Scene: A library; mahogany and teak, tall bookshelves from wall to wall. Lucifer sits at a table, reading; Alexiel leans on a bookshelf watching him. Both are dressed in more or less modern clothes, Lucifer in a simple shirt open at the neck, and jeans, Alexiel in a dress both loose and comfortable, while covering as little as possible. The sun shines in dimly from a high window, so that it seems to anyone watching that the both of them share a warm golden aura. Lucifer reads for a while, then puts down his book and looks at Alexiel. "This amuses you." "You're reading," Alexiel says, the light settling in golden outline on the angles of her face, so that she looks neither woman nor child, but like a midsummer fairy. And she smiles. "Big, tall, mysterious man. Lord of Hell. Bad-ass sword. Heap big pile of dead, become the source of evil in all the world, heap bigger pile of dead, help to kill God, then retire to some dinky old library in the middle of nowhere and read.. oh, I don't know, penny romance novels." "Satanic penny romance novels." "Aren't they all? Narcissist." "Narcissus?" He marks the book with a feather, then closes it. It's a fairly thick book; hardcover, bound the old way, all leather and gold lettering on the spine, intricately and delicately inked words within. There are several on the table in front of him, and he reaches for another one. "He died for want of a dream." "Mooning himself, I know. Takes the romance out of the entire thing, doesn't it?" She moves forward and leans above him, her arms loosely encircling him, her hair falling like a curtain to obscure his vision. "Don't slouch." "Mm," He says, bringing a lock of hair to his lips, then letting the gossamer strands thread through his fingers, before he opens the new book, running a finger down the table of contents.