#Claire sits in a diner picking at cheap food. and no one can see it but surrounding them is a mass of wings and teeth and broken halos

[quietwingsinthesky]

another part of it is that Claire’s identity, their independence, them being a separate entity from Lucifer and not just a vessel for her to walk and talk with, that’s all so important. She is not going to give Lucifer free rein to wear her until there’s none of her left. They’re not going to become their dad. She doesn’t want people to look at her smile one day, listen to her voice, and go ‘that’s Lucifer!’ before they ever remember there was someone else inside, if they do at all.

And so Lucifer is in the position of wrestling with Claire for control of their body, to negotiating with them, to figuring out how to co-exist. Which is! That’s new for Lucifer! Even with Sam, whether she wanted to or not, she had to be fully in charge, they could not move with one will because Sam and her’s goals were fundamentally different. But Claire learns how to work with her.

(And another reason Claire might say yes at all is because Lucifer isn’t playing to some greater plan. She’s making it up as she goes, lashing out as she’s hurt. She’s not some holy soldier descending from above with orders to be carried out. She’s the devil, and she’s understands what it’s like to be abandoned.)

[janiedean]

Maybe Danny being all awkward and asking Colleen to go out on a real date with him sometime....I would love to see how that goes with his lack of knowledge and innocence. I could see him trying fancy, but then they ditch it for something cooler! some fluff all around and of course Danny tryinggg to be normal lol

The more he thinks about it, the more Danny has a feeling that they’ve been going at it wrong.

Or better, it’s not as if he’s had time to re-acclimate himself with the basic concepts of dating since he came back to New York, but he had seen enough movies when he was a kid to know that if you’re dating someone you don’t bring catering to their house with take-out. Admittedly, normal people don’t meet the way the two of them did, and they definitely don’t hook up after one of them stitches the other up, and -

Right. They’ve gone at it wrong. That said, they have a week before they leave for China and he really wants to at least do something right by normal dating standards before they jump back into... well, not being normal.

Also, he has the means to treat Colleen to a serious date and he will. When he sits down to consider his options, he decides that since it looks like everyone goes eating out on dates, a restaurant might be a safe choice. Also, in those dates people always seem to dress up or at least bring out their nicest things, and at least he’s covered there - since he came back from the dead and got a place on board, someone saw fit to fill his closet with a bunch of suits he doesn’t even look at half of the time. Also - right. Flowers. If there’s one thing he remembers is that flowers were Definitely A Thing, and maybe also chocolate, but that was for St. Valentine’s. Which is not the case here, thankfully.

So: flowers, dinner out at a nice place, dressing well. Sounds doable. Also, didn’t people always send flowers, or show up with them?

He shrugs. He can do both, after all. He looks a bit around the internet, finds a fusion restaurant in Manhattan which is hailed as the Best Place To Eat Out If You Have Money Right Now in a lot of food critic blogs. It’s the kind of place where usually you need to reserve three months in advance, but turns out that they have always a few tables reserved for Rand Industries, so he finds one easily with just a phone call.

Good. He goes out of his apartment and heads for the florist around the corner, where he spends some twenty minutes discussing arrangements with the man before they settle on sending orchids over to the dojo and for him to pick up a lilies’ bouquet before he leaves in the evening. He writes a message on the back of a note attached to the flowers - see you this evening at seven PM, we’re going out.

An hour later, she texts him.

We’re... going out?

I figured we should have a proper date before we leave. :), he texts back.

Oh. Well then, see you at seven.

He grins to himself as he puts the phone away.

Right. He’s got this, at least up until now.

--

He goes to get the lilies later while dressed in the nicest suit he had in the closet. It’s admittedly fairly stifling, and he doesn’t like that it’s the same black that people wear to funerals, but it’s... the nicest he has, so it has to be the right choice. He has arranged for a driver to bring them, but he told them to pick a non-flashy car, so no one takes notice of the brand new black Toyota stopping in front of the dojo at seven PM sharp.

He knocks on the door. She opens it and takes a good look at him as he takes a good look at her. He thinks he’s never seen her wearing make-up but she is right now, not much but applied in a very classy way, and -

Oh. She wore a dress. Not fancy, it’s obviously not out of a fashion design boutique, but the red burgundy color looks great on her and it’s obvious that even if it’s not fashion design it still must have been at least a medium-priced store.

“If you want to ask where this came from, Claire dragged me shopping when she saw the flowers.”

“What?”

“She said that no one who sends orchids as an invitation is planning to drag me to a diner.”

“... She might have been right?”

Colleen smiles as she takes the flowers, and he thinks the pale lilac matches the color of the dress. “Well, thanks. You didn’t need to get them twice.”

“Why not?”

She shakes her head. “Given that this is the first time anyone gives me flowers, guess it’s my luck you’re the kind of guy who wants to make up for it. So, are we going?”

He swallows and nods as he offers her his arm - it’s kind of awkward but that’s how it’s supposed to go, isn’t it? - and they walk towards the car.

--

The place is, indeed, very fancy.

Even too much, for his standards. He didn’t remember things being so fancy from his childhood, he thinks as the waiter has them sit down at the table, which is thankfully in a small, reserved room.

Christ, the tablecloth is silk. The cutlery is silver. They left them champagne for starters in crystal glasses. And his tie feels kind of stifling, never mind that he feels like he can’t move inside that suit, but he doesn’t want to be a killjoy.

He glances at Colleen, who’s looking at the menu with furrowed brows. He grabs his own.

Fuck. He can’t even figure out what’s in half of the stuff they’re serving, and the other half is just - he ate in a monastery for half of his life, what the hell he’s going to do with... Roast Foie Gras with a Sweet and Sour Citrus Glaze, Candied Pineapple and Lime, written with the actual caps in the menu? Still, this is how proper dates are supposed to go, so he figures that he’ll just - order something and be done with it.

Right. He will, he -

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Uhm, am I wrong or you’re about to implode?”

“Sorry?”

“I’m halfway sure our cutlery is less strung tight than you are right now.” She sounds... concerned?

“It’s - I just have to get adjusted to it,” he says. “Really, just go ahead, I’ll be all right -”

“Danny, I don’t know about you, but I’d have been fine if you brought me to that cheap pizza place around the corner.”

She’s laughing as she says it, though. He puts down the menu and leans forward, and breathes out when her hand touches his. “That one is fairly shit, though,” he says through the knot in his throat.

“Right, maybe someplace better than that, but - really, I don’t even know what to do with half of the menu.”

“... Me either,” he admits.

“... Then why -”

“Er, I just - I wanted to do this properly? And it seemed - like, the proper way?”

Her fingers thread with his own.

“How about you leave them a nice tip, we get the hell out of here from the window and and find someplace we both like?”

He considers it - they’re at the ground floor. If they really leave through the window, no one’s going to see them. And there’s a certain glint in her eyes which suggests him she’s excited about the prospect, and honestly....

Honestly, it sounds a lot more them than whatever this whole fancy restaurant thing is.

“Okay,” he says, and why is he sounding giddy all at once, “you know what, let’s. I’ll just - let me pay and we’re out.”

He leaves on the table enough money to compensate them for any losses they might have and for the champagne, then takes off his tie and stuffs it in his pocket before opening the window and motioning for Colleen to step outside.

“Oh,” she laughs, “now instead of holding the door open for me you’re holding the window open for me?”

“Hey, I’ve got manners.”

“Sure you do,” she replies, and grabs the bouquet of flowers before gracefully hoisting herself out.

Half an hour later, they’re in some Greek place way far from Manhattan (she drove them after they let the driver go free), his suit is ruined because the food is good and plentiful and greasy but it doesn’t feel stifling anymore, they’re sharing gyros that they’re eating with their hands while drinking some fairly good Greek wine and he decides that he likes this a lot more than the previous alternative.

Patience if it’s not proper��- he thinks he’ll live with it, and so will Colleen, but from the way her fingers are still grasping at his own (they’ve been since they sat down), he thinks she agrees.