Title: Slow Like Honey 
Author: scy
Feedback: scynneh@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine. 
Fandom: Lucifer
Pairing: Lucifer/Michael 
Spoilers: Volume 2: Children and Monsters, and Volume 3: A Dalliance with the Damned, but only up to Issue # 19, so this is set pre- Michael delivering Yahweh's ultimatum and Lucifer's subsequent response. 
Rating: PG-15
Summary: Michael considers the past as it relates to the present and acts.
Author's Notes: A really long time ago Victoria implored fandom to write this pairing. Title is from the song by Fiona Apple, off 'Tidal.' For musesfool, actually. 
March - May 2006

After his release from the Sandalphon's pocket world Michael returned to the Bright Kingdom. The Host had sent word that he was approaching, and the gates were wide open. It was sublime to move through the entrance and take his place at his Father's side, yet there was nowhere that he could find to settle a moment and think. 

For a retuning hero, the welcome received in the Silver City overwhelmed all mortal description. For a being who had been imprisoned longer than he wanted the ability to recall, such a reception bordered on uncomfortably exuberant. Of course there were standards to be upheld, rites that had timeless significance, but all of it seemed rather forced to Michael's eyes. 

It would have been excusable for him to express a small measure of discomfiture; his circumstances had been appalling enough that the lapse of a moment might be overlooked. He didn't take that opening though; the Host would let such a thing pass, but it would not go unnoticed and he felt the loss of any standing would weaken their spirit even further, given the losses they'd recently suffered. Therefore he kept his confusion private and allowed the Host to act as they saw fit. 

He wasn't expected to step in to help immediately, rather he was treated like one who had survived a great battle, and so not everyone brought matters to his attention, almost as though they sought to shield him from inconsequential details. Michel watched words being swallowed and thoughts dissipating like fog in the rising sun. He kept private the insights he gleaned, but did not hesitate to gather all he could to understand the new order and its reach. There would be a time when his actions would speak for him and whatever his opinion, the commitment to his responsibilities would not waver. 

Among the situations that remained unsettled, was as always, Lucifer. Apparently the adversarial understanding that had been in place during Lucifer's stint as the keeper of damned souls had been fractured by the Morningstar's decision to withdraw to Earth. While the event had happened some years past, it was still cited as the first warning of darker machinations that were still unknown. 

Michael knew that to say that Host feared Lucifer was to incur a generous offense, and did not encompass the scope of their feelings. The Adversary had been for eons, almost predictable  in his malice. Then, with the return of the Dream King, the status quo had cased being what it'd been, and order was rocked before settling uneasily into the shape of the present.

As his position was restored, every angel had to speak with him, and nearly everything they had to say was the same: Lucifer had outwitted the Host and would face Amenadiel on the field of Effrul to settle the score built up in eons of conflict. Somehow that ground too belonged to Heaven, and though he did not find that to be the surprise some would have guessed, but the details were no less bewildering upon closer examination. 

Angels ruled in Hell, and instead of being Fallen, as Lucifer had been, these were two in the Lord's favor. Even his position in their Father's design, did not give Michael claim to knowing even a fraction of His greater purpose. It was not his own part in what would come to be that concerned him, but those under his charge, and one who claimed independence. In spite of everything that Lucifer had done in the course of trying to proving himself, Michael still had a care for his well-being. 

At those times when he allowed thoughts of his brother's exploits to overtake him, Michael might admit that he found Lucifer's persistent ambition to be striking. Lucifer had always asked the most difficult questions and pressed to know more than anyone else, even when there was no reason to doubt the Word. To Michael, it was as though he was seeking a justification for rebellion. Lucifer never lacked for inspiration and was able to incite discontent in others when they might have been able to seek a more peaceful resolution to their problems. And judging from the reactions of those who had been witness to his most recent exploits, that much at least hadn't changed; he expected Lucifer to have continued on the path that had sent him against the heavenly mandates that had given them direction for so long. It wouldn't matter that he'd been the ruler of Hell, that role seemed to have grown stale, and once Lucifer had made his mind up and was set in his plotting, there was little to be done but be watchful and seek openings to intervene, and in the meantime, clear the way of innocents. 

His daughter was one such being; he knew nothing of her life in her own words and from her reaction to his warnings, did not expect that she would greet ever him with joyful exclamations. Somehow though, Lucifer had endeared himself to the girl; whether by trickery or the complicated truths he wove so well that habitually eased the suspicions of those he was preparing for his use. At the moment there was nothing Michael could do to prevent Elaine Belloc from pursuing a friendship with the Morningstar, but Michael would see to it that it was understood that he would not stand harm to come to her. That much he could do for her, even if she would never know. or didn't care to have him nearby.

It was within Michael's power to walk among mortals and learn how they lived, but he chose not to. He had been given a place in the Silver City and he was not one to look overlong at what made humanity more appealing to lesser deities and demons. When he did have business among humanity, he didn’t cloud their vision or alter his appearance to pass as something he was not, he walked on another plane, beyond them. From there he could watch them and never be pressed to interfere when it would skew events in ways that were not acceptable, no matter how much he felt it would benefit the greater good, especially where the Morningstar's influence was felt.

Everyone in Los Angeles with the vision to see past the ordinary and then absorb some of the more uncommon scenery knew about Lux. The more intelligent of that number avoided the place; those who were flushed with arrogance or greed let themselves be drawn into its orbit. The luckiest were singed, but limped away. Others would not be put off and so burned up under a spotlight that caught on a figure that was beyond what they had expected. Michael observed the mortals crowding around the perimeter of the immense structure; some dared to go close enough to lay their palms on the walls, others knelt entranced by the magnetism of the doorway housed within.  

His awareness of his surroundings was already heightened by the adjustments his senses made for the change in his environment, and even without raising his gaze to the symbol etched into the face of the structure, Michael knew that the place belonged to his brother. There was a crackle in the air as he stepped onto the threshold and he surmised that even had Lucifer  been absent, he would know who was at his door. 

There were no guards blocking the entrance, but he  could sense the demonic presence permeating the air, but refused to condescend to look to either side. Everyone knew their place, and so long as she stayed mindful of that, matters wouldn't escalate into a scene where violence was the only reaction. 

The sound of his footsteps rang out like gongs, but he knew that Lucifer wouldn't take that for an announcement of arrival. Raising his wings just above his head, Michael snapped them once sharply. the swish of feathers charged the air with a current he could feel, and that was what would cue his brother to his intentions. 

As he passed through it, Michael felt the weight of the main entryway reminiscent of an ancient temple. Although the ceilings curved upward towards Heaven, Michael knew that nothing like worship had been present in its construction. 

The Morningstar was in his private chambers; a set of rooms that were decorated according to his taste and comfort, his demon waiting on him. Both of them looked up when Michael paused in the doorway, and of the two, Lucifer was unsurprised by his presence. 

Not answering, Lucifer resumed toweling his hair. Anyone else would have sought to scour dirt off their body by less physical means, but the fact that Lucifer preferred to indulge in such a luxury was no shock to Michael. Likewise, the silk sleeping pants he wore, when he did not need to replenish himself in such a human fashion, was not a goad to insult the simplicity that the Host preferred, but merely an indication that Lucifer still enjoyed fine things and was aware of his effect on others. That he did not turn his back nor leave the room could be a statement or a means of indulging an impulse Michael would not readily own up to.  

The last time they had touched had been when Lucifer had freed him from Sandalphon. Lucifer had been gentle with him, and Michael remembered that he’d smelled incense and dried roses, the scent just as potent as when they’d been their Father’s favorites. The smell was almost overwhelming within a few feet of Lucifer, and Michael had to remind himself not to inhale too obviously.

In his brother’s company; with the two of them at least attempting to be civil, it was almost familiar. He let himself sink into the comfortable atmosphere and watched Lucifer move around the room; noting how carefully he kept a distance between them. It was almost as though Lucifer was concerned for his well being, though both knew that the interlude in the void had been sufficient to effect his recovery. More than likely, Lucifer knew how Michael had agonized over his decision to approach him and was not interested in being held responsible, but Lucifer's motives were never easily discerned, and therefore Michael had to act on the most reasonable assumption. 

Michael waited until Lucifer had settled in a chair before approaching him. For all of the blank indifference he showed, they might have been strangers, but Michael saw his pupils dilate when he reached out to touch the arm of Lucifer's chair. Unmoving, the Morningstar watched him consider whether he should dare to go further, 

There were times when it seemed all the Morningstar did was talk around him. Michael got close to understanding a fraction of what was really being said and then it felt as though he was deliberately spun around to glimpse something else. At the moment, humor deflected his intent to impart advice or to implore Lucifer to reconsider the duel.

"You've never overlooked an opportunity to point in another direction."

Instead of responding, Lucifer held Michael's eyes overlong for politeness. Their truce could be broken with words or one of them would choose to look away.

It had been his lot to try and reason with the Morningstar before, but just as there was no containing the spread of a flame that had inexhaustible tinder, Lucifer would not allow anyone to stand in his way.

"I only think of the ramifications this contest will have."

"For Heaven, or those you believe dependent on my goodwill?"

More of that insight which was ever unwelcome. 

"I'm not interested in wrenching answers out of you, Michael. State your business and clear your conscience of at least this burden."  

"Elaine Belloc, what hold do you have on her?"

"Are you asking what my intentions are toward the girl?"

"Yes." 

"Whatever debt has been incurred, it is between the parties involved." If Lucifer had added that he didn't mean Elaine any harm, then the assurance would have niggled at Michael later on. Promises were something that Lucifer took seriously, and his word would be kept, but still, they weren't easy to trust. Michael knew that Lucifer didn't expect to be given the benefit of the doubt, and Michael wouldn't say as much, but he had asked the question, and Lucifer could divine what he hadn't been able to ask. 

He knew nothing of Amenadiel's strategy for victory, but was certain that there was a plan in motion to defeat the Morningstar by whatever means virtue and devotion would allow an angel to act. Concern was useless and would likely be mocked as misplaced and unnecessary, but he allowed himself to admit his worry privately. 

Unsure how to express his feelings without causing offense that would give necessitate a precipitous departure, Michael moved closer, crouching, not kneeling by Lucifer's chair and reaching beyond the boundary of its lines to touch bare skin. 

Lucifer stilled, but didn't shake Michael off as he brought one hand up to trace the angle of his brother's chin. When Lucifer’s eyelids lowered slightly, Michael felt the tension flow out of his shoulders. His fingers moved to Lucifer’s hair and anchored at his nape. It wasn't control he was seeking, nor an acknowledgement of his power, all of that would be counterproductive. What he wanted went further than that, and stemmed from his need to be recognized. Michael knew better  than to assume Lucifer was being passive and giving way under his touch; the Morningstar bided his time, but did not yield. He flattered himself in the fact that only for perhaps two beings would Lucifer permit such liberties, but even then, he did so with full awareness of what was occurring.

The space they occupied had been constructed with wide spaces between columns and a grandeur that didn't protect, but instead permeated the very air so that one could never forget whose house they had entered. There lacked an imperative to show worship, but Lux had its own unique atmosphere, and even Michael had to, in the spirit of keeping the piece, acknowledge such influence. Each time he and his brother met, Michael came away from the encounter newly aware of some seemingly infinitesimal divergence in their beliefs that only obscure a greater rift. In this instance, he hoped that by not seeking untried ground, he would be able to pursue the encounter without fear of sudden reprisals. 

Had they not been destined, by their choices to oppose one another so strongly, Michael dared to surmise they could have done much more together, but there was nothing to be done about the decisions they'd made thousands of years ago. In his experience, he had found that second-guessing himself was a frustrating pastime, and so he only reflected when he thought it might have bearing on the future. In this case, he deliberately put himself within inches of his brother, hoping that he could count on the result, based on what had been successful in previous encounters. 

To arouse passion in the Silver City was tantamount to blasphemy, and so even thoughts which lingered on beauty skirted a line that Michael was unable to justify crossing, no matter the intensity of the emotion. Whenever he'd found himself watching Lucifer with more than exasperation, he sent himself on Earthly errands, and if Lucifer happened to anticipate his thoughts, there was nothing he could do to prevent what inevitably followed. At present he had taken the initiative to seek out the presence of one who had once been able to settle his thoughts, even though he risked a confrontation instead of a pleasurable interlude. 

Lucifer was waiting, perhaps out of courtesy adopted for the duration of his tolerance, and so Michael inhaled deeply, welcoming the intoxication of that familiar scent and knowing that this moment had been brought about by a decision he'd made independent of counsel or celestial directives. Whatever Lucifer's understanding, he of everyone, had to be able to comprehend the aim of Michael's actions. Should he be obliged to elucidate, though, greater complications would arise that he wasn't ready to manage.

"If you're looking for rationalization, your time would be better spent in action," Lucifer commented.

By allowing himself this indulgence, Michael knew that he was leaving himself vulnerable to future machinations from Lucifer. He hoped that his intent was clear so that he would not suffer more than his own regret later. 

In approaching Lucifer, he consciously kept himself at the Morningstar's level so that he wasn't looming over him. The fewer opportunities there were of being accused of exercising his control issues, the better the chances there could be something between them,

Although he was privy to the divinity of their Father's hand, it was still amazing that for all they had experienced, their appearances remained unchanged. Looking at Lucifer, one would not know he railed against accepting what he found unpalatable or how quickly he could turn from civility to bare hostility. Even with the eons that he had spent in the sole company of Sandalphon, who had no concern for the well-being of the resource he had appropriated in order to build his army, Michael hadn't forgotten the fact that his brother's temper could only be counted on to be unpredictable and his intent was more perilous than the ravings of an embittered oracle. What time had done to him wasn't known firsthand, and while he could try to reverse their positions by any stretch of magic or fantasy to envision what it had been like for Lucifer, such was beyond him. 

In the beginning, he could not have imagined solitude. Even when he was entrusted with the most difficult tasks which he shouldered without help, he had the knowledge that he belonged. His place was looked to and was one that was loved even though the distance might seem great. For the brightest among them to have been banished and to know that he had taken so much with them had been the precursor to a shift in the balance that was anything but incidental, and now Lux drew everyone, even those who couldn’t admit they needed anything.

While he considered these instances of seemingly irreconcilable action and reaction, Michael had been moving to counter Lucifer's remark. He did not try to hold Lucifer in place, that would undoubtedly provoke a excessive response, but he did make clear his wish for stillness. 

When Lucifer chose to let the encounter take a course of Michael's choosing, he allowed himself to push guilt aside, and savored the slow unfurling of a hope that he had found what he had sought. 

-end