millennia of courtship, they had never done anything as mundane and as blithely enjoyable before. "But you are, aren't you?" She said, her smile suddenly winsome and innocent. She slid her hand from his without breaking contact with his skin, and brought her other over his neck to enfold him in a loose embrace, playing with the single tail of hair that fell in a straight waterfall down his back. Despite himself, Lucifer shivered in delicious agony, the touch of her fingers an exquisite torture of anticipation. But his voice was teasingly light as he spoke. "Has anyone ever told you that you cling like your brother?" "Oh, I wouldn't say that," She replied, continuing her minstrations. "Rociel only clings when he's feeling stressed, while I-" She flicked a strand of hair into his face, "only cling when I'm feeling very relaxed." "I can think of one similarity, "He told her, taking her hand in his and laying a caress of featherlight kisses down the line of her palm. "Both of you cling when you want something." "Quite true." Alexiel said. It was her turn to shiver, frissons of electric desire dancing down her spine, the feel of Lucifer's lips a liquid burning against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. "You, though, never cling." "It's undignified." He told her, in between his tongue painting slow circles of fire on her skin, as if the two of them were the only people left in the world. Alexiel's smile widened. She leaned forward and pulled him into a close embrace, her hair covering them like the brush of silken sheets. "But, you know," She whispered, in his ear, "It does make people wonder if you have issues with being touched- paternal issues, for example." He stiffened, immediately, and tried to pull away from her, but she held him to her, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Oh no you don't," She breathed, tracing the lines of his face with one hand. "You have to face this sooner or later."