Gloria almost screamed, but the man touched a finger to her lips that caused her terror to simply drain away. Despite her lack of fear at the stranger, her mind raced with conflicting and contradictory trains of thought that kept derailing and smashing into each other. She wasn't sure which of her questions to ask first, but as her mind stumbled over itself, the man simply smiled.

"Hello," he said casually, as if he'd known her for a long time and his appearance in her apartment uninvited was an expected and totally normal occurrence.

She blinked twice, caught completely off guard, and answered, "Hello."

His voice was smooth and comforting. It seemed lightly accented, but Gloria could only identify it as vaguely European. His smile was sun touched as he gently let go of her and settled her back on her own two feet. Gloria caught her breath as a teapot whistled.

"Dinner's ready," he announced.

"You made dinner?" at this point in her day, she was so deep into her state of disbelief that she was willing to accept anything.

He nodded, "You didn't have much of anything besides cheese, bread, and cokes, so I went shopping for you."

He turned and started towards the kitchenette, but she was still a bit reluctant to follow.

"You made me dinner?" she asked again, as if trying reconcile reality with the insane whirlwind of multi-colored thoughts that were having a battle royal inside her brain at the moment.

He glanced over his shoulder again and winked at her, "Well, it's more accurate to say that I made dinner for both of us. We're having crab. I hope you like it."

She had no qualms about eating the crab. She liked crab, as far as she could recollect. She vaguely recalled having eaten it once or twice before, but in her present state she was not surprised that she had difficulty remembering the circumstances.

When she finally peeked into the kitchenette, she found him tossing a salad with a pair of wooden salad tongs she did not recognize. Not only did she not recognize the tongs or greens, but she also did not recognize the bowl. She disliked vegetables and had no great like of salad, and she was quite sure she didn't own a large metal salad bowl like the one he was using.

He smiled at her again, when he caught her staring at the large bowl. He finished tossing the salad and then opened up one of her drawers, "Gloria, would you be a dear and please set the table?"

She froze, but was unwilling to be throw off balance by his mundane request this time. She was still gripping his umbrella, and she pulled it close like a security blanket before asking two questions in a half-hysterical voice, "Who are you, and where did you get that salad bowl?"

He laughed and it was clear and pleasant. He set the crab off the stove to prevent it from burning, should he be distracted, and then calmly led her out of the kitchenette and into her living room. She didn't resist, because she felt calmed whenever he touched her, so much to the extent that she almost grabbed after his hand after he had let hers go. It was a completely unfamiliar sensation.

He gestured to the battered loveseat behind her, "Perhaps you'd better have a seat."

He smiled in a very feline fashion, and she felt obliged to obey.

"Now, second things first. I bought that salad bowl, and a number of other things that I needed to make our dinner, at one of the large department stores downtown. Do you object?" he asked curiously, still smiling.

She shook her head and attempted to rationalize the situation as she waited for him to continue.

"As for your first question, I'll try to answer it as simply and as plainly as I can."

She nodded dumbly, quite sure she was ready for any answer he might give her.

"I am the fallen angel Lucifer the Light Bringer."

She was not ready for this answer, and giggled nervously in response, "You're not serious."

His smile quirked oddly for a moment, and then he replied, "I am quite serious. If today's events haven't already convinced you of this, then I have one last bit of proof. Come close to me."

She felt somewhat reluctant to go back to the madman who claimed he was Lucifer, but the memory of the security of his touch drove these thoughts out of her mind. She tentatively laid the umbrella down on the loveseat, and moved closer to him. To her disappointment, he didn't reach out and put his hand on her shoulder again, as she had hoped. Instead, he just stood there, looking at her. She was a bit put out.

"Well?" she asked curiously, peering up into his dark eyes.

Then it poked her.

It poked her midway up the shin and the poke was by no means an unpleasant sensation. It felt rather like someone had tapped her shin with the blunt end of a banana. Curious, she looked down and saw the blunt triangular tip of a sinuous green tail that disappeared somewhere behind the man's back.

Then she screamed.

She got out one long shriek before he got his finger to her lips again. She immediately calmed at his touch and stopped trying to cry out, but she shivered uncontrollably at the sight of his tail. He realized the extent it disturbed her, and after one more playful poke, he curled it behind him and suddenly it simply wasn't there anymore.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked, somewhat amused, yet very soothingly.

She nodded silently and her shivering reduced somewhat when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"What do you want from me?" she managed to ask, after a few moments.

He smiled and then soothingly stroked her hair, "I don't want anything from you but your company."

"But why?" she asked softly, feeling behind her until she felt her fingers wrap around the smooth handle of the umbrella. She hugged it close to her chest and averted her eyes.

"Because I like you," he answered simply.

"Why?" she repeated, slowly rocking back and forth with the umbrella.

"Because I do," he replied.

"Don't you have a reason?" she asked quietly.

"Do I need one?" he asked, giving his voice a slight edge. He lifted his hand lightly as if to draw it away and she immediately backed down.

"No, no. Of course not. I didn't mean that. I just wondered if you had a reason . . . that's all," she replied nervously.

He smiled again and then pulled her to a standing position, "Come on. We'd better go and eat before the crab spoils."

He turned smoothly and she moved as if to follow but then stopped.

"Wait," she said, "What do I call you?"

He didn't bother turning back to her before answering, "I have been called many names, some of which I like, some of which I dislike, and some of which are down right hilarious. The Evil One, Satan, the Devil, the Morning Star. I think I'd like it if you just called me Lucifer. No one ever calls me that anymore."

"Lucifer," she repeated to herself as she followed him, "the Morning Star . . . . "