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Hark! The herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on Earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.
“Bloody hell! Do they ever stop singing my Father’s praises?! If they only knew the real Him... how much of an unholy prick He is... they wouldn’t waste their breath!”
Lucifer harshly muttered and winced as the children’s chorus guilelessly delved deeper into the traditional verse, only pausing his tirade at his girlfriend’s equally harsh shushing.
“Lucifer!”
But how could he let such an abomination go unchallenged?
Joyful, all ye nations rise,
Join the triumph of the skies.
With th’ angelic host proclaim,
Christ is born in Bethlehem!
Intolerable! Now they were calling upon the entire wanking Host?! The last thing he bloody well needed right now was an infestation of his imbecilic siblings!
Ever attuned to her boyfriend’s traumatic issues with his family, Chloe gently squeezed his forearm, feeling his wool and silk-clad muscles taut with tension. Worry quickly replaced her earlier annoyance. She could only guess that his eyes were turning a not-so festive shade of crimson about now.
“Lucifer... babe... not here. It’s just singing... they’re only just songs.”
The Devil took a deep breath, trying — and miserably failing — to quell his temper, as he squirmed in his tortuously intolerable metal chair. The drafty auditorium, still smelling nauseatingly of gym socks and sweaty sneakers after the middle school’s basketball game the prior evening, only added to his stomach’s — and eyes’ — churning.
Turning back to Chloe, he made it clear that his discomfort was about more than mere melodies and pungent odors.
“They are singing carols of worship and praise to Someone who we both clearly know doesn’t deserve a literal measure of it. How are you not offended by that injustice, Detective??”
Then, as an afterthought, he added, “And isn’t there some kind of law these days about mixing church and state? This is a public school, after all.”
Chloe sighed and shrugged under the weight of her boyfriend’s legitimate ire. A law? Probably... technically... there was one on the books somewhere. Besides in the First Amendment, of course. But there were just so many bigger fish to fry out there. So many other pressing issues in the world that a few religious carols — Christmas carols memorializing a real-life baby, she now knew — just seemed too insignificant to stage a protest over.
It wasn’t as if they were a lie per se, even if they did stretch the truth more than a bit.
She squeezed Lucifer’s arm again and whispered back, deeply sympathetic with his distress. After all, he wasn’t wrong... either about his Dad, or about how His followers had interwoven — sometimes insidiously, but more often unwittingly — worship to Him into the fabric of contemporary humanity’s daily lives.
Throwback to a more religious past that it was, it still didn’t make it harmless. But the overlay of religious and cultural rituals was unlikely to be disentangled any time soon.
And not by them this evening, listening to Trixie’s Holly Daze ensemble winter concert. Though Chloe doubted she could convince the man seated next to her of that.
“Yeah, you’re right, but at this point that manger has clearly sailed.”
Lucifer looked askance at her odd interpretation of the idiom — a manger and a ship clearly had little in common! — as he paid painful attention to the first strains of the next carol that Trixie’s sixth-grade class was currently butchering. If he had to listen to this blasphemous drivel, couldn’t they at least learn to harmonize properly??
Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head.
The stars in the bright sky looked down where He lay,
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
Lucifer grumbled under his breath, finding new offense in the oft-treasured nativity lullaby.
“Now they’re calling upon the stars — my stars, Detective! — as if those precious sparks of my divinity would ever demean themselves to babysit my Father’s ‘precious’ demigod!”
Chloe nudged him in the ribs, clearly not wanting to have this conversation in the middle of the crowded auditorium. It was only their more remote location, sitting in the overflow seating of the auditorium — thanks to being late for the concert because of an uncooperative witness — that prevented them from being the target of others’ irritated shushing. In no way did she begrudge Lucifer his frustration and anger, though truth be told she felt rather sorry for baby Jesus, knowing what eventually happened to him later in life. From one Miracle to another, she could definitely admit that being in the Almighty’s crosshairs stank to literal high Heaven. But there was a time and a place for her and God’s devilishly wayward son to commiserate on the many ways that the Most High had fucked over his creation... especially His own children... and now was definitely not it!
“Lucifer, this is Trixie’s first holiday concert in her new school... can we just sit back and enjoy it... please? For her sake??”
He doubted this would have happened had the Detective listened to him and enrolled the spawn in that exclusive private academy whose principal had owed him a favor. Instead of being tortured by sycophantic lyrics clearly pandering to the Almighty’s massive ego, he might have been at this moment enjoying a nice, mulled wine by the penthouse’s cozy fireplace. A quick glance at his girlfriend, however, confirmed that he was alone in that sentiment. Still peeved — but not altogether surprised — that his girlfriend had played the ‘urchin card’, Lucifer slunk back into the cold, hard chair and bemoaned that he had already earlier emptied his flask to the final refrain of Joy to the World.
God only knows, he chuckled softly to himself, that that Lord had never come!
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“So, you don’t like any Christmas carols, Lucifer?”
Trixie knew better than to take her friend’s prickly demeanor to heart. After all, if she had a dad like Lucifer’s, she wouldn’t want to be singing his praises either. While she could admit that her own dad wasn’t perfect by any means — too many missed Taco Tuesdays and vainly promised father-daughter outings had taken their toll on her through the years — she still knew, without any doubt, that her dad deeply loved her. And wanted the best for her.
Always.
But Him??
Well, Trixie supposed that an all-powerful and immortal God should have learned by now how to be a better Father. He had had enough time to practice at it, after all. Especially to be a good Dad to a son who was as amazing as Lucifer was!
Still... to not like Christmas carols?!
“Not even the ones that sing about snow, Lucifer?”
The Devil paused and turned off the stand mixer; the butter fully creamed — no lewd pun intended this time — into the sugar and vanilla. Making cut-out cookies with Chloe’s delightfully impish pre-teen daughter was not the absolute worse way to spend a Sunday afternoon while her mum was finishing her gift buying. Especially if he could sneak a few anatomically-enhanced NSFW shapes past the youngster’s eagle eye. Maze would find them hilarious, after all, in her stocking.
And useful, too.
In all the best ways.
Ah, but the child was still awaiting an answer, wasn’t she?
“Well, Beatrice, I’m more apt to agree that the miserably cold and wet stuff is more frightful than delightful, as the song goes. So, no, I do not want to Let it Snow. And if that frosted snowman is jolly at all, I’m sure it has more to do with what he recently imbibed than the state of his happiness or his soul.”
The disappointed look on the girl’s face — did she really care that dearly for the corncob pipe fellow? — tugged at the Devil in ways he didn’t really want to examine. At least not with his hands covered in the flour that had just assaulted him as the new bag unexpectedly ripped open on the countertop as he refilled the canister. Leave it to the Detective to buy the cheapest generic brand with its slipshod packaging! Not even his Kiss the Cook apron could save his waistcoat and trousers from their now necessary, but sadly premature, trip to the dry cleaners!
Lucifer sighed, glancing at the girl again, realizing he needed to offer the offspring more than wit or snark in reply to her heartfelt question.
“But... I do have to admit, Urchin, that the rich and mellow tones of Nat King Cole — Lucifer was forcibly mentally restraining himself from saying anything about chestnuts — as well as the lovely soft vocals of Ella Fitzgerald and the huskier ones of Rosemary Clooney do call out to the musician and impresario in me. Such wonderfully understated stage presence in all of them! And I have... on occasion... been known to perform my own arrangement of that crooner’s classic, White Christmas. Though humanity’s absurd insistence to associate frozen water with my half-brother’s birth in the arid climate of the Middle East is altogether historically mindboggling!”
Trixie frowned. She didn’t recognize any of the names he mentioned — and personally, she really liked the rare times in her life that she had seen more than an inch or two of the fluffy wet stuff — but she did enjoy the movie, White Christmas. It was free on all the streaming services every year at this time, and she especially loved the part where the two silly guys danced with feathery blue fans and sang about being sisters!
It was hilarious!
But it probably didn’t count as a Christmas carol. Not even a single mention of an angel in it.
Hmm... that started her wondering.
“Is it that the songs make you homesick? For being an angel?”
Lucifer nearly tripped over his own feet hearing her words, as he placed the batch of dough in the refrigerator to chill. He turned around to face the girl, his own face a study in utter perplexity. He could barely choke out his confusion.
“Why... I mean, what about... me ... would ever make you think such a thing, child? You know... you must know by now... how I feel about my Dad... and my siblings... yes??”
Trixie bit her lip, realizing she had probably crossed some unspoken boundary between them. She and Lucifer didn’t usually have such deep conversations these days, though it wasn’t exactly as carefree as it had been when she was a little kid either. Things had changed somewhat since Lucifer and her mom had started dating several months ago. It was as if neither child nor Devil was quite sure if he was still just a friend or something more quietly and informally akin to a... stepdad. Frankly, Trixie wasn’t sure why he couldn’t be both, but she wasn’t sure either of them — Lucifer especially — was really ready for that conversation yet.
It might take an eventual ‘deal with the Devil’ to sort it all out. Or another trip to Doctor Linda’s house. Hopefully there was more ice cream involved. All a problem for another day. Now, she had to tread gingerly.
“I do... kinda. I mean, I know he hurt you a lot. And you didn’t deserve that.”
At her friend’s uncertain shrug, the girl double downed.
“You didn’t, Lucifer! Even if you disobeyed Him, you yourself told me that you weren’t much more than a teenager when you Fell. In human years, that is. I mean, do you think my dad would disown me and throw me out of the house if I start flipping him off a few years from now?”
Lucifer was appalled!
“Certainly not, spawn! Daniel may leave some things to be desired in the fatherhood department, but he loves you truly and with his whole heart. Never doubt that, Beatrice. He would rather die than see any harm befall you, least of all by his own hand!”
Trixie nodded. She never doubted that.
“I know that, too. But if I wouldn’t deserve it, even if I were being somewhat of a brat to him, then why do you think that you deserved it? If your Dad is God, shouldn’t He be at least as kick-ass as my dad is with all his human faults? Otherwise, what’s the point of being God?”
Out of the mouths of babes...
Lucifer’s mind stuttered, and he was clearly at a loss to reply. The child wasn’t wrong... not by a longshot. His Father’s claim to omnibenevolence notwithstanding, God’s track record as a loving Dad miserably paled alongside many, if not most, of his more human counterparts. He definitely would never be winning any Father of the Year awards!
Lucifer’s mind continued rambling around, lost in eons of painful memories, as Trixie read the room — and her increasingly jittery friend. She knew a dramatic shift in mood was quickly needed... so she decided to erupt into a boisterously silly giggle.
That shook the Devil loose from his meandering thoughts, as she knew it would.
“Urchin? Are you quite well? Do you need a doctor?”
Her plan was working perfectly!
“No, silly! I just thought of your favorite carol, that’s all!”
Lucifer sighed, grateful that the child was not truly in distress or injured, but more confused than ever at the inner workings of the young miscreant’s mind.
“And what, pray tell, is that, my dear spawn?”
With a wide grin blooming across her face — she was a dear spawn now, huh? — Trixie proudly answered him.
“I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, of course!”
Well, that was as clear as mud to the Devil, as the mischievous girl beckoned him closer and whispered, “Here’s the plan. First, we find a red Santa hat and coat for you... and then tonight after dinner you hide behind the Christmas tree...”
The Devil’s grin matched the conniving girl’s own as the two friends quickly hashed out their plan for a Christmas Eve surprise for one nauseatingly selfless, but unsuspecting, girlfriend.
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“Babes in Toyland?”
Dinner long done and an overwound Trixie in bed, Chloe took up the task of finding the Devil’s favorite Christmas carol. An insurmountable mission, he had warned her after going a few rounds with her daughter earlier in the day, but one which was oddly important to both Trixie and her.
Could this be it?
“Do you know this song, Lucifer?”
“I do, Detective, but that title could refer to something much kinkier than I think you had in mind, darling! If you ever want to go that route, I would be more than happy to oblige.”
Chloe should have expected that! Moving right along.
“I assume O Come, All Ye Faithful and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen are nonstarters, huh?”
Lucifer took a deep breath in, then slowly exhaled... trying to remember that this whatever it was was supposed to be fun.
“You assume rightly, my dear. Try again.”
“How about You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch? No God-stuff or angels or hosannas.”
That’s safe, right?
Lucifer disagreed.
“Well, I’ll grant you the lyrics were impeccably written, and the deep, rich bass of Thurl Ravenscroft was literally unsurpassable in its magnificence, but... no. You have no idea how many hell-loops there are with creepy grinches — nasty wasty skunks, indeed! — reliving sick Cindy Lou Who fantasies!”
“Eww, Lucifer! Now you’ve gone and ruined my favorite holiday special for me!”
“Sorry, darling. That was not my intent and all my apologies to Mr. Karloff’s superb narration. It was merely to explain why I harbor no great love for either that character or that song.”
Chloe squirmed under the blanket throw, still trying to chase the creepy vibes away.
“Just don’t say anything about that to Trixie, okay? I don’t want to ruin one of her favorites for her.”
Lucifer chuckled as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, reassuring her that she was far and away from any of those particularly vile grinches.
“You have my word, love. Now... anymore Christmas ditties you wish to pitch my way? I assure you, I can knock down all of them.”
“Ding Dong Merrily on High? I remember that was always one of my mom’s favorites.”
The Devil’s playfully leering expression elicited a groan from her. Of course, he would immediately go there!
“Okay, yeah... I kinda walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
Lucifer chuckled, a good-natured grin quickly replacing the playful leer.
“You did, my love. And while it is an absolutely, perfectly naughty title to clinch the Devil’s top spot, the overabundance of glorias in it make it a hard ‘no’. Sorry to disappoint.”
Chloe chucked in return; she should have figured that. Time to try another one.
“Good King Wenceslaus, then?”
“He was a duke, not a king, and assassinated by his own brother! No, thank you; rather too on the nose, I’d say! I wonder if the bastard’s name was also Michael??”
Ouch, Chloe thought... were Christmas songs like fairy tales? Meaning you don’t want to look too closely at the history behind them! Knowing Lucifer’s unwavering insistence on informed consent, she’d just skip mentioning Baby, It’s Cold Outside!
Maybe stick with the tried-and-true ones? The kind that she and her dad used to sing while decorating the family tree.
“How about Silent Night?”
Lucifer’s loud guffaws echoed in the room and threatened to wake Trixie.
“Round yon virgin?? Please, darling... you of all ‘miracles’ know how my Dad pulls that one off! She was no more uninitiated in that respect than your own mother was. It was a simple blessing, nothing more... though perhaps with a larger infusion of divinity to give Yeshua a bit more celestial oompf! Enough, at least, to count him as a half-brother. Though Gabe did the honors on that one instead of Amenadiel. But Miriam? A lovely woman by all accounts — never met her personally myself — but a virgin?? Nope! Next?”
Okay, so maybe not anything headlining Mary, then.
“I’ll Be Home for Christmas?”
“Already here, darling.” He tugged her in more closely under his arm. “Home is simply wherever you are. No traveling... or sappy Perry Como tune... needed. Got another for me?”
“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree? You must play that one at Lux all the time over the holiday, right?”
“I do, actually. Or rather, the DJ does after I’ve finished my set. Not exactly in my vocal range or style. And it is often nauseatingly overplayed, second only to that rather squealy but ubiquitous Mariah Carey ditty, whose title, I cannot lie, is spot-on for me this year. But Lee’s is indisputably a tune to pump up the adrenaline, and did you know that Brenda Lee was only thirteen years old when she recorded the song? Not much older than the urchin, in fact! Boggles the mind all that talent! But no... not something that I’d consider a favorite or especially resonating with me personally. Ready to give up, darling?”
Chloe adamantly shook her head. Nope... not at all. Out of all the hundreds — thousands?? — of songs about Christmas, there had to be one carol that really spoke to Lucifer’s dreams and wishes for the season. Something to fill him with a sense of joy... or wonder... or excitement. Chloe racked her brain trying to weed through the songs she knew, filtering out both the duds and the ‘not-quites’. And sure, there were lots that were just about snow or winter, but she was trying to find a specifically Christmas one that he might relate to. She rather realized by now that any carol that extolled either his Dad or his half-brother were likely automatically out of the running. Though they had been at it for nearly an hour already, she still wasn’t sure why it was quite so important to her. It simply made her sad that the songs that left her feeling joyful, or nostalgic, or wistful often left him cold and bitter... or at best, indifferent and jaded.
And she knew with all her heart that that was not fair to him.
“The Little Drummer Boy?”
Maybe the musician in him could relate to it? She wondered if Lucifer knew how to play the drums. By now, he was probably a master at every instrument.
Instead, her boyfriend just chuckled, as if to say, Silly ol’ Detective!
“More about crass commercialism, I think, than any drum tapping devotee on his knees in the dirt or sand. Pa rum pum pum pum. Seriously?? Though Greer Garson did a lovely job narrating the mindless pap of the telly cartoon.”
“You’ve seen it??”
“Mhmm. A bet I lost last Christmas with your devious offspring. She drove a hard bargain on that one!”
Now it was Chloe’s laugh which echoed throughout the room.
“She only learned from the best, babe!”
He couldn’t disagree with her there. Downing the last drops of whiskey in his tumbler — it had been a smooth, clean Glenfiddich tonight for the last hour of Christmas Eve — Lucifer was ready to call it a night. After all, he had — or rather, Santa had — another surprise in store for Chloe. A much more decidedly naughty version of the rather nice one he had surprised her with earlier in the evening behind the Christmas tree, to her daughter’s grinning delight. He would have to remember to put an extra hundy or two in the urchin’s stocking in the morning: a well-earned reward for her impish suggestion. But now, it was time to move the evening’s give-and-take into another room. Their bedroom, to be exact. As in him giving... and his lovely Detective enjoying herself in the taking.
With perhaps a visit to his own personal ‘toyland’ for some special holiday goodies. One would be amazed at what things were peppermint-flavored this time of year!
But before he could entice his girlfriend into fulfilling his own Christmas Eve fantasies, Chloe excitedly threw out one last song title. Why hadn’t she thought of this one earlier??
“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas???”
Chloe nearly held her breath as she awaited her boyfriend’s response.
Eager to end this game — amusing as it was — Lucifer was ready to dismiss the Meet Me in St. Louis classic out of hand. But something about the Detective’s hopeful expression gave him pause, quieting his mind for a moment. At the very least, he owed the love of his life his serious consideration of a song that she seemed to place special stock in. He silently tossed the melody and lyrics about in his head, and softly laughed... in spite of himself as the Clement Clarke Moore’s famous poem put it.
He supposed it was as close to a winner as could be for someone like him. If anyone could find a Christmas carol palatable to the Devil himself, it could only be the incomparably brilliant Chloe Jane Decker!
Perhaps it was time to humbly concede his defeat.
“Hmm... clearly the most honest and least sugar-coated of holiday tunes. The oblique reference to my half-brother in the title notwithstanding, there is little that I find objectionable there. While I have no great affinity for its nostalgic overtones of happy golden days of yore, I have learned to appreciate, in these last few years, the treasured importance of faithful friends and have become somewhat an expert myself at muddling through whatever Fate — or my Dad — has thrown at me. To be quite honest, I find the underlying melancholy of the lyrics to be rather compelling. And, as you well know, in the past I have definitely been one to make the yuletide gay... in all the delicious meanings of the word! With the lovely instrumentation and arrangement of the original score, and voiced by the impeccably talented Judy Garland at her prime? Yes, I think you may have found my favorite carol, darling! Well done, Detective! Truly, that was detectiving at its finest!”
Chloe wasn’t quite sure about that, but victory in hand, and with her own heart not feeling quite so tight, she led him to their bedroom to take something else — also deliciously warm and inviting — in hand. Remembering her boyfriend’s surprise donning of a velvet hat and coat earlier — and a searing kiss behind the Christmas tree — Chloe had no doubt that ‘Santa Claus’ would absolutely be coming tonight!
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Christmas morning found Lucifer’s penthouse in full swing. Woken at daybreak by an excited Trixie hoping to begin the present feast early, Chloe could not find it in herself to deny her monkey’s eagerness. She knew it would be only another year or two before the onslaught of the snarky and jaded teen years made every holiday a battle. She would enjoy this for as long as it lasted.
They compromised on one present each before the others arrived for brunch, since Lucifer still had to put the finishing touches on his vegetable platter. Who knew the Devil was obsessed with the Japanese culinary art of carving intricate shapes out of homely vegetables? Mukimono, he had called it, wielding a knife no less deftly than Maze did her hell-forged blades, and leaving a trail of elegantly fluted cucumbers, radish rosettes, and dragon-head carrots in its wake.
Admiring his latest creation, Lucifer found himself absentmindedly humming along with the holiday playlist Chloe had just uploaded to the penthouse’s sound system. Earworms, all of them! He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at both the Detective’s and the urchin’s insistence at finding his favorite Christmas carol. Truth be told, it was an amusing little game, and he didn’t mind playing along, as it had seemed particularly important to both his lovely Decker ladies. And he had long-ago vowed never to deny either of them anything they truly desired. And although Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas seemed to be the best of the batch, he knew that no holiday tune — no Christmas carol — could ever truly resonate with him. He was the literal God-damned Devil after all! Lord of the Underworld and Faust’s Mephistopheles. Who in their right mind would ever speak the name of the Evil Serpent and one of humanity’s most treasured holidays in the same bated breath?
It was while he was working on his last dragon-headed carrot, trying to decide between channeling an Asian or a European aesthetic, that he first heard it.
Noel, noel... Noel, noel... Noel, noel
Sing we now of Christmas, noel sing we here.
Lucifer turned the specialized knife over in his hand, staring at the vegetable as the song continued to play over the ceiling speaker. Hmm... maybe a Welsh dragon would be a nice addition to his vegetable menagerie?
Sing we noel.
The King is born... noel.
The King is born.
The King is born.
The King is born.
Noel!
Noel. Noel. The King is born. Noel. Noel.
Immersed in his carving, Lucifer’s mind wandered through the repetitive lyrics.
Noel... noel.
Noel... noel.
Noel...noel.
Irritating how these silly songs to his half-brother have become such insidious earworms. He shrugged, annoyed but long accustomed to it, while continuing his work on the Welsh dragon’s left wing. It was more modest than he would have liked, but even a well-endowed carrot only allowed an artist so much material to work with.
Noel...noel.
Noel... noel.
Noel...noel... noel... noel... noel.
Noel!!!!!!!
Lucifer was in an odd sort of mental space — focused yet distracted at the same time — as his mind was slowly lost in the traditional chorale arrangement, finding himself gradually and inescapably cloaked in the solitary repetitive word threading through both the melody and harmony lines of the piece. Excellent voicing from a musical standpoint, he judged, but definitely a song that needed a lyricist’s touch. How many bloody times were they going to repeat the same word?? Still, he couldn’t bring himself to argue with the sentiment at least. Probably the only true Christmas carol that he could agree with, he softly and absentmindedly decided.
Wait... what?!
Lucifer paused in his carving and tilted his head towards the speaker, though his impeccable celestial hearing needed no such boost. How ever had he missed the double meaning of this word?? He doubted he was the first one to ever notice the true etymology of the word — Noel — the later Latin derivation and French translation notwithstanding.
The latter syllable of the word was a Name — one that had its roots in something much older.
Someone much more ancient and eternal.
And more of a bloody pain in his own damned arse!!
But that went without saying, didn't it?
Well, I'll be damned... again! Chuckling to himself, Lucifer Morningstar felt like a literal kid on Christmas morning who had just unwrapped the best present in the world! He was all for saying Noel now! NO to EL! After all, wasn’t that what had gotten him in trouble in the first place? He didn’t want anything to do with the pompous and manipulative Bastard who he had the eternal misfortune to call Father. Gratifying how the song got his Dad’s name right for a change — while calling Him out at the same time!
El.
God’s narcissistic and egotistical eponymous imprint on all his siblings’ names.
Amenadi-el. Micha-el. Rapha-el. Gabri-el. Uri-el. Azra-el. Even his own long despised deadname of Sama-el.
They were all of Him and the bloody self-absorbed wanker had the gall to brand each one of them with His own true name.
El.
Any song that said No to El...
The small knife slipped out of Lucifer’s fingers and tumbled to the floor. Now almost gigging with the giddiness of his epiphany, Lucifer realized that all the clueless sops who had been singing this song, and every other song boasting this now glorious word, had never realized exactly what they were saying.
What a great grinchy trick!
Hah! It was like a secret codeword embedded in the carols! Known only to those astute enough to parse out its true meaning!
The First Noel?
That’s just a secret code for the first time that anyone had ever said ‘No!’ to Mr. High and Mighty!
Double hah!! That would be ME!! thought Lucifer gleefully, since no one else had ever had the balls to tell the Old Man where to shove it! That it had resulted in his own Fall and being cast down to perdition was neither here nor there for the moment.
Let the foolish humans think what they will about the songs! The Devil now knew better!
Rushing out of the kitchen loudly singing Noel, noel — his half-carved dragon carrot all but forgotten — Lucifer couldn’t wait to tell Chloe all about his new favorite song. And to hit up Google to find out how many other Christmas songs had been secretly dissing his Dad under the guise of devoted praise.
A very clever, but clearly naughty turn of the lyric... and one which Satan wholeheartedly approved of!
With all his crispy red heart!
A short time later, Lucifer couldn’t wait to share his new favorite song — and word — with everyone!
“Joyeux Noel, Brother... Doctor... Nephew! Welcome to our humble abode!”
Lucifer’s smirking face and lighthearted greeting triggered a pair of curious glances between Amenadiel and Linda.
“And to you as well, Lucifer! You’re in an uncharacteristically festive mood for a Christmas morning. I know it’s not your favorite day, to say the least. Is everything alright?”
Lucifer beamed at his dear friend and therapist, lightly flicking his homemade tinsel bow tie in response. A last-minute flourish to his velvety maroon tux coat that he broke out of storage for the occasion.
“Just enjoying the merriment of the day, my dear.”
Linda frowned. Even Amenadiel wasn’t buying it.
What’s going on, Luci? This isn’t like you. You hate Christmas. I know that things have been different since you and Chloe have been together, but I’ve never known you to be this... this...”
The Devil cut him off.
“Nonsense, Brother. Like the proverbial Scrooge in old Mr. Dickens’ fable, I have myself just recently discovered the true meaning of the holiday.”
His little brother was making even less sense than usual to the Firstborn.
“And what would that be, if I’m not too afraid to ask?”
“One simple word, O Sanctimonious One! Noel. Or rather... No-El. The word of the day and the reason for the season!”
Linda shook her head in utter confusion, gently freeing her own little angel’s arms from around his father’s neck. She could see that Charlie was becoming mesmerized by the nearly ceiling high Christmas tree and the large stack of presents next to it and knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would be squirming for a closer look. And while she had hoped to lay aside her therapist’s ‘hat’ for the day, she decided prudence dictated seeking out Chloe sooner rather than later to hopefully shed some light on the Devil’s baffling, newfound Christmas spirit. She’d never want to begrudge her dear friend and patient that joy, but she worried that it was simply masking a more traumatic response to his oft-acknowledged least wonderful time of year.
Seeing her readying to move farther into the penthouse with her son, Lucifer momentarily paused her advance with a single raised finger.
“Ah, Linda, do remember to ask the Detective about her surprise visit from St. Nick late last evening. My own quite naughty take on a very clever idea originally inspired by the urchin and one of her favorite songs. I do believe it will become the stuff of tribe legend come the next ladies’ night!”
Admittedly more curious now than she probably should be — she couldn’t help but recall how creative Lucifer could be in that particular department! — Linda just mutely nodded and shuffled onward. With Lucifer, she knew the sky was the limit as to what his cryptic words hinted at. Did that have something to do with his odd holiday cheer?
Hearing the brothers’ increasingly loud and intense voices continuing to spar behind her, however, Linda second-guessed the wisdom of leaving them to their own devices. Still, she figured two grown — and she exasperatingly used the word loosely most days when it came to either of them — angels couldn’t get themselves into too much trouble on Christmas morning... of all days.
Could they??
She should have known better...
The voices only grew more booming and insistent.
“Luci!! What the hell are you talking about?? It’s just a human Christmas carol. You speak French; you should know that!”
Rolling his eyes, the Devil figured it was time to enlighten his clueless sibling.
“Not Hell, Brother. EL!! It’s a hidden message, don’t you see that? No-el. Humans think it’s all about praising Dad, but it’s really quite the opposite! And Joyeux Noel? Well, that really means that someone is wishing you Happy No God Day!! Absolutely brilliant, isn’t it? Or is your unimaginative brain too drowned in insipidly virgin eggnog and boxed hot chocolate from Costco to understand the nuance?”
“Nuance?? They’re songs about angels and shepherds and our human brother. There’s nothing else there! And you know that Joyeux Noel just means Merry Christmas.”
“Ah... but does it, O simpleminded brother of mine? Think outside the box for once in your eternally long and boring life! It’s a hidden subliminal message dissing dear old Dad in a beloved traditional carol that millions of his devotees sing every year. What’s more, think of all the songs that has No-el in it! I don’t know how many exactly — Google was rubbish at tracking them all down — but they’re all a clear flip of the bird to the Heavenly Bastard! Isn’t it just glorious?? Perhaps we can all do a sing-along later shouting No-el to the highest Heaven! What say you, Brother? Do you think He will hear it and put coal in our stockings??”
The brothers’ excited shouts — fueled no doubt by their rather formidable, combined divinity — echoed across the penthouse, shivering and vibrating along the ceiling-high glass balcony doors. A humming, thrumming undertone to Lucifer and Chloe’s first Christmas morning as a couple.
From the other corner of the room, Chloe sighed. Not exactly the Christmas morning she had envisioned but Lucifer will always march to his own drumbeat. And, frankly, she wouldn’t have him any other way. To be fair, she had created a monster with all that ‘finding the perfect Christmas song’ nonsense yesterday... and she had no one to blame but herself! At least, her boyfriend was finally finding some joy in the holiday... even if he was desperately annoying his older brother in the process. Though, knowing Lucifer as she did, that probably made it all the more fun!
That... and flipping a tinseled bird up at his Father, of course.
Chloe uneasily glanced up, the twinkling lights from the fir tree dancing their way to the ceiling and playfully competing with the chandelier. But beyond the penthouse? God... El... whatever His name was... at this moment was somewhere up there, most likely either fuming in anger... or perhaps disinterestedly shrugging?... at his arguing sons down here. Who could tell with Him? Did He even know that Noel could be taken more than one way? Does He even care?
About any of it?
About any of them??
Or was everything on Earth just so far beneath Him that none of it — not even his own once-beloved sons’ dissecting and arguing the nuances of His own Name — even mattered a smidge in His grand scheme of things??
Shrugging at the enormity of her own questions and the likelihood that none of them would ever be answered, Chloe turned instead to greet her dear friend holding her adorable toddler son, as she heard the elevator chime to reveal Dan and Ella arriving. She knew that Maze and Eve would be only moments behind. God be damned — and she knew she might find herself in Hell one day for thinking it! — but she had better things to do with her Christmas Day than spend it thinking about Him. Reason for the season? Not by a long shot!
The real reason was all around her.
Warmth.
Family.
Friends.
Love.
It was in helping Trixie to pass out presents and cookies and in enjoying a simple meal with those she treasured most. And for the first time, she was sharing these special moments with the love of her life! And yes, she was sure that at some point there would be singing a few Christmas carols around the piano. Lucifer would no doubt playfully grumble at it but would also generously lend his immense piano skills to the task.
Each of them there had their own reasons for the season, and maybe there wasn’t a single carol that could encapsulate it all. Maybe Noel could mean two different things at the same time. Perhaps the carols don’t need to mean anything more than a person wants them to. A stirring melody. Uplifting lyrics. Heartfelt sentiments. Or... maybe she had it right earlier, when she had told Lucifer at Trixie’s concert that they’re only just songs.
Chloe shot a quick glance to Lucifer, who caught and returned it, his own eyes twinkling at her as he paused his bantering with his brother. Sharing soft smiles for their first Christmas together, and taking in all their newly arrived guests, they silently agreed it was a most perfect day. And as the combined chatter and laughter rose merrily on high, the Devil and a Miracle were sure that no angelic host ever sounded lovelier... or more holy.