13526/A quick check-up

A quick check-up
Date of Scene:	19 June 2021
Location:	The Magic Box, Sunnydale
Synopsis:	Checking up on the MAgic box and it's people prompted Lucifer to do a Good Deed for the Day, like a proper boyscout.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer, Rupert Giles, Mercy Thompson, Willow Rosenberg

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Sinister has posed:
It has been quite a number of days since Sinister was last at the shop. He's been occupying his time between visits quite productively and unexpectedly, it must be noted. Waking up to a brand new morning in a very luxurious bed, a murmur had been shared "...need to check up on my human friends in Sunnydale. The ongoing struggle to learn the fundaments of magic requires getting down to the basics. Your library is beckoning." But with a caveat that there, his name is Nicholas Wessex, he's a general surgeon specializing in genetic anomalies and neurosurgery and he's only telekinetic. So if you want to poke about something, just think loudly about it.

And so, the doorbell of the Magic box chimes its cheerful dingaling and Wessex enters, looking about with his sunglasses firmly in place, mirrored on the outside and photosensitive. Can't trust that UV radiation on amortal eyes, after all. Eternity would suck if he had to keep curing eyeball cancers. "Giles?"

Lucifer has posed:
"It's still so quaint that you have humans you consider friendly..." Will be the joke Lucifer shares as he shuffles into wakefulness. "My library is beckoning? What's it saying?" Not that the Devil really sleeps, or maybe he does so the mortal glove he's fitted in will keep up appearances. The caveat is listened to, which means he's likely going, which will be interesting because Sinister and Lucifer do not know that they share a common friend. In fact, Lucifer keeps it a secret even as they walk up to the Magic Box and he tilts his head in such a way. "Nicholas. Alright."

And in they walk, Lucifer immediately stepping forward to begin poking and prodding at all things Wiccan inspired. "Do you think they have any newt tongue or dragon's tooth? That'd be pretty funny wouldn't it?" When that particular name is called out by the other man, Lucifer just grins and looks around. Oh this will be a delicious morsel to take in, indeed.

Rupert Giles has posed:
As it happens, in this moment, the Magic Box is quite empty. But only to appearances. Upon hearing the bell, which is entirely audible in the back, bells being handy that way, the door opens to show the Englishman. "Wessex," he greets. "Tea?" He turns to move toward the back again before the word has even properly been asked. He pauses when he hears the second voice, and turns back around. "Ah. Mister Morningstar. Yes, we have newt tongue. Dragon's tooth is a special order. One moment, please," he says, and then does turn for the back again.

Giles is gone for perhaps five minutes, and then returns with a tray, with three mugs on it, complete with tea bags. One has slightly darker contents than the other two, for it's had longer to steep. Also on the tray is a small box of sugar cubes, and a small stainless decanter with milk in it. He places the tray upon the counter. "Gentlemen," he says, motioning a hand to the tray. "Please do help yourselves." For himself, he claims the darker of the teas, and slides behind the counter.

Sinister has posed:
"AS far as I know, they use salamader eyes, which I'm told is just as good, but what do I Know?" Wessex replies. "And it's not that unusual for me to have friendly contact with people you know, it's just unexpected." <<Your library wants me to actually be able to decipher any of it, outside of the first editions and indeed, some of THOSE don't like me observing their lettering. They get squirrelly.>>

"Ah, Rupert, Oh, tea would be smashing..." and then the penny drops and he can but laugh. "You know each other! Of course you know each other, how daft of me to think otherwise." Laughing at himself, Sin steps up to examine what it is that Lucifer is looking at and offers a side-cuddle with it, before approaching the counter as cups are proffered. "GLad to see we're still all in one piece. Is Phobos still hanging around?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Bah. 'Mister Morningstar' is so..." Lucifer waves a hand through the air and then mentions, "Please. Call me Lucifer. All that Mister stuff can drive me mad." He offers and then tilts his head the other way while still poking and prodding at some stuff. "I did say I've been meaning to come here. How pleasant that I've come with another whom you know." Quaint. Coincidental. Something like that. However one wishes to view it, the Devil is pleased.

That side-cuddle is returned, there may even be a brushing of lips against a fleshy cheek. The scandal! Words in the head are heard and he gives another faint chuckle before turning back towards human and tea.

"Giles came into Lux once. I believe he was looking for someone...or something? I do not rightly recall..." A pause. "I pleased him with being able to serve a proper plate of fish and chips." Walking along with Wessex to approach the counter and it's offering of tea. Though he says nothing more aloud for the moment. <<So you're telling me I need to tell my books to behave? To let you read them since they so badly want it? Should be doable...>>

Rupert Giles has posed:
"Newt tongue is much less popular than newt eyes. Tongue we have. Eyes we don't. We have salamander eyes, instead. "We do, yes. We met at Lux. Best fish and chips I've had on this side of the pond." He shakes his head. "For the most part, he's gone back to his life." He glances to Lucifer and there's very distinct amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. "Is very polite," he points out. "And very British."

Giles lifts his mug of tea and has a sip of it. A careful sip, as it's still quite hot. He mostly ignores the side cuddle, and the kiss!, as unimportant, but there is a faint smile there. He's happy for the two. Having someone in their lives is good.

The question, and recollection, is met with a shake of Giles' head. "It was a nice place to stop after a long walk. I wasn't expressly looking for anyone or anything." Well. He'd been patrolling, in actual fact, and looking for vampires. Not that he'd seen any.

Sinister has posed:
<<Either that or I need to actively figure out enough of the fundamentals that they LET me decipher them on their own. I think they're playing games with me.>>

Smiling at the kiss and turning the cheek into it a little, the only thing that could break that association is a good cuppa. "I'm glad he's got on with things. It felt a little strange to have obligated him to be on guard duty to stray gods returning," Sinister wrinkles his nose to the side a little, squinting one eye with the social awkwardness of that. But as to the fish and chips, that raises a brow and he sidelong glances over the top of his sunglasses, removing them slow to tuck into his jacket pocket. "And you said your chef wasn't up to scratch to that degree. But I suppose it makes sense, given..." he gestures between the three of them in a pirrhouette of index finger and lifts his tea by way of a punctuation point. "I actually bonded over proper petite fours. America doesn't do cakes very well, when it comes to street bakeries. Everything is covered in too much sweetness. Who /actually/ needs a mountain of icing on top of a fairy cake? I swear."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
At this point of today, the braided pigtails of the woman-coyote are frayed. She's had something of a busy day, and it's also had its share of irritabilities to it. She wears a grey t-shirt with a cartoon image of a red Volkswagen beetle chugging across the front of it, a pair of cut-off jean shorts, and tan coloured steel-toed boots. There's a grease smudge on her left cheek, and another on her right upper calf. The knuckles of her left hand are mildly scraped but not bleeding.

Rather than come in through the front door, Mercedes approaches the back door, opening it and slipping inside. There's a container brought in her right hand. Half of it is filled with chocolate brownies that have chocolate chips in them and chocolate frosting -- there's no such thing as too much chocolate, in her opinion. The other half of the container has sugar cookies. Once within the back room, she closes the door, steps aside from it to lean against the wall there, and the exhales a breath. The Vanagon she's been driving instead of the more fuel efficient (and currently undrivable) Rabbit is parked on a street behind the shop.

Lucifer has posed:
<<I never said the books were nice. Heh. Something we can definitely work on when we're back home.>>

"Now now..." Lucifer holds up a finger. "I said my chef wasn't up to the degree of doing justice to a truffle. The fact that he can fry up a fish and some potatoes doesn't really say much about him..." This is offered before he gives a little chuckle, glancing to the third mug of tea, tilting his head some. "Ah, before I forget..." He reaches behind himself and then pulls out a box to offer to Giles. "Just in case you don't come around to Lux anytime soon..." Then he's dropping a sugar cube into his cup and lightly frowning. No matter, he'll endure without lemon this one time. Lifting the cup to take a sip. "Mmn. This is true. America is much too reliant on sugars. Just thinking about some decent petite fours makes me long for some. Might have to take a day trip to Europe soon..." Cause it could be just that easy for him, really.

Mercy's entry gains a look but nothing more. He simply sips tea for the moment after speaking, letting things further sink in.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow had been to the bakery in town (alas, not the one by Central Park), and bought four eclair. First it was only going to be two, and then she remembered Mercy, so she bought another one. And then she had a niggle that Doctor Wessex *might* be by, soooo she bought one more, thinking she would be safe.

Wrong.

"Oh my, I'm so behind." Willow blew through the front door, jangling its bell. "But I made it! Just an half an hour late. But I got eclairs for everyone.."

And right there she stopped.

One (herself). Two (Giles). Three (Mercy). Four (Doctor Wessex). And Five?

"Oh fiddle faddle." And to kick her when she down, it wasn't even her time to work. Tomorrow, not Saturday. Sunday. "Rats."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles makes a sound with his tongue, almost a cluck but not quite. "America doesn't do a lot of proper things well. I find it a blessing that I can, at least, get proper English tea here now." He has an expression of.. well, not quite disgust. "Too much sweet is too much sweet," he agrees. With no bell on the back door, Giles doesn't hear someone come through it. Not with a shut door between it and the front of the shop where the three Englishmen happen to presently be. Well. As far as Giles is concerned, in the present, they're all English.

He eyes the box offered to him for about half a second, before reaching out to take it. "What's this?" He sounds curious. That light frown gets a moment's thought, and then Giles glances to the back. "Lemon?" He's already moving toward the back again. He tends to keep lemon slices in the fridge. He likes the occasional slice in his tea too. The box has been left, unopened, on the counter. Courtesy comes first! "Hello Willow," he greets as he disappears through the door into the back.

That's when he finds out Mercy has arrived, and he takes one look at her leaning against the wall by the back door and blinks. "Everything alright?" He still moves toward the mini fridge, but his steps are slower.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's head turns and then the rest of him follows as he watches miss Rosenberg catch up to herself and the curse of eclair lack, tardiness and calender fubar. "Hello miss Rosenberg," formalities are still as they are. "Well, failing on English, there's always French. But those pastries always seem smug to me..." he holds up a hand at the stoppage of forward momentum. "This is Lucifer, he is here on his own account, but also with me. And as such, I'm perfectly happy to share my eclair with him, for the sake of it being the thought that counts."

For some reason the use of 'fiddle faddle' makes him outright giggle and he has to hide his face in his sleeve, turning to the Devil to gain a bit of composure.

Giggled: "Hello M'Mercy..." not good hearing, not good sense of smell, but he knew she was there and came bearing sugar. American with sugar. He goes off again, snorting into the snickerfit.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Threads of the conversation that's ongoing reach her ears. It's not a hard thing, given the sensitivity of her ears and that she's being quiet to be able to listen. She stays where she is for a moment, simply leaning against the wall near to the back door. There's a wander of her thoughts, back to the project that had occupied the earlier part of her day, and she blinks when the door on the other side of the room opens. Lifting her left hand, she brushes aside a stray bit of her hair, and then she pushes herself away from the wall, after his question is asked. "I figured I would bring by some treats," she offers. Saying that much gives her a moment of considering an answer for his question, after all.

Mercy doesn't even consider the option of lying or laying any manner of falsehood. "Umm... well. Technically... everything's alright," she says in a thoughtful tone, a small smile finding the corners of her lips to tug at them a bit. Walking the line of technicalities is something that Mercy does, sometimes, but she doesn't let it linger. "If everything doesn't include the Rabbit," she adds, wrinkling her nose slightly. And possibly the hot water tank that provides for her shop and home, but one problem at a time.

The greeting from the main room of the shop causes her to look past Giles and towards that part of the shop. Her nose twitches slightly, catching a hint of the scents from the other room. "Good afteroon, Doctor Wessex," she offers in greeting. Then her attention turns back to Giles. "I'll figure something out," she says, her brow furrowing. 'Something'. She has no idea what and nary a clue how much the something will surely end up costing. At least there are lots of rabbits in the field near her shop -- the edible kind.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives a blink and a side-eye to the man who has decided to gigglefit-snort into his shoulder and there's a shake of his head given. His own chuckle offered. As Giles mentions 'lemon', he blinks again and looks over to the man. "Ah, a slice or two would be lovely..." Did he say it out loud? Maybe he only thought he thought it but really spoke it. Maybe Giles is a mind reader. Who the hell knows these days!?

A glance is given over to the front door as the bell jingles and Willow makes her appearance. A soft smile given to the woman. "Ah, Miss Willow. A pleasure to see you again." Again? When did he see her before? It's a good thing Giles is in the back room or your secret would be out you little minx of a witch! Ha!

"Nath-icolas... calm yourself. You're acting like a little school boy." He's not =really= annoyed, but he makes it sound as such. It's actually taking everything he can muster to not fall apart much like his companion. Another glance given as Mercy walks further in to approach the group. "Is there something amiss that you might require assistance with, Miss Mercy?"

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
Willow is well used to it, the sniggers at her polite language.

She was just about to say *she* would do without, when the Doctor said he was able to share with Lucifer (who she now had a name for!), which didn't stick well with her. "It's alright. I can pick up some days olds on my way home."

But it was Lucifer (the same Lucifer as in the Bible stories.. well that's a misnomer, ahem) she tried to shake her head at, telling him 'don't say you've met me' without words.. And he missed it. Bother! "Hi. Funny meeting you here."

Between running herself at both ends, and trying new things, including nudges from Tala, is it any wonder this didn't happen sooner.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles pauses where he can still see, and hear, through the open central doorway. He raises a brow at Wessex. "Did he swallow a funny pill?" His attention is pulled readily back to Mercy. "Oh dear. That doesn't sound promising. Worse damage than at first expected?" He walks on to the fridge and gets a small sealed container of lemon slices out. It has the look of tupperware. The lid is pink, of all things. He nods to her about the Rabbit. "I'll help you," he offers. And a pause, as well as an interested look. "Treats?"

Giles isn't a mind reader, no. But when there's a grimace over tea that has been willingly accepted, and cream and sugar are already there for the taking, the assumption is the citrus is missing. That's part body language and part observation! And he might be in the back, but the center door is open and there's nothing wrong at all with his hearing.

Lemon fetched, he takes a moment to get another cup and bag of tea down. The water still being hot, he pours it over the tea bag in the cup, and then offers the cup to Mercy. "Sugar and milk are out front," he says, turning to walk in that direction.

Once to where he can see the front again, he glances from Lucifer to Willow and back again. "You two know each other?" He walks to Lucifer and offers the container of lemon to the Devil. Okay. Sometimes he's observant. He quite misses the almost wrong name given to Wessex. Once again, there's a glance between Willow and Lucifer. Giles' expression is thoughtful.

Sinister has posed:
"Oh dear, eeee-hee!" Sinister takes a moment holding his breath and there's another bout of shoulder-jiggling silent chuckles until he gives Lucifer's chest a little pitter patpat with his non-tea hand and straightens, curling lips into his mouth and looking deliberately up at the coving in the shop and NOT at anyone. <<The last few days have been saturated in amusing language, I think that was just the last straw>> "MMMMMMMMMmmmmm-hmm-mmm" and eyes close. Deep breath.

"Oh, my word. ANyway. Ah. You know miss Rosenberg also? You really do know everyone. Including me, apparently." Grin. That last to Lucifer, he looks to Willow cautiously then and glances through to the back room as Giles chimes in. Another deep breath.

"You not mended the Rabbit yet, Mercy? What's actually wrong with it?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
There's a glance towards the fellow who had been serving bar at Club Lux the night she'd ducked in there, and one of her eyebrows quirks up just a touch. There's a brief glance towards Giles, and then her attention turns back to Lucifer. "Umm... I appreciate the offer. I just need a chance to figure out the options and go from there," Mercy says, giving a small nod. It's true, at least. Though the options aren't really many and she's been doing mechanic work for long enough to know what they are.

Mercy's gaze turns to Giles at his words, and she wrinkles her nose a little bit. "It's not really promising, and it's a fair bit worse than what I'd hoped. The engine is beyond being repaired," she says in a quieter voice. Which means she either needs to source and acquire an engine for it or get a different vehicle. And then she blinks at him, at his offer of help. "You will?" she asks quietly, and she can't help that she sort of stares at him for a helpless little moment. Then she ducks her chin a little bit. "I mean... thank you," she says quietly, sincerely, briefly looking to him through her lashes. It takes her a moment to address the question he'd asked after that, and she gives a small nod, a bit of colour creeping to her cheeks. "Mmhmm, treats. Sugar cookies and brownies," she says, a smile coming to tug at the corners of her lips. Chocolate is often the first step in problem solving.

She tilts her head a touch to one side, watching as he fixes another cup of tea which he brings over and offers to her. Little things are important things. "Thank you, Rupert," she says softly, a warm note to her voice, and a truer smile comes to her features and to reflect in her eyes. Did he just entirely defuse the mood that the day had put her in? He did! Her gaze follows him as he heads back towards the front of the shop, and then she starts to follow after him, carrying her tea and the box of treats that she'd brought along. It's only once she's into the front part of the shop that she notices Willow, and she gives a nod of greeting, a smile tugging her lips. "Hey, Willow," she offers in greeting.

Mercy raises an eyebrow slightly as her gaze turns to Sinister, and then she gives a little shake of her head. "It's not mended. It's taken apart, but not mended. The engine of it is rather beyond repair. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, yet," she answers, a bit uncertain. She hasn't started fixing any other part of it since she wanted to root out the big problem first -- why it wouldn't start.

Lucifer has posed:
Oh that's right. Lucifer was tending bar and made none the wiser of who he was at the time. Tapping his chin, he then looks to Sinister once more, a brow raised but a nod given. Though he also catches the non-tea hand which pats against his chest with his own non-tea hand and offers a squeeze. <<I shall have to think of more amusing language to use then...>> Offering words, but not allowed and then he regards Giles. Ah, lemons! He procures one and drops the slice into his mug, letting the steam take on that citrus scent which he actually breathes in for a moment.

In regards to knowing Willow, he smirks a moment. "I mean it's not like Melville and Sunnydale are miles apart, nor is Lux that far from here either. A stones throw. There's been a passing greeting." See, he covers the truth with a blanket. Did he know her? Yes. Was it because she went into Lux? Yes. Was he going to say that in front of Giles and other mixed company? Absolutely not. He doesn't blow covers. Covers blow themselves given enough time.

There's a glance to Mercy then and a raising of a brow. Though it seems like the issue has resolved itself. So Lucifer decides to simply sip more tea.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
What to do. What to do.

It was apparent that she had met him, Lucifer, but where and when. Sure 'Lux' was mentioned in theory, she was impressed, but dagnabit, why did she have to sneak around, when everybody else didn't. If /they/ wanted to go to a club, they could go, no worries. Heck their friends /asked/ them to go.

Just not Willow.

Everybody treated her as special. Sugar! Well two could play at that game.

Willow threw back her shoulders and *stared* at everyone, and put on a small, smug smile. "It was.. amazing.. wouldn't you say so Luci?" Letting her final glance stay on him.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles nods once, firmly. "Of course I'll help," he says, reaffirming that notion for Mercy. "You're welcome." He pauses as treats, the specific contents of, are stated. "Brownies are always nice." Well, it's only the truth! The thanks for the tea is met with an equally warm smile. "You're welcome, Mercy," he says, his tone warm too. "Is there no way to replace the damaged parts of the engine? Or is it going to require a new engine?"

For the moment, he does his best to mostly ignore Wessex in his giggle fits. His blue eyes go to rest on Lucifer. "It would seem to be that you've broken the good doctor." His lips twitch, fighting an outright smile. Someone's amused.

Someone doesn't even seem to be surprised at the thought that Willow might have been in Lux. Giles isn't stupid. Occasionally oblivious, but far from stupid. He can put two and two together very easily. "Mmhmm. Which means Willow has discovered Lux as well," he says. He glances to Willow. "Have you had the fish and chips there yet? Quite good." Giles doesn't seem to be surprised. If anything, he seems pleased.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister gives Lucifer an eye, side and below brows, grins and stabilizes his tittering with a good couple of gulps of tea, setting to the eclair and neatly pulling it in half with his mind. Two halves float over to napkins and settle on them. He has absolutely no qualms about sharing, it seems fair to say. "I sometimes have a knack with engines, Mercy. The same thing that applies to me being able to hold a tiny vein from bleeding out, allows me to keep a cracked engine block together whilst it's aptly soldered. I just need to know where to hold steady, if you'd rather repair parts. Also, I can exert at least two tons of pressure on warped metal at a pinch; again, I just need to know what it's supposed to be shaped like, rather than what it currently /is/. Makes me a genius with panel beating, and fender bending, too." He taps his head, looking surprised at the squaring of the Willow. Brows lift a little and he looks from the red-headed witch to Lucifer with the same loftbrow expression and a little amused twist of lip.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
There's a look given to Lux's bartender at the conversation ongoing between himself and Willow, and then her attention slides to Willow at the words added. "There's good beer on tap as well," Mercy says, giving a small nod. She glances briefly between the pair of them, and then she lifts her mug of tea to take a small sip of it. She sets the square plastic container of treats onto the counter.

Mercy's gaze turns to Giles, and she tilts her head a little to one side as she studies him, weighing his questions. "Well... a new or salvaged engine is usually the fix," she muses, her tone thoughtful. Her brow furrows a little bit in a thoughtful way, and she takes a sip of her tea. "Mm, see... now you've got me thinking a bit sideways," she says, quirking a smile and looking to Giles. "If the engine gets stripped down the rest of the way, cleaned out and what have you, all of the broken bits removed and new ones put in...," she muses, the words trailing off as she considers the possibility. She lifts her mug, taking a sip of her tea again.

The unexpected offer from Sinister pulls her from her current train of thought, and she tilts her head a touch to one side as she looks over to him. And she blinks at the information that he supplies, the information itself surprising and causing one of her eyebrows to nudge up a little bit. "Repairing parts is less expensive, so that is my preference. And that's a significant amount of pressure. That rather changes what can be done, and how. I'll check the welding tank and rods, make sure that I've got the right ones for being able to fill the crack and get it to bind," she says in a thoughtful tone. A smile finds her features and she gives a nod to him. "If you don't mind helping, that is. I can let you know when things are prepared," she adds. "Thank you, Doctor Wessex... I didn't think of the possibility of your talents having mechanical sorts of applications," she admits, a bit sheepishly.

Lucifer has posed:
Oh. Oh the 'Luci' kind of stings a little. No one really calls him that, not even his true lovers. Still, he stares forward for a moment, everything behind the counter seeming to gain his immediate interest while blue eye dim to almost black and spark hellfire. A smirk plays upon lips before his attention turns and sets directly onto Willow's. "I wouldn't know. We never did test to see how good that little black barely covering anything dress looked on my bedroom floor." Then he grins wide, teeth bared, holding the witch's gaze a moment longer before turning back towards his tea.

For the moment he was talking to Willow, Sinister had been speaking with Mercy. Then there's a comment, no one hears it but Lucifer, and it so happens the comment is made when he's mid-sip of his tea. There's a sputtering. If he were an anime character there'd be a blip aside his head and he'd just go all ex-eyed. Instead, he chokes a bit on his tea in a not-so-gentlemanly fashion and sets the mug back down. A pause, a wiping of his lips and brushing off of his shirt. He then gives Sinister 'A Look' before scoffing. "...Twit..." Is muttered under his breath before he looks up and over at everyone else.

His gaze, still near black and flickering will hellfire, lands on Giles and he chuckles. "She came in, had a drink, and then...possibly tucked out. I don't think she was among the lambs for too terribly long..." Assuring The Watcher of this before taking a breath, reaching for that floaty piece of eclair that Wessex shared with him and deftly takes a bit to keep his mouth busy with chewing instead of talking for a moment.

Willow Rosenberg has posed:
And there it was. Nobody believed anything untoward about her. Sure she's not looking at the positive side: Willow goes to clubs. What she is stuck on is nobody thinks bad about her. Even when she intimated she was flirting, and more(?), with Lucifer.

If fact there goes Lucifer spilling the whole evening to make certain nobody gets the idea about him and her.

She deflates. "Excuse me." And leaves by the front door.

Rupert Giles has posed:
"I didn't have the beer, but the Glenlivet was good." Giles shifts closer to the counter to retrieve a cloth from behind it that he knows is hung in a certain spot. When he straightens, it's with cloth in hand. Giles steps to Mercy and lifts it to wipe off the oil smudge on her cheek. Unless she moves to pull away, of course.

Giles nods about what the fix happens to be. And then he smiles at what she goes on further to say. "I imagine it would take time, but... would it be worth it in the end?" Another smile as Wessex's help is offered, and accepted. Oil streak now cleaned up, Giles steps back and over to the counter again. He leans against it, and lifts his tea to sip it quietly.

Giles' brow lifts as he gazes now between Lucifer and Willow again. "Little black barely covering anything dress?" How he says it is no less scandalous than how Lucifer had said it. Maybe it's the accent? The raised brow is turned on Lucifer at the spluttering and coughing, and 'twit'. On that, he doesn't comment.

On Willow, however, he does. "Well. She's allowed. She's an adult." If it were something else, something more than simply going into Lux and having a drink, he might be scandalized. Except then there's a Willow leaving. "Was it something I said?" Maybe oblivious. Maybe not, in this case.

Sinister has posed:
"Well, will do. I know Giles has my pager number. Easier than a cellphone half the time," Sinister replies to Mercy, looking back at the tableau between Lucifer and Willow for a long moment as people all about seem to take her rebellion against the moment as just 'good old Willow'. He tracks her as she makes to leave. "I swear, one of these days I'll have a full on conversation with you and it might even be productive. You're a little mystery, miss Rosenberg and there's considerably more to you than meets the eye."

He checks to see if anyone's going to stop her with casual little glances, then eats his own eclair half, blue-grey eyes slipping onto Lucifer and sticking there for a while, mostly on the hellfire's afterglow. Nobody reacted muchly, yet. Maybe there's delayed reaction. Who knows?

"So, I have finished the books I bought, by the by. What would be a recommended next read?" There's a look the way that the red-head went and he shakes his head. "I have this funny feeling, it's what you all didn't say..." he muses, chewing on his cheek.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
One of Mercy's eyebrows quirks just a touch at the spluttering of tea that happens with Lucifer. Maybe something went down the wrong way? It's possible, and it happens easily enough sometimes. But then there are other factors to it, and Mercy isn't entirely sure that's necessarily the case. He seems recovered, and so she lifts her mug of tea to take a sip of her own. Her gaze drifts to Willow, following her and watching then as the witch leaves. That was a bit abrupt, but she doesn't make to stop her.

Mercy turns her gaze to Giles, and she tilts her head a bit to one side, a smile quirking at the corners of her lips. "It was a good beer. Though maybe next time I'll try what you have," she says, giving a small nod to him. She blinks a couple of times and makes an inquisitive sort of sound when he applies the cloth to her cheek, and she doesn't move away at all. And then her cheeks flush a little bit. "Did I... have a smudge?" she asks, a bit sheepishly. Then she ducks her chin a little. "Thank you, Rupert," she says in a warm tone, a smile coming easily to her features. "And it likely wouldn't take too long, considering that right now I don't really have an overwhelming number of other appointments. If it stays quiet, I could have it dismantled the rest of the way and cleaned up in just a few days," she says. "It would be worth it. And affordable," she adds, giving a nod. The latter is an important aspect for her.

Mercy turns her gaze to the good doctor, and then she gives a small nod. "Thank you. Since Rupert will be helping me to get it apart then he'll know once it's done to be able to send you a page to let you know," she says, giving a small nod.

Lucifer has posed:
There's a blink, and then another, plus the slight shaking of Lucifer's head before his eyes return to their normal dull blue. He takes a steadying breath to let out slowly. A glance given to the door as Willow disappears through it and then he shrugs. "Well of course she's an adult. She's also an interesting person. I do hope to have many more of my own conversations with her." He offers and then lifts a single shoulder in a shrug.

There's a glance offered to Mercy then before he looks between her, Giles, Sinister and back again. "If there are any costs that need to be offset, allow me to offer my own aid in this endeavor. Whatever monetary requirements are needed, I will fund them. Either have bills sent to Lux, or..." He looks himself over, then reaches into a pocket and pulls out a card, placing it on the counter top. "Call me, and I'll come resolve whatever is needed." Since Mercy is her own mechanic, labor obviously isn't an issue, but parts can be, and so his offer stands true.

A final sip from his cup renders the tea finished and then he takes the last bite of his half of the eclair given by Sinister. He then stands, not with intentions to leave, but he does turn and wander back over to the shelves to peruse wares for a moment more. Almost seeming genuinely considering making a purchase.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles blinks, and blinks again. "Well. I do. Somewhere. I think I saved it into my phone." He pauses and feels his pockets, shakes his head, and looks to Mercy. "The question is, where did I leave my phone?" He pauses again. "And did I remember to charge it?" Because he often forgets. Though Giles knows how to use computers, including the phones that have all but become pocket computers, he just doesn't like using them. They make him more than a little nervous, still to this day.

Wessex's words to Willow bring him to raise his brow at the man. He looks toward the door the redhead had disappeared through, and looks thoughtful. This may or may not be a good thing. Because 'more than meets the eye'? He knows Willow's a much more powerful magic user than he himself is, but he doesn't know just how much and now he's thinking. Whatever he's thinking, he doesn't speak to stop Willow.

He focuses more properly on the good doctor and thinks about that instead. "That would depend greatly on where you're going next in your studies," he says. He keeps hold of the tea mug with his right hand, and tucks his left into his jeans pocket on that side.

"Just what was it we were supposed to say? Were we supposed to act scandalized that she'd been to Lux?" To Mercy, Giles shrugs ever so slightly. "You've had it. The same Glenlivit scotch I drink at home," he explains. "Perhaps next timme I'll try the beer." He smiles at Mercy. "Yes, you had a smudge. Had. Past tense. It's gone now." He carefully doesn't mention the one on her upper thigh! "You're welcome, Mercy."

He nods about her Rabbit. "That seems the better option, then," he says. "If nothing else, I can hand you tools." He nods about the page. "If I remember my phone. If I remember to charge it." Which there are no guarantees of!

Sometimes observant. Sometimes not. Giles frees his left hand and gestures toward Lucifer. "What was that with your eyes just now?" He nods about Willow being an interesting person. She really is. On that he agrees very much. He blinks at Lucifer's generous offer of money help. He looks to Mercy, maybe having an idea, or suspicion, of how she might react.

The variety of books in a shop supposed to be all for magic is actually a pretty good one. Magic. History. Treatises. Some other various things such as nature and animals. Giles watches Lucifer as he wanders, expression curious but not suspicious of ill intentions.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister spreads his hands out, finishing his cup of tea and setting it off on its road toward the kitchen sink. It can distantly be heard landing in there and the faucet of the tap turning on to rinse it out. CLunk on the sideboard. "It was just the impression I got -- there's not necessarily any logic to the young wishing for the command of attention for their bad behaviour, sometimes the smallest of rebellions can still have the greatest of impact when they're not recognized. I doubt in her mind, that the logical acts of treating a responsible young woman as an adult fell on the side of the fence it was supposed to." He looks to Mercy for a moment, as she'll reply herself, then at Lucifer at his response.

Looking that way, but speaking over his shoulder. "I suppose the fundamentals of magic? A simple book of simple spells that are harmless. Glamours or cleaning potions and their ilk. If I am to truly find out if I have any ability at all, I need to actually try, now that I understand the history and culture of it more." He looks back, but then to Lucifer again, his lips pressed thin. He goes over to the man's side and reaches a hand for his elbow, offering a light touch there.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy tilts her head a little bit to one side as her gaze turns to Lucifer, her brow furrowing a little bit. Then she gives a small shake of her head as she takes a moment to consider what to say. Things need to be said carefully, sometimes. "Your offer of aid is quite generous, but... I can't accept it. You had nothing to do with what happened to my car, and... well... the Rabbit is my car, and my responsibility for paying for the fixing of it," she says, her tone thoughtful. If she's lucky, she might be able to scavenge part of the parts she needs from the rusted Volkswagens that lurk in the field behind her garage.

She turns her gaze to Giles, and a smile tugs her lips. "You're always leaving it somewhere. I'm not sure where it is, this time. I can try calling it for you, to see if that would help in finding it. If it's charged, at least," she offers. She lifts her mug, to take a drink of her tea. One of her eyebrows quirks, and she lifts one of her shoulders in a bit of a shrug. "I'm not sure if we were or not. It's a pretty club, Lux is. Maybe one day I might have to get a dress and wear it there," she says, her brown eyes showing a flicker of amusement to them. Then she makes a soft sound before giving a nod to him. "Oh, that makes sense. I didn't realize that was the brand of it," she says, a touch sheepishly. She doesn't tend to drink much alcohol. "The smudges always end up in places I don't notice," she adds, a good natured sort of grumble.

Mercy gives a light laugh then before nodding in ageement to Giles. "You can hand me tools, mmhmm. It's safer than me tucking them in under the car," she comments, quirking a bit of a grin. "If you don't remember your phone, or charging it -- which, by the way, I've got a charger in the shop that'll fit your phone -- then just bring the pager number and I can send the page from my phone," she offers. She looks to Sinister and tilts her head to one side, a flicker of curiosity coming to her eyes. "Isn't there some way of being tested or something to see if you have magic rather than trying random spells to see if they work?" she wonders, curiosity in her words. Her nose twitches a little and she studies him a moment, but she doesn't say anything further.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives a blink and glances over to Giles as the man questions him about his eyes. A little smirk plays on his lips. Direct questions gain direct answers, whether the person is ready and willing to hear and accept the answer is another thing entirely. "That? Hellfire. The flickering of. Happens sometimes. Usually because I will it to, sometimes because I'm in particular moods or sensing things." That grin remains. "It's the Devil in me I suppose."

Then there's a soft chuckle before he grabs a few herbs of interest. If it's there he's grabbing Adder's Tongue, Bloodroot, Belladonna and Motherwort. Then seeming to peruse other spots and picks up a tiger's eye, opal, obsidian and malacite. That touch to his elbow draws his attention to Sinister and he smiles brightly. Words from Mercy grab his attention after and he turns towards her direction. "Saying that I had nothing to do with what happened to your car is like admitting you got in it one day and told it to stop starting and completely break. Parts cost money. As much as Nicholas can bend and will metal...it's better for it to be fixed like new and not put together with other pieces right?" He seems to consider this before looking to Sinister. "I'm not wrong, am I? I mean I could be wrong, but I do not think I am." Still. "If you insist.." He'll find a way to fulfill his offer.

A moment beside himself, he leans up to offer a gentle kiss to Sinister's lips and then something else Mercy says catches his attention even though she said it to Sinister and he can't help but chuckle. "Because, my dear, we are creatures who get more thrills on cause and effects of trial and error than just doing a test to see if we pass. Tests are boring. Experimenting is fun."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles watches the tea cup float on past, and then pays it no further mind than to note the turning on, and off, of the tap in the back. "Ah. I think I see what you mean," he replies to Wessex. He looks thoughtful. "Are you telling me I should get angry with her for going to a club? Or should I act shocked if she says something suggestive that I don't believe a bit?"

The Watcher straightens from his lean and sets his tea cup, still half full, on the counter. He moves easily through the shop, past Lucifer, and up the stairs to the upper section. He crouches down in front of the furthest shelf on the right, and pulls out a book. "Ah. I think this one will do right enough," he says. He pauses a moment there, and then uses the shelf to help him get himself back to his feet. Giles feels all those grey hairs some days more than others. He glances out the windows. "I feel we might have weather coming. I'm stiff like you wouldn't believe."

Giles seems usurprised by Mercy's refusal of the gift of monetary support for her Rabbit. He makes his way down from the section upstairs. At least today he seems to be having zero problems at all. Not even any hints of passing out or the like. He seems to have fully recovered from trying to sacrifice himself on Buffy's behalf. He nods to Mercy's offer. "You can try. It might work." Calling his phone, that is. "I might have gotten out of the house with it."

As Mercy mentions dresses and wearing one at Lux, Giles misses his step and nearly goes head over heels onto the floor. But catches himself on the railing. And, well, it was the last step. His blue eyes are a touch wide as he looks at Mercy. "That would be lovely," he says. Wessex and Lucifer might as well not even be in the shop right at the moment, for all of his attention is on Mercy.

"It's what I drink," he says, somewhat absently, about Glenlivet. "Smudges do that." He blinks and focuses back on the here and now, moving toward Wessex, and proffering the book toward the doctor. "This might do. Minor spells. Luck, mostly. Happiness. That sort of thing. A few health potions and the like."

Giles glances toward Mercy. "Best not tuck them under the car where you risk losing them if they don't fall on you," he says with a smile and a sparkle to his eyes, tone with a hint of teasing. "Ah. I'm not sure I kept the number after I saved it." He probably had. It's likely tucked into a book somewhere, or maybe the register here. He nods to Mercy's question. "Sometimes. Some magicians can tell. Sometimes there are spell tricks to try. Sometimes they don't work and a person can still learn if they work hard at it. And sometimes, there's no aptitude at all."

Giles' attention is drawn to Lucifer at the honest answer. Which the Watcher takes entirely in stride. "Cool," he says. Giles has seen some odd things, and odder people, in his fifty years. And he knows more than one person of demonic origin. He smiles. "Well, there's a bit of Devil in all of us, isn't there?" Each one of the herbs sought after is there to be had. Most of them are behind the counter and Giles can easily enough wrap up the amounts desired. The stones, on the other hand, are in helpful baskets out on racks.

He glances to Mercy, expression thoughtful. "Lucifer isn't wrong," he says, tone matching expression. He chuckles and hooks a thumb toward Lucifer. "And also that, for experimenting rather than testing. I did my fair share of experiments when I was younger.." He chuckles softly.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister returns the kiss. FOr a moment, nothing else exists, so he totally missed the almost faceplant that occured up on the gurney. Good thing that, too. There might have been quippage, which is not remotely like quiddage and nowhere near as fun. He even joins the gentle kiss with a stroke of the cheek, indulging the moment with a brush of the back of his hand. The smile he wears for a moment afterwards is as kosher as Reuben sandwiches.

But then, he is looking back toward Mercy and raising a finger in punctuation of a point. "Totally valid. But here's the thing; Lucifer knows more people than there are names in the los Angeles phone book. If we can't fix all that there is in there, because something is so balls that it's deader than lead in petrol, he's on the line for finding who can source the part. It's valid. Because I surely don't know all the auto dealerships that specialize in out-of-production VW parts, that's for sure."

The book Giles found is floated from the man's palm and brought over thereafter to inspect. "A test would not be a hundred percent accurate, most tests are not, there's a margin for error and false positives that get erradicated by actual attempt at replicating the desired result. Aka: I like to toss things together with the best of them and hope that something interesting comes out of it. Half of scientific progress can happily label itself a happenstance event of sheer dumb luck. Not that I agree with the prevalence of them these days, but -- forever chemicals such as teflon, got discovered by trying to find a suitable lining for the Atomic bombs that were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We discovered superglue by trying to find an in-the-field triage bandage and we might just discover the next cautionary tale in do not futz around with things, by Nicholas Wessex attempting to turn a tomato a peculiarly electric shade of blue."

Pause, beat. He gestures at Lucifer. "Not just a bit of Devil. The whole deal. And amazingly, he isn't in Georgia."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The answer that Lux's bartender offers in regards to his eyes is one that catches Mercy's attention. She raises an eyebrow slightly as she looks to the fellow, and she tilts her head faintly to one side. Hellfire? Crap. She lifts her mug of tea, taking a sip of it, and then she sets the mug near to the container of treats that she had brought. "You weren't the one who stomped on the car that caused the damage that made it stop working," Mercy says, one of her eyebrows quirking up a touch. She has a point. A small one, but a point all the same.

Damn it! He has a point. Even she would have to admit that he does have a point. There's something to be said for using parts that are new rather than ones that have been roaming about in a vehicle for years on the road already. She lifts her recently freed hand to push a bit of hair from her face, and she exhales a breath. "You are not wrong, about the parts," she admits. Then she tilts her head a little bit to one side. "Experimenting is certainly more fun than just doing a test. And you learn more from it, too," she adds, giving a small nod.

Mercy turns her gaze to Giles, watching him as he fetches a book. "I vaguely remember the forecast mentioned something about rain this evening or tonight. Thunderstorms, maybe? It won't be a good night for running amok," she says. Running amok? It's not likely to be a good night for hunting rabbits, either. She pulls out her phone from a back pocket of her shorts. She unlocks it, flips through her contacts and dials Giles's phone. She sets the phone on the counter whilst waiting to hear what happens with the call. One of her eyebrows quirks up as she looks over to Giles from her phone when he stumbles, and if her ears could be perked up then they would be from the comment that follows it. Her chin ducks a touch and her cheeks turn red. "It could maybe be arranged," she suggests, giving a small nod, her brown eyes bright. A dress. That's a thing she's not contemplated in literally years.

She gives a light laugh at his teasing, and then she nods in agreement. "They usually fall on me rather than getting lost," she comments, quirking a bit of a grin. Then she tilts her head to one side, studying Giles a lingering moment. "You're meaning about the parts, that he's not wrong, aren't you?" she asks, lifting a hand to push some of her hair back from her face.

Her attention slips over to Sinister, and she tilts her head a bit to one side. And then she gives a small nod. "That makes sense. It's a lot of aftermarket parts, depending on the age of the vehicle," she says, a smile quirking a bit at the corners of her lips. She glances towards the card that Lucifer had set out, and then she turns her gaze towards the fellow himself. "If I accept your help in regards to the costs, then I'll pay you back the money that the parts end up costing," Mercy says, watching him.

Lucifer has posed:
For the Magic Box being a little store with only four people within it's walls there happens to be a lot going on. The returned kiss from Sinister is accepted willingly, a tilt into that hand cupping his cheek for the moment is given as well. As the kiss breaks and they come back to the land of conversations, Lucifer is all smiles as well while he glances back over towards Giles and Mercy. Though it's a comment from Sinister that has him actually giving a chuckle. "I sure do miss that golden fiddle I never actually gave up to begin with. Can you imagine? Me playing fiddle?" He ponders a moment. "I mean, I could play I'm sure, but I definitely prefer the piano..."

Then he's turning to actually walk from Sinister who is now engrossed in a book that Giles has given him. It's an endearing look that Sinister is left with from Lucifer just before the man walks up to the counter and places the items he intends to purchase upon it. "Mister Giles. Miss Mercy. I must confess. For the truth will likely come out sooner than later. Mister Nicholas is correct. Not a devil. THE Devil. I AM Lucifer Morningstar. Lord of Hell. The Fallen. All of that. I am among the Earth now because Hell got fucking boring. I am not here to raise any caine or cause any shenanigans. Most of all that is coincidental. But just as you deal with vampires and gods, you now also have the Devil among your ilk." A pause. "If you cannot accept this, then I can understand and stay away. I hope it is not such, however, because I do happen to enjoy the company you all give me in various forms."

Then he turns and addresses Mercy. "If you need new parts, from anywhere we can source them, I will do such. In return, all I ask, is that you and Mister Giles here get a little dressed up and come to Club Lux for a night. Pay a little into that which will fund your car getting fixed up, and we will call ourselves even." He smirks, he can't help but to do such and then inclines his head. "Do we have a deal?"

It's coincidence! He swears! But no sooner does the Devil offer words of a deal does thunder rumble above the shop. He's still smirking, and doesn't seem swayed. Then he looks to the items on the counter and to Giles in kind. "I'd like to pay for these items...and order a couple of dragon's teeth if you would be so kind."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles comments not at all on the kiss. He's seen such things fairly frequently. If anything, he's happy seeing that someone he considers a friend is happy. Nope. He moves back to his counter and takes up his tea again, lifting it to have a sip of it. No care taken, the tea is lukewarm at best by this point. He nods to Wessex and Lucifer. "Another valid point," he says, about who is best for sourcing parts. It's certainly not Giles, either!

The book leaving his hand isn't something terribly surprising or shocking either. Giles simply opens his hand to let it go as it wills. Or as Wessex wills it. He remains silent on the topics of happenstance and atomic bombs and field triage bandages. Instead, he adds a caution of his own, "Or something worse than turning a tomato blue. Magic is dangerous, Nicolas. Sometimes the best intentions can have very bad results that were never the intent of the caster. Nothing in there is high enough powered that it should cause any problems, but anything can happen with magic." He turns to look at Lucifer, and lifts a hand to point a finger at the man. Devil. Whatever. "You, are charged with making sure he doesn't get hurt in the process of his experimenting."

Giles shrugs at the bit about Lucifer being the devil. "Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Point is, I don't really care either way, so long as he doesn't have bad intentions." He pauses, and glances to Lucifer. "So long as you don't have bad intentions, you're more than welcome to come around. If you do bad, the Scoobies will be obligated to take you down." Whether it's feasable or not.

Only now does Giles reach for a treat. First, one of the brownies Mercy had brought. He busies himself with chowing down on it. There are even very soft pleased sounds. It's good! He grimaces as he glances to Mercy. "Experimenting with magic can be fun, but it can also blow up in your face." Perhaps literally! "But you are right. Experimentation teaches more." Giles says that with a sense of some experience.

As Mercy dials Giles' phone, the only thing that happens is that her phone goes straight to voice mail. So, wherever it is? That phone be dead. Deader than a doornail dead, probably. He lowers the tea to look more closely at her, and swallows once, visible by the bobbing of his adam's apple. Thoughts of Mercy in a dress are very clearly back in his head. "I like that idea."

He nods about the parts again. "Yes. He's not wrong about the parts. And sourcing them." He glances to Lucifer then, and nods toward Mercy. "She's more stubborn than I am. You might not win this one." He chuckles, the sound amused. He moves behind the counter and starts to ring up items, bagging them up with care afterward.

"Yes yes. I have only one question," he speaks, looking to Lucifer again. "Do your wings have feathers, or are they more like a bat's wings?" Hey, it's a fair question! He raises a brow at the thought of getting dressed up and going out to the Lux. "Well, I..." He takes a breath and looks to Mercy, and then back to the Devil. He doesn't answer. It's not, technically, his Deal, but Mercy's. Er go, he can't answer for her.

For himself... he seems a little hesitant. Does he even know how to dance? It might have been years since he last went out to something like Lux, dressed up with intent to dance and such. He glances up at the rumble of thunder. "That explains my achy joints," he says in a quiet voice. Giles' attention returns to Lucifer and he nods. He finishes ringing up and bagging the items. "How many dragons' teeth?" It seems he will be so kind.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister looks aside at Lucifer. "Told you," although he didn't say anything of the sort that might have consituted a 'told' moment, it is nevertheless said. Obliging of a moment though, apparently there's something in Wessex that feels a little note of gravitas and anticipation, for he keeps eyes on Lucifer throughout Giles words. Some of it actually looks as if it's touching him in odd ways, as his 'chisselled' features end up softening somewhat.

"And you have also been told," he jerks his thumb at the librarian and settles back, leaning his butt against the nearest counter, book set aside. He will pay for it, after Lucifer is done with the cash register. "I have no intention of bad intention in this regard. But as I have noted already, I will never know if I do not try. I dislike that there is an entire avenue of potential cock-up that I might otherwise be unaware of, when I could do something proactive, other than my tingle-rings, which are not as convenient as an extra sensory perception... to utilize." Tingle-rings? Yes. It's a thing.

"There is never an end to when people can surprise you, I swear. And by the by, I want my own toothbrush in Lux."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The speech, of sorts, that Lucifer offers in regards to his identity is one that Mercy listens to, and attentively, at that. But not only does she listen, she believes it. She had sensed that there wasn't quite the ordinary in him, that he was something... other. And so, after a moment of consideration for what he's just shared, for what he's said, Mercy gives a small nod. Supernatural things aren't exactly surprises for her, anymore. "There is no need for a confession to be offered or given, but... it's appreciated. And I can accept it," she says, her tone thoughtful. After all, if she has faith in God existing then doesn't it stand to reason that the Lord of Hell exists too?

She looks to Giles, and she gives a nod to him, quirking a bit of a grin. "Experimenting with anything can blow up in your face. It doesn't have to be magic to be dangerous," Mercy comments, sounding a touch amused. Then she tilts her head to one side. "It went straight to voicemail, so wherever it is, it's dead. I can help you look for it later, if you like?" she offers. She glances to Lucifer for a moment, then back to Giles, and she lifts one of her shoulders in a faint shrug. "Stubborn, I am. But... it's better for the car, and it's safer for me and anyone else that ends up a passenger in the car, and those are important things to consider, too," she comments, giving a nod to him.

Mercy tilts her head a little to one side as she listens to the deal that he offers up, considering the terms of it as he's spoken them. Her gaze turns briefly to Giles for a moment, a smile quirking at the corners of her lips, and then she turns her attention back to Lucifer. Does Mercy know how to dance? She might not! But it's a promise of good company, delicious food and drinks, and doing something differet. And so, Mercy gives a nod. She extends her right hand towards Lucifer. "We have a deal," she agrees.

Lucifer has posed:
All things set before him in such a way, Lucifer does as he often sometimes will and works backwards through things. He turns more towards Mercy and extends his hand out to shake hers. Nothing happens. No bursting hellfire, or crashes of thunder, just a handshake. "Good. Just let me know. I've left my card." He smiles then before turning back to Giles.

"Ah...four dragon's teeth, if that's not going to be a terrible amount to try and acquire. I'll gladly pay for them up front of course, and if there's any extra cost in trying to acquire them, I'll pad the cost once they're acquired." This much is offered more as he watches how carefully Giles handles the herbs and stones. Such a thing is surely appreciated.

Then, it comes down to another question that was asked. How do his wings look? "As for my wings... it depends on the inner view of myself. If I'm okay with myself... then they're angelic. Otherwise, leathery, batlike and black." He smirks, and then he steps back a single step, acts like he's cracking his neck and then concentrates a moment. In moments breath, a dual pair of angelic white wings, bright and vibrant white, protrude from his back and flare out just a bit - but in no way to where they'll knock anything over cause Lucifer is - at least - careful. "Ah. White. As I actually hoped... though I suppose if I =wanted= to appear as most depict me I could. Still...do you have a box? Like a safekeep type of box?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles raises a brow at Wessex, but doesn't ask what had been told. It's obvious he's curious, though. He shakes his head at the good doctor. "I wasn't talking to you about bad intentions that time," he says with a smile. No, that had all been for Lucifer. In that moment, at least. "But you are right. Never know if you don't try. And hey, the tingle-rings are fun. Not as convenient, and more convenient at the same time, actually. Sometimes you can get sensory overload."

A solemn nod is offered to Mercy. "Yes, but with magic, when it blows up in your face, it can affect more than just you," he says. His tone is just as solemn as his nod had been. He nods about the cellphone too. "I'd appreciate it. Maybe I ought to do something so I stop losing it. Or make it easier to find. Hmm.." He's likely thinking scent here, for finding it easier. Or maybe a spell, but probably not given how he feels about using too much magic.

Giles watches quietly as the deal is struck, his hands finishing the bagging of Lucifer's things. Each thing had been handled with care. The herbs and stones had been each packaged seperately to prevent mixing, and damage. Then he reaches for a notepad and notes down dragons' teeth, and the amount requested. Four. "When they arrive is soon enough for payment." He rings up the total and it flashes across the side of the register facing Lucifer so he can see the current cost. "I don't usually charge up front. Even if someone orders and decides they don't need the things, I can always sell them on."

The information about his wings gains a smile. "That's neat," he says. Giles looks properly interested at the sight of the wings. "Beautiful wings." He sounds appreciative. He nods at the question. "I do, yes. It's spell warded too."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister had been at Lucifer's elbow up until Dramatic Gestures occured. He'd stepped aside so that there was space, now he's stepping right back, with an amused look of understanding with a small, coy smile directed at the counter where his gaze is aimed. The hand strays beneath the cover of wings and plays with the end of a couple of pinions, brushing along the lengths of their shafts, sidelong, then down in a stroke.

To Giles, whilst still gazing at the counter "I just want to make sure I do not rely upon one thing alone. In my life, I have discovered the hard way at times, that being reliant on solely one thing to come through for you, is not a wise way to live. It leads to disappointment, then anger, then frustration... etcetera, etcetera," his free hand searches for his wallet, extracting it and flipping open, to pay for his purchase thereafter. He glances at Lucifer, then finally looks Giles in the eye. "I suspect your phone is in your jacket pocket, on silent mode, or powered off. It's where you routinely let it carry, when I've seen you. The weight is a give-away. But I suppose it might have been left on your counter. My bet," because he can see thoughts of earlier, through a chain of events and the hunt through the mind of earlier "...is in the jacket."

Pause "They're quite magnificent," looking back at Lucifer there... and at the wings, of course. "Which I think should surprise precisely nobody."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
There's a smile that tugs at her lips as she shakes Lucifer's hand, and then she gives a nod to him. There isn't anything untoward that happens, and she doesn't attempt to turn it into anything, either. "I'll let you know," she affirms. She reaches out to pluck up the card, reading it once before she tucks it into a back pocket of her shorts. It'll likely end up as a picture on her cellphone for safer keeping.

Mercy tilts her head a bit to one side as she watches Lucifer then when he manifests his wings, and one of her eyebrows quirks up just a touch. And she takes a moment to look over the wings, admiring them. It's not every day that one gets to see an angel's wings, and her gaze lingers on them for a long moment. "They're beautiful," she says softly, giving a small nod. She doesn't reach out to try to touch them at all, behaving herself. She picks up her mug of tea and takes a sip of the lukewarm brew, not seeming to mind that it's cooler.

Her gaze turns to Giles, and she tilts her head a little to one side. "Well, since you keep misplacing it, you could always put a bit of something like eucalyptus oil or peppermint oil on it, and then so long as it doesn't end up getting washed off, I'll be able to find it for you," she offers with a smile. Then she lifts a hand, brushing one of her braids back over her shoulder. "I imagine so. You don't have to worry about me causing any kind of explosions of the magic variety, at least. I can't do spells and the like," she comments. Her magic is... different, and divine in nature.

Lucifer has posed:
There's a moment of silence from Lucifer, and a certain look that smooths over his face when Sinister begins to trace his hands over the plummage of feathers. The wings ruffle for a moment at the attention that they're being given and the owner of the wings gives a soft sigh. At all the compliments to his wings, Lucifer gives a soft chuckle and then an inclination of his head. "I appreciate it. They are quite lovely. Of course, this only one part of what I can show...but I suspect it is likely the most that I should show at this time."

When Giles mentions that he does have a box, and the specifications of that box, there's another nod of his head. "Well, if you happen to have an interest in holding a few things more in this box of yours, then I would actually be inclined to part ways with them..." Even before Giles can say yes or no to the idea, Lucifer shifts a wing not being given Sinister-ly attentions, bringing it closer around his front so he can pluck a few feathers away.

"These feathers hold healing properties that far out do any healer's ability or what can be acquired at a hospital. If one is ailing, even nearer to death's door, holding and concentrating on one of these wings will heal that person immediately and fully." He explains. The wing that Sinister has been giving attention to shifts to wrap around the other man in a wing-hug. A closer hand will also reach to touch against Sinister's arm. "Ah, right. I suppose I should pay for these items..." A chuckle then as he moves to pull his wallet from his back pocket to product a credit card. "You do accept cards, yes?"

Rupert Giles has posed:
"It's a smart idea to never rely only upon one thing," agrees Giles, nodding as he speaks. "It's too easy to get stuck in that one thing and then you become predictable." He blinks and slides from behind the counter, briefly, to go into the back and the coat rack there. That's where his jacket is hanging. He checks the pockets and then returns, shaking his head. "Not in the jacket, sadly. Has to be at home. Either on the kitchen counter or wherever I left it sitting last night." It likely didn't even get put in the charger.

He moves back behind the counter again, and looks anew at the magnificent wings on display. "They really are," he agrees. He glances to Mercy at her suggestion of eucalyptus or peppermint being put on it. "Eucalyptus might be better. I eat peppermints sometimes." He nods about Mercy not being able to cause magical explosions. That does set Giles' mind at ease somewhat.

His attention already mostly on Lucifer and those wings, he looks curiously at the Devil's words of parting ways with something. Sometimes Giles is very observant. Sometimes he's oblivious. In this case, he seems to be leaning more toward the oblivious end of things, for he doesn't seem to understand what the fallen angel is referring to. He does look at the plucked feathers, though there is a wince. That can't have been comfortable, pulling the feathers like that. "Does the ailing person hold the feather and concentrate, or does someone hold the feather and concentrate on their behalf?" He sounds curious. And still doesn't seem to get what's going on here.

Then thought tracks are changed, back to merchandise and sales and Giles stares for a moment. "Uh?" Then blinks and smiles. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes we do. Accept cards, that is." Distracted by thoughts of feathers and be-dressified Mercies, no doubt.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister watches the reaction, looking a little sly, then simply pleased, stilling contact for a moment where there is a necessity to observe a very meaningful transaction, at least from his perspective. He watches Lucifer's profile as the archangel removes those fluffy white things, snorting a single sound of amusement at the commnent upon which displays will NOT be being had in this particular encounter. His eyes also glance upward as the wing he was tracing fondly lifts up and then encircles him. He fleetingly looks profoundly touched, schools his features and instead reaches the fingers that had done the featherfondle to the ones that reached to touch his arm. Contact is made and he steals the fingertips by scissoring them with his own.

But Giles' obliviousness? That is met with a soft clearing of his throat. "He's gifting them to you, Giles. No strings attached-- which I believe is his way of saying thank you, though I wouldn't dare to put words in his mouth. He has plenty of them that are perfectly appropriate without my ha'penny bit of opinion."

He leans back against the arch of feather and flesh, closing his eyes as a hundred dollar bill floats free of his wallet and lands upon the counter, followed by a fifty which floats and hangs there, flitting itself in a strangely questioning dance of monetary exchange.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Shifting her weight slightly, Mercy lifts her mug of tea in order to finish the last of it before settling the mug to the counter. For the moment, the woman-coyote is quiet, watching and listening to the conversation as it flows. One of her eyebrows quirks up slightly when Lucifer plucks those few feathers, and she tilts her head a little bit to one side. She blinks, and a flicker of surprise shows in her brown eyes at the explanation that he's given for the feathers, as well as how to use them. "That's quite amazing, what they can do," she says softly, duly impressed. "Though hopefully they won't need to be used anytime soon," she adds in a softer tone. People being hurt and needing that sort of healing does not make for particularly happy thoughts.

"Mm, that's true. Yeah, eucalyptus might be better, then. Once it's been tracked down to start with, anyways," Mercy comments, a hint of amusement coming to her voice. "Maybe you need a case that'll hold the phone at your waist so that it's less likely to be sat down and left somewhere," she muses, a thoughtful tone coming to her voice.

Her gaze flicks over to Sinister as he voices his opinion on things. It's an extremely generous gift. There's a brief look towards Giles, and she takes one of the brownies from the container she had brought, contentedly nomming on it. She is, at least, more settled than when she'd first arrived, but that doesn't change the fact that chocolate is delicious.

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah, to touch on something earlier, I do promise to keep Nicholas as protected as I can. I cannot, however, be held accountable for anything he experiments with while I am not around..." Or at least, this is what he says. Lucifer might be able to do something about knowing or not knowing when things are happening, but at the very least he will try to set Giles' mind at east with knowing Nicholas won't be able to do much that is /too/ stupid. Maybe.

Or they'll just do the really stupid together. Who knows!

"And yes. These feathers are a gift. You are the Watcher. You help the Slayer. And Miss Rosenburg, and Miss Mercy here, plus yourself. The one ailing needs to hold it, but I suspect the feathers will know they're being held by an ailing person and would work with even a little concentration. Just in case the ailing one can't quite..." He considers. "Focus." A pause. "Nothing is needed for them, or owed by their usage. I simply...am feeling compelled to actually do a true good deed." Which may, or may not, be a rare thing for the winged man.

It's a good thing that Sinister has laced fingers with Lucifer's own, because after a moment, the wings will actually disappear back from where they came. Then he offers his card to Giles in order to pay for the herbs and stones he's purchasing. "In my millenia of existing, it is not common for me to pluck and gift my feathers...more they have mostly been collected if and when they fall on their own. Still...I hope they never are needed, but at least you have them if such a time occurs."

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles blinks stupidly at Wessex. "What?" He looks from the doctor to the archangel, back to the doctor, and back to Lucifer. His mouth opens, and closes, opens, and closes again. "I.." clearly don't know what to say! He swallows once and nods. About words. He doesn't even seem to notice the doctor's money floating over for the book. But proves that he does when he speaks. "It's not a first edition. It's only seventy-five." His voice is soft and a little bit on the shocked side of things.

He nods his agreement with Mercy's words, about the feathers not being needed anytime soon. However, with Giles having a tendency to get knocked on the head or otherwise injured... he has no illusions that those feathers will likely be needed sooner, rather than later. He smiles faintly to Mercy. "That's assuming I remember to clip it to my belt in the first place." Which is the absolute truth!

Finally, with a quiet clearing of his throat, Giles accepts those feathers. "These are priceless and may save a life that will otherwise be lost," he says. "Thank you, Lucifer. You have given me a gift that I have no ability to repay. If I can ever do anything for you, you have but to ask." The brownie had been quite forgotten, still held in his left hand.

There's also a belated nod at doing what he can to prevent extreme stupid with experimentation. Giles holds up the feathers in a 'hold a moment' gesture, and stuffs the brownie into his mouth, what's left of it, as he takes himself to the back and the box there. He's only gone a few minutes before returning, sans feathers, and sans brownie. "Right. Where were we? Oh yes." He then takes the offered card and runs it through the til. The transaction is complete, a receipt produced for those items as well as Wessex's book, and the change slide across toward the doctor and the fallen angel.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister inclines his head, taking the due process of cash transaction in stride -- the change is made and all unused bills slide themselves back into his wallet with care and due attention, glancing back over his shoulder at the lack of warmth that he feels there, as the wings have disappeared. His wallet returns to the pocket it came from and he inclines his head with it. "Thank you," to Giles, he tucks the book beneath his arm and looks between shopkeeper and mechanic.

"Please do give me a call or a buzz, when you are ready to work on the Rabbit. Also, when you need me as protection, for our ongoing issues." Punctuating that with a nod that says very firmly 'and don't forget me'. He then tilts his head at Lucifer. "Shall we then? I am desperately curious as to what you got all those ingredients for..."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy tilts her head a touch to one side as the promise is offered by Lucifer, and her nose gives a slight brief twitch before she gives a small nod. It's a fair promise, or so she figures, and her sensitive nose detects naught awry with it. She finishes off the brownie, and then she licks any lingering frosting from her fingers. Her tongue flicks out, lightly brushing over her lips to catch any stray crumbs from the brownie.

She had been mentioned in those that Giles helps, and so... she feels a certain need to add her voice. "Thank you, Lucifer. It's a very generous gift to make," she says softly, her tone both solemn and... reverent, perhaps. Supernatural creatures have a way of being unpredictable sometimes, and that sometimes includes the giving of gifts.

Mercy can't help but to chuckle at Giles's words about the cell phone, and she gives a nod to him, her brown eyes showing a sparkle to them. "Mmhmm, providing that. Though maybe you just need a reminder or a nudge to do it," she says, the corners of her lips quirking a little bit. She can nudge, after all. Her gaze follows Giles when he heads for the back, until he's out of sight, yet her gaze lingers in that direction even so. And her expression brightens when he returns, watching him as he does come back. She doesn't watch too closely as the business is finished up with, keeping herself out of the way.

Her attention turns to Sinister when his words address her Rabbit, and she gives a nod to him. "Mmhmm, I'll make sure that you know when things are ready," she says with a smile, her tone grateful. If their efforts are fruitful, well... the resurrection of the Rabbit may well be deserving of at least a cake in celebration. And she might not have to live on rabbits in the meanwhile.

Lucifer has posed:
"We'll see. I will surely keep that in mind, but I am not holding anything over your head in regards to them." Lucifer offers and then the transaction of his other items is completed. Card goes back into wallet, wallet into pocket and then he takes the bag of purchased items. "It surely is my pleasure. I look forward to hearing from you both...in all regards. And you don't have to wait to fulfill a debt to come to the club. You both are always welcome."

Then his attention turns towards Sinister and he smirks. "I'm fairly certain I piqued your curiosity the moment I actually dared to pick out some things. I suppose I can quell such a thing...soon." This and a smirk before he nods. "But yes, I believe all of our business here is done? We should leave them in peace..." A squeeze of that held hand given as he makes his way for the exit. "I hope you both have a lovely rest of your day." Offered as a final farewell gesture before he exits stage left, front door side.

Rupert Giles has posed:
Giles inclines his head to Wessex. "You're welcome," he says. He nods at the reminder of ongoing issues. They are ongoing, and he will certainly do so. At least, if he has rememered his phone and it's charged at the time! If Giles is curious about the ingredients, he isn't talking. Then again, in his line of work, he probably already knows what all of that is for.

While the Watcher is familiar with supernatural creatures and their habit of being unpredictable to a degree, this might well be the first time he's ever received such a gift as those feathers. Not having to live on rabbits is a good thing. Of course, Giles would never permit such a thing... if he happened to be aware of it at the time.

Giles smiles to Lucifer, and nods. "I know." He leaves the statement standing as he'd spoken it. It was a kindness, at the very least, that he'd never be able to repay. "I doubt you could keep me entirely away from the club. Whenever I fancy fish and chips, at the very least," he says with another smile. "Take care, both of you. And we'll see you soon."