A Beach on Isla San Pedro, Sunday Evening

If it were up to Duke and Lucifer, they would stay. Of that, Lucifer was certain. Just as certain as he was of another truth: Octavia wasn't ready to leave Fandom behind, and if she wasn't feeling the pull to the island yet, then it would come soon.

So, grudgingly, Lucifer had made arrangements to return. Soon. But not quite yet.

And so he had vanished on Saturday while Duke and Octavia swam and hiked, to work on his piece de resistance - something to tempt them all to stay, something to embed some good memories that would call them back here again. More than anywhere else they'd been, this place had begun to feel like home. Lucifer wanted to celebrate it.

"Almost there," he called, as they walked around the path towards the little beach.

And then there, behind some bushes, it was: a small beach, private and untouched. He had set up a number of sturdy, wooden parasols with little round tables around them, and a small open-walled shack with a thatched roof, its sandy floor littered with seating pillows and foldable wooden mini-tables. At its back stood a lone refridgerator, stocked with their favorite drinks and a tasteful selection of snacks.

He had strung little fairy lights from each parasol, to the shack. They cast a warm glow upon the sand.

"Thought we should have a little private party."

[[ for them. ]]