Lucifer stood in the middle of Paradise City's largest home and garden center, surrounded by a bewildering array of household items. He watched with a mixture of amusement and concern as Ezra examined a toaster with the intensity usually reserved for disarming bombs.
"You know," he said, leaning against their shopping cart, "when you said we needed to go shopping, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of, I don't know, magical artifacts or demon-slaying weapons."
Ezra looked up from the toaster, her brow furrowed. "Living essentials are just as important as weaponry, Luu. My new apartment is... lacking in basic amenities."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "Lacking? What, did the Crimson Oath set you up in some kind of monastic cell?"
"Not exactly," Ezra admitted, placing the toaster in the cart. "It's just... I've never really had to furnish a living space from scratch, before. The Organization usually handles those details."
As they moved through the aisles, Lucifer found himself increasingly fascinated by Ezra's approach to shopping. She examined each item with the same meticulous attention she applied to battle strategies, weighing pros and cons with an almost comical seriousness.
"Okay, what about this?" Lucifer asked, holding up a bright pink flamingo-shaped lamp. "Really ties the room together, don't you think?"
Ezra's deadpan stare could have frozen hell itself. "I'm aiming for functional, not... whatever that is."
"Aw, come on," Lucifer grinned. "Live a little. Your apartment doesn't have to look like a CIA safehouse, you know."
Ezra's head throbbed as she stared at the wall of throw pillows before her. Who knew there could be so many shades of beige? She turned to share this profound observation with Lucifer, only to find him gleefully fondling a pillow shaped like a giant schlong, complete with disturbingly realistic veins.
"Absolutely not," she growled, tits undulating. She snatched the shaft monstrosity from his hands and shoved it back on the shelf. "We're here for normal stuff, remember? Things that won't make my apartment look like a portal to the ninth circle of Hell."
Lucifer's lower lip jutted out in a pout that would make a toddler proud. "But darling, your decor is so... beige." He said the word like it physically pained him. "Don't you want something with a little more pizzazz?"
Ezra pinched the bridge of her nose, counting backwards from ten. "Luu, I swear to your Dad, if you don't behave, I'm leaving you here and buying everything from the clearance bin at Target."
As if summoned by the mention of bargain-basement home goods, a chipper sales associate materialized at their side. "Can I help you find anything?" she chirped, her smile so wide it looked like it might crack her face.
Before Ezra could politely decline, Lucifer pounced. "Yes! We're looking for something to really make the place pop. Perhaps some taxidermied animals? Or a nice, gently used iron maiden?"
The sales associate's smile faltered for a moment before snapping back into place. "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't carry those items. Perhaps I could interest you in our newest line of scented candles?"
'Oh that screams ritual.' Lucifer thought.
As she led them towards a display that smelled like a flower shop and a candy store had a drunken one-night stand, Ezra caught sight of their reflection in a nearby mirror.
She looked like she'd been dragged backwards through a hedge, while Lucifer practically glowed with demonic glee. What a pair they made – the frazzled human and Satan's overgrown man-child.
*Why did I agree to this?* Ezra thought for the millionth time. But deep down, past the exasperation and the headache pounding behind her eyes, she had to admit, life with Lucifer was many things, but it was never, ever boring.
Their attention was drawn to a massive flat-screen TV, its screen flickering with explosive action scenes. Lucifer's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Oh, we simply must get this! Think of all the hard-core po-"
"Finish that sentence and I'll exorcise you myself," Ezra hissed, acutely aware of the scandalized looks from a group of blue-haired grandmas browsing nearby.
As they moved on to the kitchen section, Ezra's spirits lifted. Surely there was nothing Lucifer could corrupt here?
Her hopes were dashed as he immediately gravitated towards a set of knives with handles shaped like various body parts. She didn't even want to know what that erect-looking one was supposed to be.
"No," she said flatly, steering him away from the anatomically correct cutlery. "I draw the line at dinnerware that'll get me arrested if I try to take it on a plane."
Lucifer sighed dramatically. "You're no fun. How am I supposed to spice up your dreary mortal existence if you won't let me add a little flair?"
Ezra's retort was cut short by the sight of a simple, elegant coffee maker. "Now that," she said, "is exactly what I need."
Lucifer eyed the machine skeptically. "But it doesn't even have wifi. Or a built-in sacrifice altar."
"It makes coffee, Luu. That's literally its only job."
They continued bickering over the merits of smart appliances versus "boring" traditional ones. This shopping trip was a disaster, but it was their disaster. And really, wasn't that what home was all about?
"Fine," she sighed, already regretting her words. "You can pick one weird thing for the apartment. But I get veto power, and it can't be anything that'll get me evicted or committed to a psych ward."
Lucifer's face lit up with unholy glee. "Deal! Now, about those lava lamps filled with what looks suspiciously like real blood..."
Ezra groaned, chesticles heaving monumentally. It was going to be a long day, but at least it wouldn't be a boring one.
"So," Lucifer said as they examined a display of bedding, "not to pry or anything, but... how exactly are you affording all this? I mean, I'm guessing 'Supernatural Guardian' doesn't come with a great salary and benefits package."
Ezra's cheeks colored slightly. "The Organization provides a... substantial expense account for operatives in the field. Especially for high-priority assignments."
Lucifer whistled low. "High-priority, huh? Should I be flattered or terrified?"
"Both, probably," Ezra said, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.
They made their way to the checkout, their cart piled high with the basics of modern living.
"You know," Lucifer said as they loaded bags into a taxi, after checking out. "if you need help setting all this up, I could... I mean, I'm no interior decorator, but I can probably manage to assemble a lamp without causing an interdimensional incident."
Ezra looked at him, surprise flickering across her face before her usual mask of calm settled back into place. "I... that would be helpful, actually. Thank you."
The ride back to their apartment building was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional comment about their purchases or speculation about what new pop quizzes might be waiting for them at school tomorrow.
They lugged bags up the stairs upon reaching the apartment. Apparently the elevator was out of order.
They reached Ezra's door, both slightly out of breath from the climb. "Well," Lucifer said, setting down the bags he was carrying, "home sweet home, I guess."
Ezra nodded, fumbling with her keys. As she opened the door, Lucifer caught a glimpse of the apartment beyond - sparse and utilitarian, but with potential. It was a blank canvas, waiting to be filled with the details of a life.
"Do you want to come in?" Ezra asked, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "We could start setting things up, maybe order some food..."
Lucifer's dirty eyeballs quickly hovered over her thick globes of sensitive flesh.
"Yeah," he said, smiling. "I'd like that."
'Let's turn this cell into a strip club!' He thought with a devilish grin.
***