Saints and Lizards and Lemonade

It was hot -- not uncomfortably so, just hot enough to make the breeze coming off the ocean feel really, really good. Lucifer adjusted his hat to keep the shade on his book, and thought briefly about sending a minion for more lemonade.

"Oi, Lucifer!"

He glanced up, mildly annoyed at being interupted, but not so much that he needed to work up the effort to glare. "What do you want?"

Michael gave him a raised eyebrow -- probably not expecting him to be grumpy on such a nice day or something. He sat down on the sand beside him, and flipped open his schedule book.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're--"

"Look, I just want to get this finished. I've got the party down for Friday, and the trip to the Outer Hebrides planned for next weekend. We've got the Rise and Fall of Rome to tend to -- but you still haven't told me when you wanna get together for lunch."

Lucifer sighed. "Why do we have to plan everything? Can't we just... you know. Whenever?"

Michael gave him a dry look. "That's why we haven't got together for two thousand years. There is no 'whenever'. Look, just give me a century and I'll pick a day."

"Fourth," Lucifer said breezily.

"Chinese calendar, Mayan, Julian...?"

Luicfer yawned, didn't bother trying to hide it. He'd been sitting here long enough that it was time for a good, long doze. He'd been hoping to finish his chapter first, but did Michael ever think about that sort of thing?

"You said you'd have lunch with me," Michael said, and dear god but he sounded like a little boy about to pout. Again.

"I will. I promise. I just don't want to talk about it right *now*. Why don't you grab a towel and sunbathe with me and we'll have lunch some time."

Michael didn't move to do so, even though Lucifer knew it was a perfectly splendid idea. He sighed, and was about to try some other concession that didn't involve thinking about the future -- and scheduling it down to the very year -- when a handful of sand hit him in the face.

He sputtered, sitting up fast. "What the--"

Another handful of sand hit him, and he rolled off his towel and lunged at Michael. Michael seemed to have been expecting it; Michael caught him and they went tumbling backwards. Lucifer tried to get a grip on Michael's arms, while Michael was grabbing up more handfuls of sand and tossing them at him. The fact that their proximity made half of the sand hit Michael as well didn't appear to bother him.

They wrestled for awhile, alternating between trying to hold each other's arms out of the way, and trying to throw more sand. No one seemed to be winning, until all of a sudden Lucifer felt his back hit the edge of the water.

He reached out and his hand splashed. He did it again with better aim, and water flew up and hit Michael in the face.

That was when the really big wave crashed over them both.

When Lucifer was able to crawl onto shore, shaking the water out of his ears and glad he didn't have to breathe because otherwise he'd have lungfulls of water, he looked over and saw Michael on the beach ahead of him. Michael looked equally drowned as he felt.

"You cheated," Michael accused.

"What? That wasn't me!"

Michael didn't look like he believed him, scrambling to his feet and ready to start again.

"Do I have to separate you two?" Gabriel said, from higher up the beach where the sand was dry.

"What'd we do?" Lucifer demanded.

"You've been told not to do that sort of thing where they can see!" Gabriel pointed over her shoulder at the beach's edge. There was a row of short hedges there, where Momma's grandkids were playing. They could peer through the bushes and see the beach -- not clearly, but well enough that they'd all been warned about certain... behaviors in public.

Michaal had spent a century complaining, until it was pointed out that he and Rafeal could still have sex in the cabana.

"So? We barely touched each other," Lucifer pointed out. "And it was his fault. He started it."

"Yes," Gabriel said -- thought not because she agreed with him, he could tell from her tone. "And would you care to explain the stories they're telling now? You know they've all got wild imaginations. Two minutes later and the entire playground is full of 'battling dragon' tales."

"Who wins?" Michael asked, brightly. Lucifer thumped him in the stomach. Michael glared.

"Is that all you care about?"

"Like you weren't thinking it, too."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was--"

Lucifer was surprised. He hadn't thought waves could reach this far up the beach. When he and Michael had crawled to shore again, Gabriel was nowhere to be found -- nor was Lucifer's book, towel, or lemonade glass.