Was Lucifer standing at a reasonable distance from the teenagers in his class? Yes, he was. Were they standing in the Danger Shop, set to a particular Los Angeles police office Lucifer would not mention the name of? Yes.

Around them, there were people. Frozen in time.

"Cops," Lucifer began. "Pigs. The fuzz. The bill, if you wish, the heat, the man. If you are going to be involved in law enforcement, you'll have to deal with them. I know, I know, I doubt some of you are eager to do so, considering, but it helps to know the types."

Types, yes.

"Generally, we find cops in four different guises," he said, sitting down on the desk behind him. He gestured towards the stern-but-dopey-looking Hispanic man behind him. "First, there's the Dan," he said gleefully. "Grumpy, earnest, boring, occasionally prone to a bit of corruption on the side."

He slid away from 'Dan', and wandered towards a young woman with a winning smile. "Then there's the Ella. The Ella is delightful. She jokes, she gossips, she brightens up the day, she's a unicorn," he said.

He turned away from 'Ella' and gestured towards... a really generic-looking brunette. "Now, your... ... ... Zoe, is a by-the-books type that needs to be coaxed into letting her hair down, but who has a fundamentally good heart to the point of madness."

"... and then finally, you've got your generic officer," Lucifer said, clearing his throat. He nodded towards a tall woman with set shoulders and an eager look in her eye. "She likes donuts. And she's.... around most of the time, I'm fairly sure."

A pause.

"Today's exercise will be to get to know them," he said, "Nothing more irritating than turning up to a crime scene and realizing you've no clue how to wrangle your cops, no?" His grin was a little feverish. "Go on. Bother them, not me."