Chapter Text
Lucifer sat on her couch in that familiar, comforting office. After a moment he lifted his head from his hands.
“I can’t believe it’s over, doctor,” he whispered.
“I know, Lucifer,” Linda responded as she got up and walked to her desk.
Lucifer watched her silently as she pulled a bottle of scotch and two glasses out from a desk drawer.
“Doctor …”
“Lucifer, I’ve helped you through a lot of stuff I’ve felt personally invested in, a part of even, but this,” she took a drink to buy time to collect her thoughts. “I’ve found the limit of my objective reasoning ability.” She walked over to Lucifer and sat the extra glass down in front of him before plopping on the couch beside him. She slumped down and stared into her glass. “This sucks,” she observed with a defeated tone.
“Yes, yes it does.” Lucifer put a comforting arm around her and pulled her against him. “Don’t worry doctor, you’ll think of something,” he added with a smirk.
After allowing herself the moment, Linda took a deep breath, sat up, and set her glass on the table. She turned so she was facing Lucifer. “Moments like these can be defeating. Sometimes there isn’t a solution, and the best we can do is focus on what we do have control over.”
“That’s it!” Lucifer sat bolt up. “Oh doctor, you’ve done it again.” He got up and started towards the door.
“Lucifer, where are you going?” Linda asked, equal parts confused and intrigued.
“To seize control again, like you said. I’m the devil. I’m not going out without a fight. And a fabulous fight it will be. We need a hashtag, and a press tour, and,” as if he forgot he was having a conversation, he exited the room continuing to ramble off ideas.
“That’s not what I meant,” Linda said to herself, “but it’s actually not a bad idea.” She clinked her glass against Lucifer’s abandoned drink, “cheers old friend. To you saving the day once again.”