Chapter 7


Lucifer awoke, feeling as though he hadn’t slept at all. What little rest he had managed to get had been broken and filled with nightmares. Even now, a low-level dread coursed through him.

The Detective knew.

Abruptly he sat up, reaching for his phone where it lay on the nightstand and flipping it over so he could see the screen.

Nothing.

She hadn’t replied to his calls or his texts. He closed his eyes against the surge of despair that ran through him. He thought he’d royally screwed things up when he’d refused to tell the Detective how he felt about her on the night she’d become engaged to Pierce, but this was worse.

She was avoiding his calls; but surely she wouldn’t avoid work? Throwing back the covers, he slid out of bed. The station. Surely she’d be at the station.

***
Lucifer strode purposefully through the doors of the station, looking for Chloe. He couldn’t force her to answer his calls or reply to his messages, she may even tell him to leave, but at least if he saw her he’d know how she was reacting to his identity and this suffocating uncertainty would be over.

He rounded the corner towards her desk and stopped.

Her desk was empty.

Turning, he scanned the area, looking for any sign of her. Finding none, he took the stairs up to the mezzanine for a better vantage point, leaning his hands on the railing and searching for any trace of her blonde hair.

Nothing.

Seeing a familiar figure, he took the stairs back to the main level at a near jog and interrupted Dan’s conversation with one of his fellow detectives.

“Daniel?” Lucifer asked, ignoring the presence of the other officer.

“You looking for Chloe?”

“Yes, have you seen her? Her desk is empty.”

“Yeah, she took a personal day.”

“A personal day?” Lucifer repeated, surprised. “But she never takes the day off.”

“I don’t know what to tell you man, that’s all I know.” Dan paused, giving Lucifer a suspicious look. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t say anything to her,” Lucifer defended himself with a touch of exasperation.

“Yeah. Right.” Dan walked away, shaking his head.

“Damn.”

This was worse than Lucifer had thought. When she’d smiled at the sight of his wings the night before, he’d thought that maybe this would be easy. That maybe she knew him well enough not to be terrified or upset by the knowledge that he was exactly what he’d always claimed to be. But then Amenadiel had walked in and by the time Lucifer had gotten rid of his brother, the Detective had fled.

He’d known she was avoiding him when she started ignoring his phone calls and text messages, but going to the extreme of taking a day off work just to escape seeing him was beyond bad. The Detective practically defined the term ‘workaholic’.

Knowing it was futile, he pulled out his phone and called the Detective’s number again, hanging up when he heard the beginning of her voicemail message for what felt like the thousandth time in the last twelve hours.

She was going to do it. Exactly as he’d feared, she was going to dissolve their partnership.

It was all over.

So much of his life had become centred around seeking justice for the victims of the crimes they investigated. And he’d come to enjoy it. Seeking out and punishing evildoers. It went beyond simply getting to work alongside the Detective.

It had become his purpose.

And it was about to be taken from him. Could he really go back to what he’d been before meeting her? Go back to simply running Lux?
Did he have a choice?

No; but he could extract one last piece of punishment before the means were lost to him.

***
Lois woke up the next morning gritty-eyed after a restless night’s sleep. She’d tried to call Clark about watching a movie after her call with Lex ended, but he hadn’t picked up and she’d assumed he must have done what he said he would: turned off his ringer and gone to sleep.

She crawled out of bed and stumbled over to the counter that held her tiny in-room coffee maker, thankful that she’d thought to set it up the night before, then headed into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her hair. Her teeth could wait until after coffee.

A few minutes later she was pouring the blessed liquid into a paper cup and taking her first careful sip of the day. She waited for the fog to lift, but the day still seemed unaccountably gloomy as she carried the coffee back into the bathroom with her to finish while she did her hair and makeup.

She tried to focus on what she was doing since she didn’t want to have to re-do her face, but Lex’s words kept coming back to her. ‘I’m glad you have such a good partner, my dear,’ he’d said, ‘but do you think it’s good for Kent to rely on you personally so much?’ She’d argued that Clark wasn’t just her partner, he was her friend. Lex had said he understood, but asked her if she thought it was fair to Clark to be spending so much of his free time with a woman who was dating another man. Then he suggested that Clark might be happier if he broadened his social circle just a bit. He hadn’t come right out and said so, but Lois wasn’t stupid. She knew Lex was implying that Clark needed a girlfriend.

It had sounded so reasonable at the time- no, it still sounds reasonable, she told herself- but the thought of Clark with another woman- no, not another woman, with a girlfriend- upset her for reasons that she preferred not to examine too closely. She blotted her lipstick and finished the last of the coffee, then walked back out into the room to pour herself another cup and dress for the day.

She was just tucking her blouse into her skirt when someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?” she called as she picked up her purse and made sure nothing had fallen out onto the nightstand.

“It’s Clark. I was wondering if you wanted to get some breakfast downstairs.”

Lois twitched, her hand tightening on her bag for a moment, then forced herself to relax, “Sure, I’ll be right there!” She picked her jacket up off the bed, then slipped it on and buttoned it as she walked toward the door. There’s no reason to be jumpy, it’s just Clark, she reminded herself as she crossed the room and opened the door.

There he stood, looking handsome as always and smiling that killer smile at her. “Good morning, partner!”

She smiled weakly at him, but didn’t say anything. Oh my god, what is wrong with me today? Lex said Clark needs more friends, not that he shouldn’t be friends with me!

His smile faltered a little, but he shored it up quickly. “Since they have that free hot breakfast bar downstairs and we were in too much of a hurry to take advantage of it before, I thought we could try it this morning. Sound good to you?”

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then seemed to gather herself. “Sure, sure that sounds fine. We ought to try everything,” she summoned up a smile from somewhere, “that way if all else fails we can write a travel piece.”

Clark’s grin widened and she tensed against it. “Sounds good to me! Shall we?” He extended his arm and gestured for her to precede him down the hall toward the elevators. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he pressed the call button and she shifted from foot to foot while they waited for the car to reach their floor. “You sleep alright?”

“Fine,” she answered tersely, “and you? Did you sleep well? You got an early start.”

Was she mad that he hadn’t waited up for her call? Was that what was wrong this morning? “I was pretty tired after all that running around yesterday.”

“M’hmm”

He sighed quietly in relief as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, then reached out to place his customary hand on the small of her back as Lois stepped in. She tensed under his touch and he dropped his hand like she’d burned him, then stepped stiffly into the elevator with her.

“Lois, are you sure you’re ok?” he asked awkwardly, trying not to provoke her unnecessarily.

“I’m fine, Clark.” she said in a flat tone; then she softened a little “I’m probably just grumpy because I haven’t eaten yet. I’ll be ok once I have some breakfast in me.” She worked up a tiny smile for him.

Clark didn’t believe it for a minute, knowing that she usually barely thought to grab a slice of dry toast in the mornings, but in the interest of peace he decided to let it go and nodded agreeably.

Clark reached out to steady her as the elevator came to a bouncier-than-usual stop at the ground floor, then he remembered her earlier reaction and withdrew his hand before it made contact. Instead, he put one hand to the edge of the doors to hold them open and gestured for her to precede him again with the other. “After you, miss!” he said with false but hearty cheer.

Lois rolled her eyes and stepped out of the compartment, heading for the breakfast bar. She selected two slices of buttered toast and filled the rest of her plate with some fruit, then headed for the coffee service and a table while Clark shook his head behind her. Sure Lois, it’s your blood sugar. Better make sure you get that huge breakfast you’re used to.

He was more than smart enough not to say anything though. He got a plate for himself and filled it with scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, and toast, then got a glass of juice and took the seat across from her. He studiously applied himself to emptying his plate and not comment on what she was or wasn’t having.

Lois wasn’t so restrained about his choices. “Good grief, Clark, between the Twinkies, the Ding Dongs, that mess you ate last night, and this smorgasbord, how are you even still walking around? You’re like a walking advertisement for cholesterol medication!” A small fleck of egg flew off her fork as she gestured vigorously at his plate.

Clark intended to tease her a bit, but accidentally snarked back a little harder than he’d meant to. “Well, I’d hate for my blood sugar to drop and make me grumpy.”

Lois narrowed her eyes at him and set her coffee cup down with a thump. Maybe Lex was right and she should be encouraging Clark to get out more, for his own good. Clearly she was starting to rub off on him too much.

“Right. I’m going to go get my stuff so we can get back to Metropolis. Maybe Perry will have a nice dog show for us to cover.” Lois stood up, shoving her chair back in under the table.

Clark sighed. She’d been borderline snappy with him all morning; and to be honest, Clark was disappointed with their lack of progress in LA as well. He’d hoped that they’d find something more. Something with a definite link to Luthor. Something that would make Lois start to see through the public persona of the philanthropic billionaire and finally believe what Clark had been trying to tell her.

But it had backfired. Not only had they not found what he’d wished for, but their argument last night had driven a further wedge between them. He’d thought they resolved things before they parted in the hallway the night before; maybe Luthor had said something during their call that put her hackles up at Clark.

“Maybe Jimmy will have some luck tracing that numbered account,” he commented.

“Clark, has Jimmy ever managed to trace a numbered account?”

“There’s always a first time.”

“Let’s face it Clark, we’ve hit a dead end,” Lois picked up her purse and walked towards her
room.

***
Lucifer looked around, making sure no one was watching as he sidled into the evidence lock-up. While he could go most places within the station with relative impunity, there were certain areas that his civilian status rendered out-of-bounds- the evidence room being one of them. He raised an eyebrow, momentarily disoriented by the dizzying array of seemingly identical boxes before consulting the file number he’d taken note of and figuring out roughly where the evidence he was looking for should be stored.

Working quickly, he located the box he wanted, copying down the account number from the file and slipping the dagger into the inner pocket of his jacket. Though the case was closed, the police frowned on things being removed from evidence before the all-clear was given.
He couldn’t wait for that to happen. By then, the Detective would have severed their partnership and any access he had at the station would be lost to him.

Even the Detective had little confidence in the Financial Investigations unit’s ability to figure out who was behind Cox’s murder; but he had resources that weren’t available to the LAPD.

***
Lucifer adjusted one cufflink as the elevator slowed and came to a smooth stop. The doors slid open with a muted ding, exposing an incredible panoramic view of the city through the expanse of glass behind the reception desk. He quirked an eyebrow. The favour he’d granted Mr Evans had certainly paid off.

Approaching the reception desk, he leaned one elbow on the edge of the gleaming marble surface and pasted on his most charming grin.

“Hello.”

The receptionist glanced up, her eyes going suddenly wide behind her glasses.

“I’d very much like to see Mr Evans.”

Lucifer was privately amused to see the young, blonde receptionist come to her feet with such alacrity that she stumbled slightly.

“Right this way, Mr…”

“Oh sorry, where are my manners? Lucifer. Morningstar,” he supplied.

“Right this way, Mr Morningstar,” she repeated a shade breathlessly, leading him down a short hallway and tapping on her boss’s door.

“Thank you,” he murmured, watching as a blush crept across her cheeks and she turned, a shade unsteadily, back towards her desk at the entrance.

Lucifer closed the door behind him, noting that the panoramic views continued in this office as well.

“Mr Morningstar!” his debtor exclaimed in surprise.

“Hello, Chad.” Lucifer settled into one of the leather chairs in front of Evans’s desk. “You seem to be doing well for yourself.”

Evans shifted uncomfortably, avoiding making eye contact while he stammered disjointed excuses before finally getting to the point.

“What can I do for you?”

“Well, it’s a small matter really. Remember when you lost all of your clients’ money in a risky investment venture and came to me for a favour?”

“Ye-yes,” the suddenly harried-looking investment advisor replied with a wary look at his office door.

“I’m calling in my IOU.”

***
The buzzing of her phone against the countertop woke Chloe from where she’d finally slumped in an exhausted sleep. Blinking the bleariness from her eyes, she checked the screen, knowing it would be Lucifer.

It was.

Yet again, she hit the button to silence the ringing before standing and stretching to try and work out some of the kinks. She’d been unable to sleep the night before; her body had been tired, but her mind simply wouldn’t stop turning over all the ramifications of Lucifer’s revelation. The last thing she consciously remembered doing was calling the station and taking an emergency personal day; she’d sat back down at the breakfast bar to try and figure out what to do and then… nothing.

She checked the time and was appalled to see that that was nearly five hours ago. Strangely, she did feel calmer.

***
Lucifer stepped out onto the street, tucking the papers Evans had given him securely away with the dagger he was still carrying.

Lexel Investments.

The name linked to the account meant little to him, beyond the ubiquity of Luthor’s name on everything he touched and Clark’s conviction that Luthor was The Boss.

As much as he wanted to be the one that brought Lex Luthor down, to terrify him with the knowledge that his miserable soul would spend eternity torturing itself in Hell, he didn’t think he had the contacts to do it.

But he knew someone who did. And his thirst for justice was just as strong as Lucifer’s.

He pulled his phone out and unlocked it, dialling one of his more recent contacts.

“Clark? It’s Lucifer. Can you meet me at Lux in-“ he checked the time- “about fifteen minutes?”

“Yes I know you’ve got a flight to catch, but trust me, this is important.”

***
Chloe turned the water on, adjusting the temperature before climbing into the shower and letting the water cascade down her back. She rotated her shoulders, trying to work out some of the stiffness left over from her unorthodox sleeping position while her mind returned to Lucifer.

This wasn’t the first time she’d stood under the shower and tried to puzzle out Lucifer’s identity. The first time had been when she was beginning to believe that he actually was the Devil, right before she’d shot him in that warehouse. That one gunshot had halted her falling for his hocus-pocus, as she’d put it to him; but now that she knew the truth, it raised more questions.

Why had she been able to shoot him at all?

He was the Devil; historically immortal, invincible; and he’d made that point himself several times. So why had she been able to harm him?

How had knowing the truth about his identity raised more questions than it answered?

Lucifer was the Devil, Amenadiel was an angel, Maze was a demon, and Marcus was an immortal murderer. What was next? Vampires? Werewolves?

Was ANYTHING she believed real?

And Marcus... she’d never really known him, had she? She’d been naive to think you could get to know someone well enough to build a life together in just a few short weeks. She’d thought Dan hiding his role in the Palmetto case was bad enough, but this?

Lucifer’s been hiding just as much from you, her inner voice pointed out. So why aren’t you angry with him?

That’s different, Chloe told herself. And it was. Lucifer had told her time and time again that he was the Devil. She’d just never believed him.

And Lucifer... the evidence that there was something strange, something not human about him had been there since their very first case together. How he’d survived being shot multiple times by Jimmy Barnes. How he’d thrown that sleazy agent through the glass wall like he weighed nothing at all. His desire trick. Even his non-existent background.

She’d started off questioning everything about him; then as she got to know him, she’d dismissed all the crazy things he could do.

She’d been wilfully blind to the truth; but then, when the truth was as unbelievable as him being the Devil, who could blame her?

***
Lucifer sat at the bar, a glass in front of him. At this time of day, Lux was nearly deserted, with only the manager, Leonard, getting things ready for the night’s trade. Even the music was muted, making it the perfect place to talk uninterrupted.

He looked up, pausing in the act of lifting his drink as Clark walked in.

“Right on time, I see,” he commented as the Kryptonian approached the bar. He poured a measure of Scotch into a glass and handed it to Clark, who promptly set it down on the bar.

“Lucifer. What’s so urgent? I’m supposed to be on my way to the airport.”

“I told you, this is important,” Lucifer said. “Besides, I’m sure you can always… make up for lost time. You know, use a little of that superspeed.” He gave Clark a knowing look. “You can’t tell me you only use your powers when you’re wearing those garish tights of yours.” His grin widened as the part-time superhero looked away uncomfortably.

Lucifer waited until the other man had seated himself before sliding the dagger and the papers along the glossy surface of the bar.

“Where did you get this? This is evidence!” Clark looked up in horror from the plastic packet he’d just picked up.

“Not anymore. The case was closed, remember? Incontrovertible proof that Stephens and Cox were responsible for each other’s deaths and all that? You recognised it. I saw it in your eyes. And it’s my bet that it’s somehow linked to our mutual ah... friend.”

“Does Chloe know about this?”

“No, the Detective and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Well, she saw these feathery nuisances of mine and she’s not exactly taking it well.”

“You showed her your wings?!”

“Not deliberately. I don’t always have perfect control over them- this isn’t the point!”

“She’s not talking to you?”

“No, and considering she took time off work to avoid me, I’m not certain she’ll be talking to me again in the future either. Now. I called in a favour and had the number on the account traced. Does Lexel Investments ring a bell at all?”

Clark shook his head, his brow furrowing. “I haven’t come across any references to it yet, but it sounds like something of Luthor’s,” he commented. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Well it’s very simple, isn’t it? You save your lady love and I get revenge on the only human ever to welsh on a deal. It’s a win-win.”

“Yes, but why?”

“Oh, so I owe you an explanation now, do I?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Lucifer.”

He sighed. “Alright fine. A short time ago, the Detective became engaged to a man that I abhor. The immortal version of your Lex Luthor.”

“I thought Chloe was engaged to Lieutenant Pierce.”

“Pierce is just a cover. His real name is Cain. The world’s first murderer.”

“As in Cain and Abel?”

“Mm.” Lucifer nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “He has another name too. The Sinnerman.”

“Sinnerman?”

“The head of a criminal syndicate that stretches from here to Chicago.”

“Does Chloe know all this?”

“I tried to warn her. But, well, the Detective is a woman who requires proof, and it’s my word against his.” Not that she’s taking my word about anything right now, he continued internally.

“Tell me about it,” Clark commented sourly.

“Exactly.” He took another swig of his drink, trying to ward off the pain that threatened to engulf him when he thought about the Detective’s brief engagement to Cain.

Clark looked down at the dagger in its plastic bag, then looked back up at Lucifer. “Thanks, Lucifer. And… Chloe cares about you. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Right.”

***
Everything Chloe knew about the Devil- that he was Evil incarnate, responsible for every sin, every atrocity known to man- none of that sounded like the Lucifer she knew.

The Lucifer she knew wasn’t evil. She’d said as much to Lois- was it really only two days ago?

So who was he really? Was the public persona of the Devil the truth? Or was it the man she’d worked alongside all this time? She’d seen him near tears at crime scenes before; heard the tremble of anger in his voice; even seen that anger unleashed against the guilty. Surely he couldn’t fake such raw emotion so well just to cover his inner, evil, self?

No. No, she didn’t believe that.

She’d held the proof she needed of his origins in her hand two years ago- the sample taken from the pool of blood when he’d been shot by Malcolm Graham. But she’d chosen to throw it away. Why? Because she hadn’t wanted to know the truth? Or because she’d known instinctively that Lucifer wasn’t evil, no matter what the test results said?

It was time to stop focussing on what she thought she knew about the Devil, and focus on what she did know about Lucifer.

***
Clark settled himself against the back of the seat, angling his shoulders so they didn’t brush against his seat mates and wondering yet again why airplane seats couldn’t be made to accommodate people with his build.

His hands gripped the armrests as the plane completed its takeoff roll; he hated flying with someone else in control, trapped in a pressurised metal tube for hours on end.

Beside him, Lois snorted in amusement. She’d discovered his dislike of airplanes when they’d made the trip to Smallville and she’d never let him live it down.

As the plane levelled off, he relaxed and let himself think about the evidence Lucifer had given him, now safely stowed in his checked baggage.

Using it- the dagger and the account information- was a gamble. Right now, the only link he had between the account and Luthor was Luthor’s self-aggrandising habit of putting his name on everything he touched. He needed more information.

Turning his head, he surveyed the woman sitting next to him. Lois wouldn’t want to investigate something so close to Luthor, especially after their argument the night before. No, he wouldn’t ask her for help. He’d enlist Perry, and Jimmy, and Jack instead. If they built up enough if a case, maybe they could get Mrs Cox to flip on Luthor- provided, of course, that she hadn’t been the one to order the hit on her ex-husband.

There was a lot to do, Clark acknowledged. But at least now he had a starting point.

***
Linda Martin sat behind her desk in the gathering dusk, transcribing and expanding the notes she’d taken in the day’s sessions into her patients’ files.

An insistent tap on the door followed swiftly by the door’s opening broke her concentration.
She looked up, surprised to see Lucifer step into the room.

“Lucifer? We don’t have an appointment.”

She took stock of the tall, dark figure standing hesitantly in front of the door. He seemed distressed, far more troubled than when he’d sought her out the day before.

“I know. And I’m sorry to barge in on you like this- and for the second day in a row, no less- but…” He paused, seemingly struggling for words.

She stood, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch and switching her own chair for the one in front of him.

“What’s wrong?”

“The Detective knows the truth.”

“Oh! You finally told her?”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“O-kay.”

“The Detective- she came to the penthouse, and she was shouting at me about the feather, and I lost control of these blasted things-“

As happened so often when it came to the various celestials she knew, Linda’s mind started reeling. She seized on the most important part of his disjointed narrative.

“You showed Chloe your wings?”

“Not deliberately, Doctor, keep up will you?”

“Okay. What feather?”

“The one I gave the Detective’s offspring, of course.”

“You gave Trixie a feather?”

“Yes!” he said exasperatedly. “Her offspring was collecting feathers for some school project or another and I gave her one of mine.”

“One of yours.”

“Yes, one of the smaller ones.”

Linda took a deep breath. “And then what happened?”

“Well the Detective found it, of course. Do you know, she thought it was from a bloody condor? I mean, how can you mistake one of my feathers for one from some pestilential bird?”

“Ahh.”

“Ahh… what?”

“Well, I think that subconsciously, you meant for Chloe to find that feather.”

“What?”

“You knew that she would check her daughter’s school project. And you knew that she would see the feather- and that she’d question where her daughter got it from.” She paused. “I think you reached a turning point in your relationship with Chloe. Whether you admit it or not, I think you realised that you had to make the decision to let her see all of you- to choose to let her into your life- so that your relationship could move forward. I think you finally reached a point where your fear of losing Chloe was stronger than your fear of her rejecting you once she found out your true nature.”

“So you’re saying I swapped one fear for another.”

“In a way. But that’s healthy, Lucifer. Relationships- meaningful relationships- require taking risks. And fear is a natural consequence of those risks.”

She paused again, letting her insights sink in. “How is Chloe taking it?”

“Badly. Well I think she is, it’s hard to tell right now. I haven’t heard from her since.”

Linda nodded. When she’d found out the truth about Lucifer- and by extension, Maze and Amenadiel- she’d avoided them for days. Even after Maze had talked some sense into her, it had taken a further week to be able to focus on anything but Lucifer’s identity. And she wasn’t as close, emotionally, as Chloe was to Lucifer.

“So what do I do now?”

“The only thing you can do. Be patient. You need to give her the time she needs to sort through everything she just learned.”

***
Underneath everything - the wings, the Devil, the fact that he wasn’t actually human- he was still just… Lucifer.

She’d been indefinably connected to him from the start. She’d let her guard down around Lucifer in ways she’d never even considered doing around Dan, and she’d done it without a moment’s thought. That connection, everything they’d been through, everything they’d done… did she really want to throw all that away because of what he was? Because of what he’d been forced to be?

No.

She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t do what the rest of the world did and judge him on his reputation. Not when she knew the man underneath that reputation.

The real Lucifer.

The real Lucifer was warm, empathetic and a little insecure. Someone who was passionate about seeking justice. About fairness. He cared about people- about the victims of the crimes they investigated, about the few family members that chose to recognise him, about his friends.

About her.

And she cared about him. She always had. When she’d thought he was sleeping with Ella, when he’d run off to Vegas and come home with a ditzy bimbo on his arm, even when she’d agreed to marry Marcus, she still cared for Lucifer.

Loved him, you mean, her inner voice piped up. That’s why you let your guard down so easily around him. Why you were so upset when he disappeared on your birthday. Why you’re not angry with him over the Devil thing. Why you accepted Marcus’s proposal when Lucifer wouldn't tell you how he felt. You’re in love with Lucifer.

She let out a small chuckle of amazement as the weight of her realisation hit her.

She had made the safe choice- or what she thought was the safe choice- with Marcus. She hadn’t loved him, and so he couldn’t hurt her. Not the way Lucifer could.

But sometimes the safe choice- the sensible choice- wasn’t the right choice.

She hadn’t loved Marcus, but she did love Lucifer. His sense of humour, his intelligence, his occasional bouts of breath-taking vulnerability, his passion, his loyalty…all of it. And yet, what had she done to him? She’d dismissed everything he’d ever told her about his family, his parents, the role he’d been forced into, even about having Maze sever his wings… oh god, the wings, no wonder he’d been so desperate to find them, Carmen had been auctioning off part of Lucifer…

Even now, what was she doing? He’d shown her his biggest secret and she’d run. Treated him like the monster his parents had forced him to be.

Turning abruptly, she scrubbed the tears she hadn’t even noticed from her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater and headed for the door, scooping up her keys as she exited.

***
Lucifer leant on the balcony railing, staring unseeing out over the city lights. Was Linda right? Had he subconsciously tried to show the Detective the truth when he gave her offspring that feather? If so, it was one hell of a gamble.

And it had failed.

He had to face it.

He’d lost.

But then, did he have any right to expect anything different? He was the Devil. And as much as he wished it otherwise, three years of the Detective knowing the real man wasn’t enough to break through the lifetime of indoctrination. Wasn’t enough for her to accept the man under the distorted image his parents had forced on him.

He glanced up at the sky, an expression of pure hatred on his face. Was this all just another part of the unending punishment meted out by his Father? Put the Detective in his path, knowing that he’d fall for her, and yet make it completely impossible for her to accept him?

Wasn’t the vilification enough without making him feel this... this agony?


Or was the plan to make him choose a different path? To return to reign over Hell willingly, with wounds as fresh as the day he’d been cast out?

He wouldn’t give his Father the satisfaction.

Going back inside, he poured a fresh drink and picked up the file he’d left on the bar, setting them both down on the lid of the piano and flipping open the thick manila folder.

He’d had these papers for months now, and yet the only time he’d been close to a decision on the expansion of Lux had been those dreadful few weeks when the Detective had been engaged to Pierce. Sardonically it amused him that he, who’d spent most of his immortal existence avoiding emotional entanglements and indulging his carnal desires, was now pinning much of his future on one mortal woman.

How she’d changed him indeed.

***
Unable to concentrate on the paperwork, Lucifer let the folder fall back onto the lid of the piano, uncaring that the papers inside slid and scattered across the glossy surface as he sank heavily onto the piano bench. Lifting the fall board, he began to play, trying to push all extraneous thoughts out of his mind and just focus on the music. Music had so often been his solace, especially since he’d met Chloe and started feeling all these rather pesky emotions, but tonight all it served to do was remind him of her.

He picked his glass up off the lid, swallowing some of the amber liquid inside and setting it back down with an angry click against the wood. He wouldn’t let himself think of her. Not now. Returning his hand to the keyboard, he picked up the melody line of the song once again and closed his eyes, concentrating solely on the movement of his fingers across the keys.

“Hi.”

His eyes flew open, startled by the sound of her voice. He hadn’t even heard the elevator arrive, and yet she was standing next to the piano.

“Detective!”

“I’m sorry, were you busy with… what is all this?” Chloe picked the proposed building plans up off the piano and started leafing through them.

“Possible future expansion of Lux,” he answered slowly, confused by her presence. What was she doing here? He’d never expected to see her again. Had she come to say goodbye?

“I’m just not used to seeing you surrounded by paperwork.”

“Owning Lux isn’t all partying, Detective,” he informed her, unnerved by how- how normally she was treating him. Had she not fully grasped what the wings meant? Had she somehow mistaken him for one of his angelic brothers? It was possible, he supposed. Few people associated angel wings with the Devil, despite his status as a fallen angel.

The Detective looked up at him, making eye contact fleetingly. “I know.” She laid the folder back down. “So where is this expansion? Vegas?”

Lucifer shook his head. “Metropolis. Detective, why are you here?” he asked, unable to take the surreality of their conversation any longer.

She ignored his question. “Metropolis? So… you’re leaving LA?”

“I haven’t made a decision yet,” he told her, painfully aware of how much his decision relied on her.

“But if it goes ahead?” she pressed.

Is that what she wanted? For him to leave Los Angeles?

“If I decide to take up my option, then I’d be gone for… well, for several months I’d imagine, getting the place set up, and then I’d be splitting my time between here and there. You’d have to look for a new partner, but you’d be doing that anyway, I expect,” he said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

This time she looked up and met his eyes squarely. “Why would I be doing that?”

“Well, because-“

“Because you’re the Devil,” she completed his thought, sitting down on the bench beside him. He looked down at her, nonplussed.

“What?”

“This isn’t how I thought you’d react,” he commented slowly. “I was worried that I’d never see you again.”

“Lucifer, no.”

“Most people that know the truth can’t wait to get away from me.” His eyes searched hers, looking for a hint that she was about to flee; she held his gaze, smiling faintly at him.

“Most people don’t know you, Lucifer. You’re not evil. And you’re not a monster, either.” She looked him in the eyes as she reached up and touched his cheek, causing his heart rate to skyrocket. “I know you better than that.”

Her gaze flickered down to his mouth, then back up to meet his eyes. His heart went from thundering in his chest to nearly stopped as she leaned toward him slowly. The tip of Chloe’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips and his heart lurched back into motion as he subconsciously swayed toward her on the piano bench.

Chloe’s hand slipped across his cheek and into his hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling him toward her when he didn’t sway close enough to suit her on his own. A small smile turned the corners of her mouth up moments before their lips met.

Lucifer froze for a moment in sheer shock as sparks of joy shot through him like fireworks. The Detective was kissing him. Chloe was kissing him! She knew who he was, and she was kissing him! They’d kissed before, of course, on one rather memorable occasion, but this time she was kissing him - not just Lucifer Morningstar, but Samael the Lightbringer, Abaddon, fallen angel and Heaven’s reject. He was dizzy with delighted surprise as her lips slid across his.

Chloe fisted her hands in his hair, humming with quiet satisfaction as she breathed in his clean, slightly spicy masculine scent. She scooted closer to him on the bench and parted her lips slightly, tasting his top lip with the tip of her tongue. When Lucifer gasped in surprise, she slid forward a tiny bit further and touched the tip of her tongue to his.

He came alive at the contact, leaning hard into her and wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. He moved to wrap his other arm around her as well, and swept his glass off the piano with a smash. They leapt apart like startled deer at the noise and stared at each other, breathing hard. After what felt like hours of frozen staring, Chloe's lips began to twitch.

Lucifer caught his breath and closed his slightly gaping jaw, then grinned at her, “Well. That definitely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.”

Chloe burst out laughing, too happy to contain it any longer. Once she got herself somewhat under control, she wiped her eyes and reached out to take his hand. “I hope it’s one you can get used to, though.”

His grin curved into something warmer and more intimate as he gently pulled her closer. “It might take a little practice.”
~*~

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"HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE." -Terry Pratchett, Hogfather