#1: Men, Angels, and Introductions

"Go fuck yourself."

And she sloshed her fifteen dollar cocktail in his face. She set the glass down gingerly on the bar, apologized sweetly to the handsome bartender, and stood up to leave.

Meanwhile, the man, who only moments before had been whispering extravagant obscenities into her ear, stared in shock as he dripped cranberry juice and vodka from his chin. Only, when she was snuggling her purse strap up over her shoulder as she walked away, did he react.

"Indigo! Indigo get back here!"

Indigo walked straight out the door.

He caught up with her on the sidewalk, and stood to block her path.

"Look Steve..." she said, crossing her arms and bending one knee to tap the toe of her patent leather pumps.

"Edgar!"

"Whatever. I'm not interested. Not interested in you, your trite sexual fantasies, or the appalling idea of spending a night in bed with you. I've tried to get along because we're both regulars, but you are incapable of recognizing a woman's polite disinterest. I'm done being polite. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going home."

She moved to walk around him, but he forcefully grabbed her arm, just above the elbow.

"Let go." She said it in a low, heavy voice.

Indigo wasn't a big girl. Not short, not tall, but average. What wasn't average was her curvy figure and her pretty face. Long wavy red hair, green eyes, and a few freckles which she hated, but which every one of her exes got nostalgic about. She was athletic and fairly strong, but she didn't really want to find out how she compared to Steve, er, Edgar.

Edgar's grip tightened on her arm.

"That's no way to treat a lady."

Edgar and Indigo turned to see a man standing on the curb. He wore a dark, three-piece, pinstripe suit and a fedora, tipped rakishly so that it shadowed most of his face.
Edgar released Indigo, who began to gently massage her arm with her right hand. Edgar approached the other man.

"I'm sorry, but you're interrupting," began Edgar,"perhaps you had better give us some privacy."

"Privacy? You'd certainly like that wouldn't you," the stranger grinned wickedly, his white teeth visible even in the shadows. "Dirty mind," he tapped his own temple with his index finger and winked at Edgar. "No, I think perhaps it would be best if you excused yourself, and I shall see that Indigo gets home safely."

Indigo's eyes narrowed. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, she thought. Then confusion. He knows my name... how?

"Forgive me for not introducing myself," said the stranger, approaching Indigo with a spark in his eye. "My name is Lucifer." He extended is right hand.

Indigo stopped massaging her arm and hesitated, then reached out to shake Lucifer's hand. His hand was warm, hot almost.

Lucifer smiled. "Charmed," he said, and then he raised her had to his face, and leisurely kissed the back of her hand. If his hand was warm, his mouth was burning.

Edgar, who was turning a little red himself and who, honestly, was feeling a little left out, broke the moment, "I believe I asked you to leave!"

Lucifer, without releasing Indigo's hand or looking away from her face replied "No, I believe it was I who asked you to leave." And with that Edgar vanished.

Indigo's mouth fell open as she stared at the spot on which Edgar was no longer standing. She blinked rapidly for a few moments. Momentarily she became aware of Lucifer again, and she turned her head to face him.

His eyes never left her. They were black, his eyes. His cheek bones were prominent and his mouth was full. Chestnut hair, tall. He was beautiful.

Indigo's teeth clicked together and she violently snapped her hand away. "Who and what are you?" she demanded as she began taking slow, cautious steps backwards.

Lucifer seemed unconcerned. "I already told you."

"You expect me to believe that you are actually the Devil himself, the Prince of Darkness, the Great Deceiver?" She continued slowly backing away. "Where's Edgar?"

"Oh him? He's back in the bar, with a bit of a headache and some slight memory loss."
"Really." Skepticism dripped copiously from her voice, like the vodka from Edgar's chin earlier.

"Yes. Go check. I'll be waiting."

She took another few steps backward, then turned and walked into the bar. Back inside, Edgar was seated on a bar stool, mopping up his shirt with paper napkins.

"Back already? One drink wasn't enough?" He continued blotting his shirt. "Do you know if Cranberry juice stains?"

"What just happened outside?" Indigo demanded.

"I don't know. What just happened outside?" He said it like he was humoring a four-year-old.

"Don't play games with me Edgar, you were there!"

"Hey, you got my name right for once!" He actually seemed pleased.

She rolled her eyes and then set her fists on her hips. "Are you telling me you don't remember following me outside and arguing and getting interrupted by a man in a three-piece suit who called himself Lucifer?"

Simply put, Edgar thought she was "a complete raving lunatic" and that she should "go the fuck away!"

Indigo sighed in frustration, then she looked at the bartender "Jay, could you let me out the back?"

He was drying a pint glass with a clean white rag. "Sure, no problem." He led her out back through the kitchen. Just before he closed the door he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Be safe okay?"

"Will do," she said.

He closed the door and she heard the bolt slide into place. Time to get home. She took three steps before she heard Lucifer's voice.

"Do you believe me now?" He walked towards her from her left.

She she let out a burst of a sigh, shoulders slumping. "Okay. Sure," she said, "You're the Devil. What do you want?" She squinted at him suspiciously. "I'm not selling you my soul."

Lucifer laughed. It was a full, musical, belly laugh. It was enchanting. And somehow it set Indigo at ease.

"No, I'm not after your soul. Well, not right now, anyway." He came close and turned to offer her his elbow. "I don't want to discuss business tonight. Just let me walk you home."

Indigo tipped her head back and tried to look down her nose at him. He was a bit too tall for her to do that without looking drunk. "It's a long walk to my apartment. And it's generally a bad idea to let strange men walk me home."

Lucifer smiled, "But I am not a man."

"Then what are you?"

He reached up and delicately pulled her hair back with his hand, leaning in to bring his mouth very close to her ear. Indigo closed her eyes, her defenses neutralized. She could feel the heat of his lips on her skin even though they never touched her.

"I," he whispered, "am an angel."

After a moment that took too long, but was over too soon, he pulled away and Indigo opened her eyes to find herself, standing alone, in her living room. She looked around the room, bewildered, for several minutes, until it came to her attention that she was holding a piece of paper in her fingertips.

It was a business card. For a restaurant. A small Italian place about fifteen minutes from her apartment. She'd been there once, very good pasta. Cute wait staff too. Anyway, on the back of the card, handwritten, was the message: "Lunch tomorrow. 12:30."

Indigo squinted at the card for bit, glared at it even. Flipped it over a few times. Then she set it down on her coffee table. Walking towards the bathroom, she rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand and yawned. "Great. Date with the Devil. Woo woo."