Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes Chloe could swear Lucifer had a sixth sense when it came to timing.

He had a knack for showing up just when she needed him, and for saying seemingly random things at a crucial point in a case that helped solve the whole thing. He had a habit of coming up with suggestions at work and outside of it that were often annoying or sounded ridiculous, only for them to end up being exactly what was needed at the time.

And now this. Chloe stared at the name lighting up the screen on her phone, wondering if he somehow knew. Debating whether she should bother to answer.

On the last ring, she swiped her thumb across the screen. “Hey.”

“Detective, hi.” His voice was as bright as it always was when they spoke on the phone, but there was an undercurrent to it that she couldn’t decipher. “I know this is last minute, but I was… well, I was wondering if I could come over? To your apartment, I mean. If you’re home and not—not busy.”

Was he actually stammering? If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was nervous.

He didn’t give her any space to reply, just continued on. “I want to make up for missing dinner before. Instead of making a show of it—since I don’t think either of us would like that—I figured I could just, um. Bring something over for us, and the urchin too, of course—”

As much as Chloe wanted to hear whatever else he might have to add, she was running out of time. So she cut him off. “Lucifer… I appreciate it, but I don’t think you should come over right now.”

She really did appreciate it, too. After sitting in that restaurant for two hours waiting for even a single word from him and getting nothing, after all the tension between them today… she hadn’t expected for him to reach out like that, not so directly. But here he was.

When he spoke again, it was like the apprehension had fled, clear disappointment taking its place. “Yes, of course. I didn’t want to impose. Though if you change your mind, today or some other time—”

The elevator doors opened in front of her as he spoke, revealing the penthouse and her partner standing near the piano. He’d been gazing at the floor, and Chloe caught just a brief flash of that disappointment on his face before he looked up and blinked in surprise. “Detective? I thought…”

She smiled. “It seems like a waste of time to meet at my apartment when I’m already here.”

She hung up and slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket. Lucifer stood frozen for another second before he let his hand fall, too, setting the phone on the piano next to a bottle of wine. He cleared his throat, a matching smile spreading over his face. “Well, then. Yes, come in.” He lifted the wine. “I’m afraid this is all I have to offer for sustenance at the moment, though. I was going to pick up dinner on the way. I can have something delivered if you’re hungry?”

Chloe nodded. She was hungry; she hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it wasn’t like she’d had much of an appetite then, what with all the stress of the trial weighing on her. When she’d gotten home, she’d had to take a while to think and process the disappointment in letting her dad’s killer go free.

It wasn’t easy to stomach. She felt like she was letting him down, but she also wanted to think he would have been proud of her for doing the right thing and not throwing Lucifer under the bus.

And it had been the right thing to do. She was the one who’d screwed up; she couldn’t let Lucifer pay the price for that. He’d been trying so hard to help her. He always did, really. Not always in the best way, and he screwed up all the time too, but when it came down to it, he had her back and was there when she needed him.

She didn’t think she meant nothing to him. And so if he’d had a reason for blowing her off before… she would give him the chance to explain. That, or she would just firmly put any notions of them out of her mind. He hadn’t even specified it was supposed to be a date; it was entirely possible she’d just been making something out of nothing and that it was her fault for setting herself up for so much disappointment.

Which was why she was trying not to think anything of this offer, either. That was just what he did—he messed up and then tried to fix it. Dinner for a missed dinner. Something casual with the two of them as friends, like they’d done a few times before when working late. Or when he just randomly showed up at her apartment without food on his mind, like he’d forgotten most people ate dinner in the early evening, and ended up sharing whatever they were having.

She’d thought maybe they’d been heading in a different direction, but Lucifer didn’t want that kind of thing, and that was fine. She didn’t need more than what they already were to each other.

“Yeah, that would be great,” she told him.

“I know just the place.”

Without any more elaboration than that, he ordered for both of them on his phone while Chloe searched the bar for something to open the wine with. She found it just as Lucifer casually said, “If you’re hunting around for valuables or dirty secrets, I’m afraid you’re looking in the wrong place.”

She rolled her eyes, holding up the corkscrew. Then she took the wine from him and worked on opening the bottle. “You sure do have a lot of valuables and secrets, but no.”

“Well, if you change your mind, all you have to do is ask. I’ll tell you exactly where to look.”

The valuables, sure, she believed him about that part. She’d never met anyone who treated wealth so cavalierly, especially not a wealthy person. But the secrets? Yeah, right. “I’m not interested in finding out what gross sex toys you have in the closet,” she said. “The only secrets I’d want to know aren’t going to be shoved in a draw somewhere.” She said it lightly, so hopefully he would know she was joking, not fishing for those secrets. “Do you have any actual wine glasses? Or—”

“Here.” He moved past her and pulled two of them out from where they’d been tucked behind his usual scotch glasses. “Shall we… shall we sit on the balcony? It’s a lovely evening.”

“Sure.”

They went outside, where Lucifer pulled over two chairs and a little table from the corner and then turned on the fireplace. While he was doing that, Chloe settled onto one of the chairs and poured out wine for both of them. Lucifer joined her as she was taking the first sip, gazing out at the view.

It wasn’t that late yet, but it was fully dark out. The lights strewn below illuminated the clouds drifting in; it was a little chilly, but she was warm enough in her jacket. Combined with the fire casting highlights over the balcony and her partner’s face… it was quite a nice way to eat dinner for the evening.

“You never told me why you were here,” Lucifer said. “Not that I mind, of course I don’t, but you don’t usually show up at night without a reason.”

“Oh, I, um.” She looked down into the glass she still held, trying to figure out what to say. “After today, I just… felt like we should talk. We never really got the chance at the courthouse, and a lot happened, and…” And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what feels right and what I want.

She lost her nerve and took another sip of the wine to cover it up. “Anyway, since when do you call first?” she asked, changing the topic. “You do usually just show up out of the blue.”

This time, Lucifer was the one looking away as he said, “I figured I might not be wanted. I know I messed up before, when… when I left you hanging last time. And while I swear I didn’t tell my m—Charlotte that you were first on the scene, you were right. She only went after this case because of me. It was always going to affect the trial, much as I tried to prevent it. Your father’s killer went free because of me.”

Chloe set her glass back down again. She knew perfectly well just how personal Charlotte’s involvement had been, even if she had no idea why Charlotte wanted to hurt him so much. She still couldn’t figure out what their deal was, though she was starting to believe Lucifer now when he insisted she wasn’t an ex.

Whatever the reason, though, one thing was clear: nothing about the outcome of the trial was Lucifer’s fault.

She didn’t want to talk about the night he’d ghosted her yet, but since he was trying to apologize for it…

She reached across the narrow space between them and put her fingers over his. His eyes flicked back up to her in surprise. “Didn’t you hear what I said at the courthouse?” she asked softly.

He searched her gaze for a moment, that same quiet surprise still on his face. “Yes, but… relying on me for work is one thing, but this is different. I already disappointed you.”

She wove their fingers together and saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “I wasn’t just talking about work. You’re not just my partner when we have a case, and you… you are there for me, Lucifer. You did everything you could to help today. It’s not your fault Charlotte has it out for you.”

“And the other night?” he asked, looking at her as if he was searching for the answer on her face, too.

She thought about asking why he’d ghosted her; if there was a good reason, it would help. But if there wasn’t, she didn’t want to hear it. So she said, “Well, we’re here now, right? Let’s just forget about it.”

He let out a breath, the faintest smile on his lips. But it was one that spoke volumes.

It struck her then how well she knew him, that she knew this particular smile at all, that she knew how real it was compared to those megawatt smiles he dished out all the time. There was no performance in it, just raw truth.

Heart suddenly beating faster than it had any reason to, she let go of his hand and drank more of the wine, needing something to distract her. “So, what did you order for us?” she asked.

Just as Lucifer opened his mouth to reply, the soft chime of the elevator reached them through the open door. His smile broadened. “Perfect timing. Come and see.”

She set her wine down again and followed him inside, then took the bag from the delivery guy while Lucifer fished out a hundred dollar bill from his jacket pocket. “Keep the change,” he said, ushering the man back into the elevator while he sputtered a thank you.

The bag was simple, and whatever it held smelled amazing. She opened it to see two containers with half-raised holes punched along the top of the clear lids. She could just see into the first one. “What is this, burgers and fries?”

After seeing the restaurant they’d almost eaten at, she hadn’t been expecting this. It would probably end up being the best burger she’d ever had, but still.

“Yes.” Lucifer glanced at her, as if to check for her reaction. “I figured something simple and casual would be best, all things considered. If you’d rather something else, though—”

She quickly shook her head. “No, this is great. Just as long as there’s no mayo on it. And hopefully no ketchup.” She made a face.

Lucifer grinned and got out a small stack of paper napkins from the bar. “Don’t worry, I would never order mayo on a burger. Ketchup, though… I may have requested extra.” She was just about to comment on that when she caught the glimmer in his eyes. “…for me,” he finished. “In the form of packets for fries. I know how weird you are when it comes to ketchup, Detective.”

She laughed. “Okay, then I guess it’s perfect.”

They took it back out to the balcony and reclaimed their seats. The food was still warm, her mouth watering as soon as she popped the cover off of her container. She’d been hungry before, but now her stomach was well and truly coming to life.

She ate one of the fries first, crispy on the outside with a light dusting of seasoning. “Wow, these are good,” she said, and ate two more.

“They are, aren’t they? It’s from a family-owned restaurant a few streets from here.”

“One of your favors?”

“No, actually. I offered to help them branch out, but they’re happy as they are. And doing well for themselves.”

“Someone turning down a favor from the great Lucifer Morningstar?” she teased. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He laughed a little. “It does happen on occasion. You should know—you’ve turned down plenty of offers from me before.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t turn down this one,” she said.

There was that little smile again.

She turned to the burger, trying that, too. Just as delicious.

They ate in quiet for a minute, and then Lucifer said, “So, about what you said, about secrets…” She swallowed the mouthful she’d been chewing, looking up at him in surprise. He picked at a fry without actually making to eat it. “If there’s something you really want to know, you can ask.”

That was one of the last things she’d have expected to hear from him tonight. “Oh, I didn’t… I wasn’t actually trying to pry, Lucifer. I know you have secrets, but they’re yours to keep or share. There’s nothing I think you’re hiding that would change things for me, and I don’t want to force you to talk about something if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, as you’ve said.” He finished off the last of his wine and refilled both their glasses. “But still, I find that I don’t… I don’t like having so many secrets from you that you think about it that way, Detective. It feels… dishonest. Especially after what you said at the courthouse today. I just want you to know that I do trust you, too.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “If there’s something you want to tell me, go ahead. I’m listening.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just that if you do have a question, you’re welcome to ask it.”

She considered that for another moment as she ate more of the burger. Despite his last claim, she kind of thought that maybe he did want to tell her things, but didn’t know how to start. In her experience, when there was a difficult topic at hand, it was generally easier to answer questions than to talk freely. Maybe he was subconsciously leaning into that.

And the truth was, she did have a lot of questions she’d love to get answers for. No one was more of an enigma than Lucifer, and his actions confused her more and more by the day. Now here he was, saying he’d finally talk to her.

Whether she actually got anything useful was another story, but… why not try? This was what she’d wanted, right? She’d come here hoping for an explanation to something she’d been fairly certain was another secret he’d never share.

Did asking me to dinner the other night really mean nothing to you? Is this dinner really just to make up for an absence and nothing more?

The questions danced on the tip of her tongue, but she held them back. She just… couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. If the answer wasn’t what she wanted to hear, she’d rather wait until later. Or never.

So she decided to start with something easier. “You’re wealthy as all hell, right?”

Lucifer let out his breath in a burst of surprise and laughter. “Yes, I suppose that’s a fairly accurate way to describe it. Though I have to admit, that is not the question I was expecting to hear.”

She shrugged, reaching for the wine. Opening the doors to this sort of conversation definitely called for it. “Well, I’m curious, and you’re offering. Where did you get all that money? From your family?”

He snorted. “Definitely not. They wouldn’t have offered me a dime, if they cared about that kind of thing, which they don’t.”

Yeah, that fit with what Chloe had been thinking, but then it made the question of where that wealth had come from even more of a mystery. Running a single nightclub like Lux hardly raked in the dough. She knew that well enough from having Dan look through his books.

“No, the money’s just been accumulating over millennia,” he said. “I obtained bits of it here and there, along with some objects that ended up becoming valuable. And nowadays you humans have a ridiculously abstract system of turning money into more money just by having it in the first place. It’s quite easy to get more.”

Chloe ate more of the burger while she tried to parse through that nonsensical reply. So, she probably wasn’t getting much in the way of full honesty, but at least she’d likely get some real answers, if she could overlook the metaphors. “The favors you do,” she said. “Makes sense. Much as I hate to admit you have charm, it’s not something that necessarily requires money, so you work your connections and get people to do things. Money makes its way back to you, and it builds up over time… yeah.”

He sighed. “That’s not inaccurate, but it’s thoroughly missing the main point here.”

“The part about it happening over millennia? Yes, I’ve decided to ignore that part.”

He reached over and swiped the last of her fries. “Fine, then. Why aren’t you rich?”

“Excuse me?” she said, mouth dropping open.

“You heard me.”

“Who asks someone why they’re poor?” she said incredulously.

“I didn’t say poor, I said not rich. Your mother had a fair amount of fame and clearly had enough money to live in that beach house. So why don’t you?”

Chloe downed more of the wine. “She’s not that wealthy. I have a pretty decent safety net, but it’s not like I expect her to just give it all to me.”

He nodded, considering her reply. “Fair enough.”

She finished eating her burger, feeling pleasantly full and little light around the edges, courtesy of the two glasses of wine she’d had. “I have another question.”

“Yes?”

“What’s really going on with you and Charlotte?”

“Ah,” he said carefully. “That. Yes.” He finished off his second glass too, and poured them a third round while he answered, emptying the bottle. “I really haven’t slept with her, Detective. Nothing in this world would ever get that to happen.”

“I believe you,” she said.

He glanced up. “You do?”

“Yeah.”

He never lied, as unlikely as this claim had seemed to her, and after what Charlotte had offered her in the courthouse, she was fairly certain they had a complicated relationship at best. It didn’t fit with them just having a fling.

He nodded. “She’s… well. She’s family, in… in a way.”

Still not giving her the full truth, but that was more information than she’d had a minute ago. And explained a lot. “Oh,” she said. “I’m guessing you don’t get along.”

“You could say that, yes. She says she wants the best for me, but her idea of what’s best is rather skewed. Ever since she turned back up in my life, she’s been finding ways to make it harder. But I can’t get rid of her either.”

“Yep, that’s about how it works with family,” Chloe said.

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “Just, suffice it to say, in any conflict with the both of you, I would be on your side, Detective. Always.”

Chloe suddenly had to swallow around a lump in her throat, utterly caught by surprise.

“She makes it difficult, but I do try to do the right thing,” he added.

“I know,” she said. “That’s something I never doubt.”

She held his gaze for another moment, still caught up in that wash of emotion. There were a million things she didn’t understand about her partner or how he sometimes acted, but that was true, wasn’t it? He was always on her side, just as she always tried to be on his.

A gust of wind hit them, threatening to send the containers and napkins flying. They scrambled to hold them down, laughing a little, the tension broken. The wind had been steadily picking up as they sat out there, still mild enough to ignore, but if it kept up…

She rubbed at her arms. The warmth from the fireplace and her jacket could only do so much. “Mind if we go inside?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said easily. He put the containers into the bag along with the empty bottle, while Chloe grabbed both their glasses to carry inside.

The penthouse instantly enveloped her in warmth. She let out a breath and sat on the couch, while Lucifer went to drop off the trash by the bar. “So, I believe it’s my turn to ask a question,” he said.

“I didn’t realize we were taking turns, but okay.”

“I’m aware that I was the only one who put all my secrets on offer, but I find I’m curious about some things, too. You don’t have to answer, though.”

She waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not like you hold your tongue ever. Might as well.” She took another sip of the wine, dimly thinking that it was probably already loosening her own tongue a little, but so what? She wanted to hear his questions almost as much as she wanted to hear the answers to hers.

“Be honest, Detective,” he said, heading back over to her. “Have you and Maze had sex yet?”

Chloe almost spat out the wine. She caught herself just in time, choking a little as she hastily swallowed it down instead.

“Oh, dear,” Lucifer said cheerfully. He switched directions to move behind the couch and patted her back. “That was quite the reaction. Should I take that as a yes?”

So much for the insight she’d been hoping for. She twisted to face him, moving just enough to break the contact he’d had on her back. “No, you shouldn’t take that as a yes. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“I told you, I’ve been curious. Not even a little?”

“You can go ahead and stop being curious, because that is not happening any more than me sleeping with you is happening,” she said, shaking her head.

“So a distinct possibility. Got it.”

Maybe two minutes ago, she might have admitted—to herself if not to Lucifer—that it was a slim possibility now, but after that? Forget it. “Zero percent chance,” she told him.

“We’ll see.” The light in his eyes told her it was a joke, just like usual.

Right. She had to stop thinking any of this meant anything to him, because it didn’t. She would only set herself up for more disappointment.

She reached for the wine again, ignoring the voice in her head telling her she’d regret drinking more later. “I have an actual serious question,” she said, as Lucifer moved around the couch to sit next to her.

“Yes, Detective?”

“What happened to make you so…” She searched for the word. “So self-destructive? On Halloween, and after…”

He froze from where he’d been setting a glass of scotch on the coffee table, next to the remainder of her wine. “You do know how to pick them,” he said.

She swallowed, realizing she’d crossed the line with that one. He might have said he was an open book tonight, but there was still a line. There always was. “You don’t have to answer that one either,” she said.

He just looked at her. “But you want to know.”

She didn’t deny it, because she did want to know. She’d been scared for him, trying to reach out, being met with an armored wall every time. She’d never seen him like that before or since. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good, and she wished he’d been able to let her in then. Now, too.

He drained his glass of scotch—wow, she was making him go through alcohol almost as much as he was making her do the same—and said, “I killed someone.”

For a second she just stared at him, the words taking a second to process. “What?” she blurted.

“I killed someone,” he repeated.

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“But… but you…” There had to be something she was missing. Lucifer didn’t go around killing people. He didn’t lie, but this…

“You wanted to know, well, there it is,” he said. “My brother was going to kill you and my mother, so I fought back, and that’s how it ended.”

She let out a long, slow breath. There it was, the missing piece. “Self-defense,” she said. “While protecting people…” Her mind circled back to the first part. His brother? But Amenadiel was definitely alive. She guessed it was entirely possible he had other siblings, since she knew nothing else about his family.

“Yes. Though it didn’t feel nearly so noble at the time.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she said quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you. And—and it could be a problem, if they find evidence and you didn’t—”

“It won’t be a problem,” he said. “My brother isn’t human. There’s no one to report it.”

She’d been about to ask what he’d done with the body, but at that, all her concern faded. Not human. So, another metaphor, then. She was left with even more questions now, but she wouldn’t get any real answers. So she didn’t ask.

“Have you ever dealt with guilt like that? From killing someone?” he asked quietly. Any levity had fled from the conversation; whether he’d really killed someone or not, she could tell he desperately needed to hear her answer. That it was important to him.

“Yes,” she said. “Well, not that strongly, I think, but yes. I had a hard time when I first killed someone.” It’d been a few years ago. “Someone I was about to arrest pulled a gun on an innocent bystander, and I wasn’t able to talk him down. I called an ambulance right after, but they couldn’t save him.”

“You had no choice, either,” he murmured. It would have been easy to take insult from it, like he thought she would just kill someone if she had another choice, but she didn’t think that was what he meant at all.

“Yes. That’s what people told me, too, and that I’d saved that girl’s life, but I didn’t feel that way at first. I kept wondering again and again what I could have done differently. It took a while before I could put it behind me.”

He nodded. Turned her words over for a moment. “Is there something you regret?” he asked.

The conversation was still too heavy for that to be a question she could answer flippantly. Her first instinct was to shy away from it, because it was so personal. But here, right now, looking at the openness in his eyes… she felt like she could tell him anything, and he wouldn’t judge.

“Yes,” she said. “I regret what happened with Dan. With Malcolm, and… with what happened after.”

He frowned. “Your divorce? Because that douche manipulating you is hardly your fault.”

“No, I’m not talking about his part in everything—that’s on him. I mean, I regret that I didn’t stand up for myself more. He screwed me over with Malcolm, but even though he told me he was on my side, it was just for show. He didn’t ever stand up for me to other cops. And I told myself that it was understandable—I was even considering getting back together with him, taking those scraps because it was better than nothing.” She looked down into the last of her wine, echos of that shame rippling over her again. “I kept clinging on to the past instead of letting go, and I shouldn’t have.”

“Do you regret marrying him in the first place?” Lucifer asked.

She’d asked herself that question several times before, but the answer always came to her easily. “No. It gave me Trixie, and I could never regret that. It was good at first, it really was. I don’t regret trying to be happy when it comes to that, either. I just… I just should have ended it when it stopped being good.”

“You’re still friends with him, though,” Lucifer said. “How… how did you forgive someone who hurt you?”

Chloe finished the wine while she thought it over. Another question she’d asked herself many times before, when she’d wondered what she was doing, trying yet again to see the good in Dan after he’d hurt her like that. “It’s because he tried to make up for it,” she said. “I think he understands what he did wrong, and that he is trying to do better. He told me the truth in the end and turned himself in, and he hasn’t tried to tell me I should forgive him. We might never be that close again, but it wasn’t worth it to me to cut him out of my life completely. It was for my sake, too.”

“Well, most of that would apply to Mum, but her motivations are much less pure,” Lucifer muttered under his breath. Like he was talking more to himself than to her. “Especially since she doesn’t mind hurting others to get closer to me, including…” He glanced at her sidelong, seeming to realize what he was doing and thinking better of it. “Never mind.”

Damn. Chloe had been holding her breath, hoping he’d finally give her something more concrete about his past. Mum… so his mother had hurt him, if he was debating whether to forgive her or not. And apparently had hurt others too. But he was holding back, as usual.

She let her breath out, thinking. If they were spilling secrets tonight, then maybe…

Lucifer got to his feet, leaning just a hair too far to the side before he corrected his balance. “I need more scotch,” he said.

“Get me one, too.” It didn’t come out like a request, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. He just moved two fingers to the side in a lazy little salute.

“Of course, Detective.”

She was much warmer now than she’d been outside, both from the heated air and from the flush of warmth spread all over her body. She shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it further down the couch, then ran a hand through her hair, raking it back from her face.

“Here you are,” Lucifer said, handing over a glass half full of amber liquid. She swallowed some of it, warmed all the more from the pleasant burn of the scotch.

“My turn,” she said, and he nodded. “Those scars on your back.”

He stilled for just a second before clearing his throat. “Yes?”

“Did your parents do that to you?”

He shook his head. “I told you, I asked Maze to do it.”

Chloe simply couldn’t picture her roommate doing that to him. Well, she could picture Maze acting like she would, but the act itself? Actually taking a knife to his skin, or burning him, or whatever had really happened… To Lucifer, someone she was close to… And for no reason other than to hurt, because there was no other reason to do something like that. She said, “I don’t believe that. Even if Maze was involved, I think someone else was too.”

Lucifer just sighed loudly. “Technically, yes, I suppose my father was. In a way.”

“He hurt you,” she said. Stating a fact, but it was a question, too. “Both your parents?”

His jaw clenched. “Yes. In different ways.”

She touched his arm, and he glanced down before meeting her gaze again. “It’s up to you to decide if it’s worth forgiving them,” she said.

He took a drink. “I don’t think I could ever forgive my father, seeing as how he literally put me through hell and then some. My fall, condemning me to that realm, vilifying me for all eternity…” He huffed. “Definitely not enough cheesy noodles in the world for that.”

“What?” Chloe asked, but he kept going as if she hadn’t spoken.

“But Mum… I don’t know. She was hurt by him, too, and unlike him, she’s here. Trying, too, even with her misguided ways. I just…” He turned the glass around in his hands. “I don’t know if it’s real, or if she’s just using me. I don’t know if forgiving her would make things worse or better.”

She squeezed his arm. “I wish I could help. But honestly, I think your family just sucks.”

He snorted. “That they do. So, are you going to ask the obvious question now, too?”

She frowned. “What question?”

“What they did to me. You’ve never asked me that before. You’re curious about everything else, so why not that?”

Of course, she was curious. But she’d never wanted to force him to talk about it, and besides, she already knew what he’d tell her. “Well, they threw you into hell, right?”

Lucifer just raised his brows. “I know you don’t believe that.”

“But that’s what your answer would be even if I asked what really happened.” She let out a breath and drank more of the scotch. “The one secret you’ll never tell me.”

“Because it’s not a secret,” he said. “Although I—” He paused, his brow furrowing. “I guess that’s not me being entirely open, either.”

“Nope,” Chloe agreed, her lips smacking together a little. Despite the heavy conversation, she was feeling too light right now to let it weigh her down for long. “But that’s fine. I’m used to it.”

He was still frowning. Chloe had the bizarre urge to rub that furrow away with her thumb, to make his lips tug up instead of down. She was getting tired of all the frowns. They were supposed to be having a good time tonight, not this.

But as she finished off her drink, the words that came out of their own accord were not ones that would help with that. “Why didn’t you come to the restaurant?” she blurted out. “Why didn’t you even text me to cancel? I waited for you. For a long time. I thought… I thought…”

Shut up, Chloe. Yeah, the drinks had been a big mistake.

But it was too late for that. She couldn’t stop herself now.

“Were you just so busy with other women that you never bothered to look at your phone?” she asked.

His eyes widened. “No. No, I wasn’t—I haven’t slept with anyone since—well, far longer than usual. I wasn’t with anyone.”

Chloe was almost sad to hear it. Not that hearing he’d been engaged with someone else while she’d sat alone at that table would have been good either, but at least she could’ve understood him getting caught up at Lux. “So it just didn’t matter,” she said. “That’s what I thought. Okay. Now I know.”

“Wait, no. It did matter, I just—it’s just that I was afrai—”

“That’s fine,” she said. “I just wanted to clear that up, you know? Okay. Now I really will forget about it.” She stood, the penthouse rippling around her for a second. “My glass is empty. Want some more?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she took a step towards the bar and tripped over Lucifer’s feet.

His hand shot out to grasp her wrist, steadying her. “Maybe not such a good idea,” he said.

She pulled her arm away and kept going, dimly noting that he’d gotten up to follow her. He didn’t seem so graceful now, either. “’s fine,” she said. He was probably right; she’d had enough for one night. But with her face burning the way it was, she couldn’t have stayed sitting next to him like that. This was her excuse.

She spilled some of the scotch as she poured it from the decanter, but only a little. “Can I explain?” he asked.

“No need,” she said, and turned away from him.

“Fine, then.” Lucifer stayed standing by the piano as she moved past him. “I have a question for you now.”

“If it’s not about that, then go ahead.” She sat on the nearest armchair, kicked her shoes off, and swung her legs over the side. That was nice. She could do this, just relax and forget about what she really wanted right now. She could.

“Were you jealous? When you thought Ella and I were an item?”

Oh, come on. Why did he always have to make everything so much harder than it needed to be?

If he got to answer questions with misdirect, she would too. “It was annoying,” she told him. “I didn’t want to deal with that.”

She didn’t like the little grin of amusement that was playing across his face. “Is that so,” he said.

“Yes. It is so.”

“And there wasn’t anything more to it than disdain for workplace liaisons?”

“Liaisons are meaningless,” she said. “My turn. Would you ever want to be in an actual relationship?”

He hummed a little, slowly moving around the piano. His eyes were locked on hers the whole time. “Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. Never thought I’d want to. But now, I think… I think it would depend on the person.”

She swallowed, her face flushed. She was in so much trouble.

He made for the couch again, but hit the side and all but fell onto it. It was a good thing he’d left his drink on the coffee table. A garbled sort of noise left his throat. “Ugh. Something appears to be wrong with me.”

“Yeah, you’re drunk too,” she informed him.

His eyes traveled around the room. They were glassy and not focused quite right. “I do believe you’re right,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Course I am. It’s pretty simple.”

“I’m not used to being drunk off so little alcohol,” he said. “It’s a bit new to me, but I suppose this vulnerability thing has some perks.”

She scoffed. “Let me guess. You don’t usually get drunk, because you’re the devil.”

“Well, yes. That’s precisely it.”

“Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“It is true, Detective,” he said. “All right. My next question. Why do you always refuse to believe me? Is it just because you don’t believe the devil could exist? Or because you would be afraid if I was?”

There was almost a challenge in his expression. She said, “I don’t believe it because you’re just not like that. If the devil is real, you wouldn’t be him. There’s no way.”

He leaned forward, tilting his head a little. “You don’t see me like that,” he murmured.

“Of course I don’t. Cause you’re not. And also, I just don’t think the devil actually is real, so yeah. Hard to believe.”

He leaned back again, relaxing now. “You need proof.”

“Proof would be nice, yes. That’s generally how things work around here.”

That little smile was back. “I did try, you know. I tried to prove I’m invulnerable, which didn’t work.”

She waved her still-full glass out haphazardly. “Wow, getting shot hurts. Shocker.”

He ignored that. “You’d have to tell me why you didn’t believe me after I died.”

Chloe looked away, because she still didn’t have an answer for that one. The biggest piece she couldn’t make fit. Trying to tell herself it didn’t matter had been working out about as well as telling herself to forget about him ghosting her. On some level, she couldn’t stop wondering.

“And, and.” Lucifer’s brow was furrowing again, in concentration this time. “There’s my devil face, but… no.”

She looked back up at him. “Devil face?” she repeated.

He waved his hand. “Yes. What I look like when I need to put the fear of the devil in a soul. Or a demon.”

Chloe straightened a little. Brief flickers of memory ran through her mind. A reflection of something red and inhuman, sudden terror from suspects…

“Why not show me that, then?” she asked, feeling like her heart was racing. She’d dismissed it before, but with Lucifer bringing it up like this, when she’d never mentioned anything like that to him… What if it was real? What if she could finally get proof? For some reason it was sounding a lot more likely now than it usually did.

“Because you’d be afraid, too.” He spoke with such finality, like there was no doubt in his mind she’d be just as terrified as everyone else.

“No, I won’t,” she told him.

“Yes, you will. You’re human. That’s just how it works.”

“Nuh-uh,” she said, and then tried to figure out how she’d ended up doing a one-eighty on this. Five minutes ago, she’d been sure it was a metaphor. And now it was like she believed, if not that he really was the devil, then that he could prove to her that he was something. That he really did have some kind of devil face and all he needed to do was let her see. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

She set her drink down and got up, moving around the coffee table to sit next to him on the couch again. Lucifer just watched her, apprehensive.

“I bet you one thousand—one thousand million dollars that I won’t be afraid.”

“That’s quite the claim, considering as how we just confirmed you’re not rich.”

“Just do it,” she told him. “I dare you. Don’t be a chicken.”

He looked at her incredulously. “That is not why—”

But he broke off, and Chloe decided it was because he’d realized it would be a lie. “Unless you don’t actually have a devil face to show me?”

“Oh, I definitely do.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

A blink, and Chloe finally saw it for herself. Not just as a distorted reflection, but up close and personal, from only a foot away.

He hadn’t been lying. Devil face was pretty much the only way to describe it.

It was red, all right, and scarred. Like his back, but a thousand times worse. Still fresh and raw, shifting and moving as Lucifer swallowed and raised his head a little.

That really was Lucifer behind it. Her partner.

Behind those eyes, which were like living flame, alight and alive. Full of emotion. Cunning and intelligent.

No wonder everyone had been instantly terrified to see it.

“Wow,” she breathed, and reached up to touch it.

He shied back a little, and her fingers met the usual scruff on his jaw instead of whatever that other face was made of. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Sorry. Does it hurt?”

“Does… what?” He blinked at her, nonplussed.

She shook her head. “Right, I should have remembered. From your back.” She realized she was still awkwardly touching his face, and let her hand fall away. “So that… you really are the devil? But… I still don’t get it. You’re not like that.”

Lucifer was just staring at her. “As I keep saying, everyone gets it wrong. I—are you all right?”

“Are you all right?”

“You’re really not afraid?”

“No. Like I said, you’re not like that. I know a secret no one else knows.”

He finally started to relax a little. “That I’m not evil,” he said.

“I know you,” she told him, far more boldly than it warranted. “Those other people don’t.”

“Linda knew me when I showed her, too, and she was afraid.”

Linda? She tucked that bit of information away. “Well, then, I guess Linda just isn’t as awesome as me.”

His lips slowly lifted into a smile. “I guess she isn’t. I would have shown you a long time ago if I’d known it would be this easy. Makes for quite the nice change.”

She lightly pressed her fist into his shoulder. “Yeah, you should have shown me. You’re kind of awesome, too. My best friend is the devil. Wow, I never thought I’d be saying that like I believed it.”

“I’m your best friend?” he asked, as if in wonder.

She didn’t have time for this. There were a million questions she had first. “Yes. Do you have superpowers?”

He clucked his tongue. “No, Detective, I don’t have superpowers. I’m not a comic book character.”

She snapped her fingers. “No, but wait, you do. Your mojo.”

He leaned back into the couch cushions. “It’s not a superpower. It’s totally different.”

“Sure, it is. Except it doesn’t work on me for some reason. How come? What makes me so special?” She looked down at her hands. “Do I have superpowers?”

“Not to my knowledge, although I don’t have any other explanation, so who knows?” He shrugged. “You’re special for many reasons, Detective, and that’s only one of them. You’re also weird, you know.”

“Yeah, probably,” she said. “But then what does that say about you? You choose to hang out with me.”

He laughed. “Very true. What can I say? I find I like spending time with one weird, special, funny, compassionate, brilliant detective.”

“You were right,” she said. “We had a connection.”

Shit. She’d been falling for the devil.

And she didn’t even really care. She’d seen that face only a few minutes ago, but it was still too hard to match it to the man—being—devil in front of her. It hadn’t changed anything in the slightest, had it?

If that made her weird, then fine. She would just be weird.

“So why are you even here?” she asked.

“I happen to live here. Are you so drunk you forgot that fact?”

“You know what I mean.”

He grinned. “Because my only other option is hell, which sucks. I got sick and tired of doing what I was told and willingly going back every time I wanted a break, so I decided to stay on Earth instead. Quit hell for good. I cut my wings off and everything.”

“You really did cut them off,” she said, quiet now. “That’s so sad. I wish I could’ve seen them.”

“You saw the replica.”

“Mmm. I’m sure it would’ve been different. Wait—we never found the real ones. Does that mean angel wings are out there somewhere? Wait again. You cut them off and then you kept them? That’s so…” She tried to search for the words to describe it, but they were beyond her at the moment.

Lucifer said, “I was keeping them, and I did find them after they were stolen. And then I burned them, as I should have done from the start.”

“That’s sad, too,” she said. And then she realized. “Maze. She cut them off for you, and—she’s a demon? That explains a lot, but—that means I really live with a demon. Oh my god. Oh my God. God is real, too?”

Lucifer’s face twisted like he’d tasted something unpleasant. “Unfortunately.”

“He’s real and he just… what? Sits up in heaven doing nothing?”

The expression evened out a little. “Something like that, yes.”

“After he sent you to hell. What the fuck? Who does that? He… you…” She was struggling for the words again. “Fucked up,” she said. “That is fucked up. No wonder you hate him.”

There was clear amusement on Lucifer’s face now. “Couldn’t agree more. I’m glad you’re on my side with that, Detective.”

“Uh, yeah, of course I’m on your side. And your… your mom? How do you have a mom?”

“Well, when two gods meet and decide to celebrate not being alone anymore…”

“Lucifer, come on.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say about that, Detective. Much as my father likes to be considered the only god in existence, he’s not.”

“Okay,” she said, considering that for a moment. “Now I have two gods to be mad at. Got it. And hell… that’s actually real, too. You’ve been there.”

He snorted. “Been there? I ran the place. Do not recommend.”

“You were there a lot,” she said, the full implication of what she’d said before finally hitting her. He’d been condemned to hell, had been forced to remain there for a long, long time. Only the last six years had he been here, if she could go by those records she’d found.

“Eons,” he said. “I didn’t exactly have any other choice. Rebellion, big fall. That part is true, though if you ask me, the punishment didn’t fit the crime.” He hesitated. “You haven’t asked me that yet. What I did.”

She hadn’t, but…

She reached up to touch his face again. Slowly, deliberately. Just a light press of her fingers against his cheek. “I don’t need to know,” she said. “I know you, remember? And I know there’s nothing you could possibly have done to deserve that.”

He just looked at her, his eyes bright.

Chloe leaned forward and hugged him, squeezing him tight for a second before settling in to just hold him. “I’m sorry you went through that,” she said.

He cleared his throat, just a little. “No need for any fuss. I’m here now. It’s done with.”

“Right,” she said. “I’m glad. Don’t go back. I don’t want you to leave.” He wouldn’t, right? He’d decided to be here on Earth. With her.

Another moment, and she felt his arms slowly wrap around her, too. “Okay,” he said. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Good. I don’t want to go anywhere, either.”

“Then don’t,” he said softly. He shifted a little, drawing her into a position that was more comfortable for the both of them. She settled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Yes, staying here is a good idea,” she said. Drowsiness was starting to tug at her; between all the drinks, the warmth from Lucifer, and that sense of security she always had in his arms, the rush of excitement from seeing his devil face was fading away. “Right here. With you.”

“You should stay the night anyway,” he said. “Unless you absolutely need to get home.”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll stay.” Her mom had been watching Trixie—for once, she didn’t think she’d need to worry about it, not with what’d happened today—and Dan had promised to pick her up after taking care of something personal.

“Then come on, Detective,” he said, beginning to sit up with her. She made a noise of protest, but he said, “We should get you to the bed before you pass out on me this time.”

There were probably a thousand reasons why she should refuse, but she didn’t. “Okay.”

They got up, Lucifer’s arm twining with hers as he took her hand. She didn’t refuse that, either.

“Would you like pajamas, or would you prefer to strip again? I have to say, I’m fine with either option.”

“Pajamas,” she said. “But I don’t have any.”

He helped her up the stairs and led her to the closet. “I’ll find something for you.”

A minute later he had his back turned as she pulled on leggings he’d insisted were brand new. But instead of the top he’d laid out to go with it, she reached for one of his dress shirts. It was large and smelled like Lucifer and had no business being that soft. Definitely the right choice.

When she was done, she said, “Okay, you can look.”

He turned, and blinked in surprise. Then he smiled. “That works, too.”

She padded out to the bedroom, and Lucifer pulled the covers aside. She sat and tried to tug him down with her.

“Detective?” he asked, sitting next to her.

“I don’t wanna hog the bed this time,” she said.

He let out a breath, holding her gaze for a long, long moment. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

She waited as he disappeared into the closet, returned in a dress robe, and turned off the lights. Then she got into bed, facing Lucifer on her side while he got in, too. There was just enough light from the bar wall to see him.

For a moment they just looked at each other.

“I love seeing you in that shirt,” he said quietly, his voice low.

She stretched out a hand, and his fingers curled around hers. “I was jealous,” she whispered. “With you and Ella.”

His eyes were so dark, but even in that dim lighting, they shone. “I was hoping that was the case.”

She didn’t think it was just because it was fun for him to watch her embarrass herself. There was only so long she could deny it.

He asked, “Would you still be jealous now that you know who I really am? No. The real question is, would you want to be?”

“Yes,” she said. “To both.”

Nothing she’d done all evening to convince herself she was fine with remaining as they were was working. She still wanted him. All of him.

“I change my mind,” she said. “I want to know. Why you weren’t at the restaurant.”

He said, “I was terrified.”

Terrified? After all his surety that she would be scared of him, he’d been the one afraid? “Of what?”

“Of how badly I wanted to be there with you. Of how much you mean to me. After you left Lux, I realized that I’d found everything I didn’t even know I was looking for, with you. I’ve never had a home, or real friendship, or someone who makes me feel like I belong. Now I do. You mean… you mean everything to me. And I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

For days she’d been telling herself it’d meant nothing to him, when it’d meant the world. When she meant the world to him.

All those things he’d said were even more heartbreaking now that she knew he really was the devil. Thousands of years of being alone, until she’d walked into his life. He’d changed hers just as much.

She squeezed his fingers. “How about we try it again, without the misunderstandings this time?”

He smiled. “Yes. I’d like that.”

She fell asleep soon after that, still holding his hand.

Chapter Text

Chloe opened her eyes and blinked against the light. So much more of it than she usually woke up to. Her head felt awful, slow and pounding dully with a headache. She could’ve killed for a glass of water.

And then the sight in front of her finally registered. She sat up in a panic, instinctively clutching the sheets to her before she realized she was dressed.

In one of Lucifer’s dress shirts.

Because she was in Lucifer’s bed.

Shit. Shit, shit shit…

Lucifer was still asleep next to her, which was probably the only blessing she had. She raked her hair back from her face and winced as her body reminded her of just how much of a wreck she felt. Hungover. What the hell had happened last night? She’d come over to talk to Lucifer and stayed for dinner, and then—

She remembered the rest all at once. The wine and scotch. Question after question as they talked more openly than they ever had. Lucifer showing her his other face. Getting emotional and…

She buried her face in her hands. She’d all but confessed her feelings to him. And he… he pretty much had confessed his feelings.

Aw, hell—

Hell. Hell was real, wasn’t it? That devil face had been real. She was pretty sure it’d happened and that it wasn’t just some drunken imagination. It was hard to picture it now, with Lucifer asleep and daylight streaming into the penthouse, but the memory of it was too vivid. She believed it now.

Chloe stared at him, frozen, barely breathing. Her heart was pounding, which was so not helping with her headache.

Lucifer really was the devil, and she wouldn’t be able to go back to pretending he wasn’t.

I bet you one thousand—one thousand million dollars that I won’t be afraid.

And she really hadn’t been at all last night.

Was she now?

She thought about it for a minute, but… no, she didn’t think she was. It just felt like she was being slammed in the face with the truth he’d told her all along, one that changed everything she thought she knew about the world. There was so much more out there than she’d thought.

Almost immediately she shut that line of thinking down. She couldn’t handle a crisis about heaven and hell and God a minute after waking up like this. It was too much. First she had to deal with her current predicament and the part of it that was lying two feet away from her.

What was she supposed to do now?

She let out a long breath, trying to think.

The better question, maybe, was what was she supposed to do differently?

She already knew him. They were already close. He’d helped her into bed last night, and she’d asked him to stay with her knowing everything. She’d told him she wanted to stay with him.

She was so screwed.

That part was affecting her more than the fact that he was the devil, and didn’t that speak volumes? She really was falling in love with the actual devil, and even sober, she didn’t mind in the slightest.

Lucifer had been right. She was weird.

She looked over again, studying him. The line of his jaw, the dark lashes just kissing his cheeks, the slight part of his mouth, the rise and fall of his chest. His expression was so open and soft in sleep, his hair disheveled on the pillow.

So beautiful. So utterly unlike that face of hellfire she’d seen last night.

She knew factually that it was true, that he’d literally run hell, that he wasn’t human. But he looked very human right then. She’d seen him do things that no human could do, but she’d seen so much more from him that said otherwise. It was a large part of why she hadn’t been able to accept it. Even just last night, he’d been incredibly human. Seeing that face wasn’t a contradiction, either. It wasn’t evil. It was just Lucifer.

So if the devil was Lucifer, then the devil must not be so bad.

Okay. So she clearly wouldn’t be freaking out about that part. But the other issue at hand…

She was still left with the fact that she was waking up in his bed, again. Lucifer saying those things last night didn’t negate how embarrassing she’d acted last night. And he’d been drunk, too. What if he regretted it? What if he took it back?

She gingerly pushed the covers back a bit and tried to slide her legs over the side without waking him. She wanted to have a minute to put herself together before—

“Detective?”

Crap.

She froze for a second and then glanced over at him. He seemed to be going through the same emotional rollercoaster she’d just experienced. His face was blank at first, and then his brow furrowed in confusion before his eyes widened as he realized.

They looked at each other for a moment in complete stillness, a world of meaning suspended in their gaze.

And then he sat up. She quickly got out of bed as he did so.

Something like hurt flashed across his face. “Detective—”

“I need a minute,” she said. “Be right back.”

She fled to the bathroom to collect herself. She really had to pee, and then she took her time washing her face and twisting her hair back as best she could with a random ponytail holder she found in a drawer. When she had no other excuses to be in there, she gazed at herself in the mirror and took a deep breath. Okay. She could do this.

She went back out to the bedroom, only to find he’d gone down to the main room. He must have moved quickly, because he was already dressed in slacks and a dress shirt. She glanced down at the one she’d taken last night, trying to figure out if she should’ve changed back into her own clothes. Too late now.

His back was to her as he collected their glasses from the living room, setting two of them down on top of the piano with soft clinks. The others were already there, and since moving them to the piano was pointless, she couldn’t help wondering if he was just fiddling with them for something to do.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Still looking firmly at the glasses, he asked, “Do you remember everything from last night?”

She swallowed. “Yes. I think so, anyway.”

“So,” he said. “Have you changed your mind?”

“What?”

He turned to her, a tightly controlled expression in place. For a second she thought he was upset with her, but then she realized it was fear.

He looked like he could barely breathe.

“You seemed… okay with—with me. Last night. But as you weren’t yourself, I’d understand if that’s changed. I won’t hold you to your claim, you know.” One half of his mouth lifted in a thin smile, but Chloe saw right through it.

She said, “I keep my word, too. So I guess it’s a good thing I wouldn’t need to pay up anyway.”

His mouth opened. Closed again.

She took a step towards him. “I’m not the one who’s afraid right now.”

“You’re really not?”

She gave him what she hoped was a real smile. “Yeah.”

The tension in his body visibly eased. “I thought you were already running,” he said. “I thought…”

“I just needed a minute before we got into it, since, you know. There’s kind of a lot to talk about.”

He nodded, looking a little dazed, but she thought it was in a good way. “Yes, I suppose there is. Would you, ah… would you like breakfast? Coffee? Hair of the dog?”

“Breakfast and coffee, but there better not be a single drop of booze in it,” she said.

His expression eased that much more. “All right, then.”

So once again he ordered them food on his phone. “Do you have any aspirin?” she asked. She hadn’t thought to look for any while she was in the bathroom.

“Yes, far left drawer.”

She took a clean glass, filled it with water from the bathroom sink, and popped an aspirin. Then she took the bottle with her back to the main room. “Want some?”

He grimaced. “For the first time ever, yes, I think that would be helpful. Is this what a hangover feels like?”

She grinned and handed over the bottle. “If you feel like crap? Then yes. That would be what a hangover’s like.”

He swallowed it dry. “So much for the benefits of being vulnerable. I’m glad I don’t usually have to deal with this, but…” He gave her an odd sort of look. “Perhaps I’ll be getting used to it.”

“Vulnerable,” she said, recalling more of their conversations from the night before. He’d kept mentioning that it was new to him, like he didn’t usually get hurt. And honestly, that was one major question she still had about him. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, I… well, my siblings and I are generally unable to be hurt by normal human means. Physically, at least. Blades don’t cut us, bullets bounce off, and it takes quite a lot of alcohol to overwhelm our metabolism—for a short time only.”

“So you really don’t get drunk that much,” she said.

“No. Even when I do, by the time I wake up, I’m good as new.”

“Okay, but—you did just get drunk, and that’s two bullets now that didn’t bounce off, and yet you walked away from that hangar like it was nothing. All that blood, and…” She looked at his stomach, where she’d seen that blood soaking his shirt. Even now, that piece didn’t quite fit.

“That’s because as it turns out, you make me vulnerable, Detective. Literally. When I’m around you, nothing I just said applies anymore.”

She stared at him, mouth dropping open. The devil apparently could only get hurt when he was with her—because of her—and yet he was stating that fact like it wasn’t a big deal. “Why?” she asked. “How—but I’m not trying to, I—”

“I don’t think it’s anything you’re doing on purpose, but other than that…” He shrugged. “I don’t know how, or why.”

“So when I shot you… you really weren’t expecting it to hurt you,” she said.

“No.”

“But—” Her mind was scrambling, running through random bits and pieces of memory, trying to reframe everything she’d thought she’d known about him. “But that first case, you got shot and nothing happened. At least I don’t think anything happened…”

He frowned. “I’ve been wondering about that, too, but truly I have no idea why that first time was different. Every other time I could’ve gotten hurt around you, I did.”

She shook her head, still trying to process that. “Then why be around me at all? I almost got you killed. You don’t have to worry about dealing with that, so why—”

“Because I want to,” he said. So simply. Like it was a fundamental truth of the universe. Water brought life, gravity existed, and Lucifer wanted to be around her whether he got hurt or not.

He’d been doing it for a while now, too.

Maybe he hadn’t just said those things last night because he was drunk.

“And me getting killed wasn’t your fault,” he went on.

“Of course it was. It would never have happened if not for me.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault.”

Chloe pressed her lips together, fully aware that she’d argued that exact line of logic last night when Lucifer had said her father’s killer going free was his fault. She had a feeling Lucifer was remembering it, too. “Okay, but I still—wait.”

The way he’d phrased that, like he actually had gotten killed—and wasn’t that what he’d said at the time, too? That Malcolm had killed him, but he’d gotten better? “You actually died?”

“Yes. I had a bit of divine intervention on that one to bring me back. Unlikely to ever be repeated, though.”

“So if you got shot again right now, you’d die and stay dead.”

“Probably, yes.”

She really should’ve waited until after she’d had her coffee to start asking questions. He’d died right in front of her, and apparently it was only by sheer luck that he was standing in front of her now. No wonder that moment had never made sense to her. “What divine intervention?” she asked.

“I made a deal with my father, and to fulfill my end of it, I needed to be on Earth. So… here I am.”

“To do what? And if you didn’t bargain for your life, what did you ask for?”

His gaze swept hers for a moment. “For my father to protect you.”

He’d been dying, and still he’d been thinking of her more than himself. He’d asked his father, the person he hated most, for a deal—for her. “Why?” she breathed.

He took a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them. “I told you last night,” he said quietly.

You mean everything to me.

She believed him. About all of it.

She meant more to the devil than his own life.

How was she supposed to deal with that? Why was it harder to accept that than her own feelings?

She swallowed and took a step back, looking away. “You never said, what he asked you to do in return. Are you only here on a mission, or something? Are you going to have to leave when it’s done?”

That thought was unbearable, too.

“No,” he said. “Or I don’t think so, at least. That’s kind of always an open threat with me, and the terms of our deal were rather vague, but I have no intention of returning to hell.”

She nodded, letting out a breath. Okay. At least there was that.

“As far as I can tell, my father wants me to do something about my mother, who escaped hell right around the same time.”

Chloe whipped her head up again. “What?”

They had talked about his mother last night, but that hadn’t yet earned her attention this morning. Crap. He’d said there were two gods, but— “What do you mean, your mom escaped hell?”

“My father had her imprisoned there after she took out her anger issues on humanity.” He gave her a humorless smile. “Are you sure you want to know everything?”

“What is that, God’s go-to move? Piss him off and bam, hell for you?”

“Yes, pretty much. That is the general concept behind the existence of hell.”

“Your family really does suck,” she told him, and his smile turned a little more real. “So what’s going on with your mother, exactly?”

“She folded her power away to find me on Earth, which made the task of finding her rather easy. Currently she’s inhabiting the body of Charlotte Richards while trying to win me over.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped all the way open at that. “Charlotte is your mom?”

The elevator opened off to the side, and someone said, “Lucifer Morningstar? Got your breakfast order here.”

Lucifer moved off to deal with that, but she just stayed looking at the spot where he’d been standing, trying to process the fact that she’d been going head to head with not just Lucifer’s mother, but an actual god. Goddess?

A goddess was off impersonating an attorney for some reason she still wasn’t clear on. She’d gone to the trouble of manipulating a murder trial. She’d tried to get Chloe to slander Lucifer.

“Detective?”

She turned her head to find the delivery person had already left, and Lucifer was laying out the food on one of the glass tables.

“Are you all right?”

“I have no idea anymore,” she said. “When my brain stops melting, I’ll let you know.”

He held out a coffee cup. “Will this help?”

“God, I hope so. I mean… oh, forget it.” She moved to take it from him, and the scents of both the coffee and breakfast burritos finally registered. Okay. Breakfast first, information bombs later.

They ate in the living room this time, each of them taking an armchair so they could use the little side tables. For a few minutes they ate in silence, until Chloe felt like she could actually think again. Just the simple act of eating breakfast made it easier, even though nothing about this was actually normal.

She hadn’t missed Lucifer’s continuous glances her way, but it seemed he’d decided to let her speak first. So she said, “Is Charlotte… your mom… did she send you to hell, too? You usually just talk about your dad doing that.”

He seemed almost relieved, despite the way his jaw clenched briefly at the question. “Not so directly, no. It was my father’s edict, but she just stood by and let it happen.”

“So yes,” she said. “That’s what she’s trying to get your forgiveness for?”

He nodded. “According to her, my father was going to utterly destroy me, and she did intervene to mitigate that punishment. Got him to agree to banish me to hell instead. I’m still trying to decide how much I believe it.”

“So even after being in hell together all that time, she still wanted to just keep trying to convince you?”

“We didn’t exactly talk in hell,” Lucifer said. “In fact, I never saw her. She was imprisoned in a cell to contain her power, and all I knew was that she’d watched as I was thrown out. I left her to the demons and tried to forget she was there.”

That explained a lot. So much pain and hurt going around. Chloe thought of asking what hell was like, but… that seemed like a conversation for another time. “Why would she do all that just to get me to call you a liar in court? She told me outright she wanted me to betray you and smear your reputation. That hardly seems conducive to earning your forgiveness.”

Lucifer had been about to take another bite, but he lowered his burrito. “She told you that?”

“Yeah. She offered me my own deal. Betray you, and she’d manipulate Perry into taking a plea deal. She knew we didn’t have enough evidence.”

“And you still refused?” he asked, looking at her intently, like that mattered more to him than his mother’s intentions.

“Well, yes. I could never have done that to you, Lucifer.”

He swallowed, eyes never leaving hers. “Do you regret it now? Knowing everything?”

“No,” she said. “I wish we hadn’t been in that position, but I would gladly do it all over again and then chew her out for good measure.”

He let out an incredulous huff. “You really would, wouldn’t you.”

It didn’t seem like he was looking for a reply, so she just nodded once.

He said, “It wasn’t about trying to hurt me, you know. It was about you.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Mum didn’t offer you that deal because she wanted to hurt me, she did it to test you. More accurately, to prove that you wouldn’t sacrifice for me like I did for—” He broke off, looking away. “She doesn’t like how close we are, that I put you above my family. I didn’t know what her plan was before that moment, but I knew she had one. She was probably sure you’d take her up on it. And then I would know you didn’t… well. Anyway.”

Wow. Lucifer had been right; his mother had a very skewed idea of what was best for him. Apparently Chloe was on a goddess’ shit list just for caring about Lucifer.

No. Because it was clear to his mother that Lucifer cared about her that much.

“What did you sacrifice for me?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper. “There’s something else besides the deal with your father, isn’t there?”

He picked at the burrito, still not looking at her. “What I told you last night. I killed my brother.”

For a long moment there was silence, the kind that held weight. Chloe didn’t know what to say to that. She had no details; she’d thought last night that it hadn’t even really happened. But now, it felt very real.

“What happened?” she finally asked.

He told her. About Uriel, and her car accident, and the deadline to hand his mother over. “I couldn’t take the chance that I wouldn’t be able to stop whatever he’d set in motion, and I couldn’t send my mother to hell. I just… I couldn’t do it, Detective. And I didn’t know how else to stop him.”

Still Chloe just sat there, caught up in the horror of it. Thinking of how an angel had almost killed her. She couldn’t exactly bring herself to feel sad he was dead, but Lucifer…

“You’ve never killed anyone before, have you?” she asked. Lucifer the nightclub owner, she’d never questioned that being true. Lucifer the devil… it seemed at once easier to think he might have, and also not.

“No.”

She got up and went to him. The entire time he’d been speaking, he’d been looking away, but now he watched as she sat on the arm of his chair and put her arms around him as best she could. “That was an impossible choice,” she said. “You did what you had to do.”

“I know,” he said. “But it’s still…”

“I know.” He put a hand over her arm, and she said, “Thank you for always protecting me, even when I didn’t know it. And I’m… I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I’m sure I don’t even know a fraction of it.”

She sat up, but his hand caught hers and held fast. He looked up at her, the ghost of a smile on his face. “I’m pretty sure my father made it a law of the universe that my life can never be simple. Regret being partners yet?”

She smiled too, just a little. “You tell me all these things and ask if I regret knowing you? No, Lucifer. You’re still the best partner I’ve ever had, and now I’m just finding out even more reasons why. Besides, my life wasn’t exactly a breeze before I met you either.”

“True. You’d manage to find trouble all on your own.”

“And I’m sure there’ll be plenty more to come. I’m guessing me passing your mom’s fucked up test won’t change her opinion of me?”

“No. Probably not. Although…” He considered. “While she’ll probably never like you, there’s a good chance she’ll change tactics and come up with some other plan to get me to see things her way. Who knows? It could involve trying to use you in a way that seems like she’s playing nice with you, or both of us.”

“And I thought my mom was bad,” she muttered. “So don’t trust her. Got it.”

“Generally good advice, yes. There’s, um… one more thing you should probably know.”

“What?”

“She did consider just killing you outright to take you out of the picture, but I made it very clear to her that if she hurts you, that’s it for her. Amenadiel apparently takes issue with this too, so I don’t think she’ll try to go that route again. But, you know. Maybe don’t turn your back to her.”

“Fantastic,” Chloe said, reaching across him for her coffee. “An angel and a goddess have both tried to kill me. Okay, sure. Might as well have that be the case now too.” She took a long swallow and set the cup aside again, using the movements to help her process that new tidbit. “Tell me again why I’m supposed to think the devil is evil when you’re the only one not doing shit like that?”

He looked amused to hear it, and more than a little gratified. “Because history is written by the victors, and unfortunately for me, it’s slightly hard to win against all of heaven when you’re not almighty.”

“And Amenadiel? He’s an angel, I guess, right?” Lucifer nodded. “How much do I need to worry about him?”

“Not much, at the moment. We’re more or less allies. He disapproves of Mum’s antics, even though he was quick to stop thinking she deserves to be in hell. He’s been helping me handle her, and he doesn’t have anything against you. I’d like to think he’s been successfully pulling his head out of his ass ever since he fell, too.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked. “Why do I feel like it’s not so simple as all that?”

“Because you have all the intellect Amenadiel lacks?” he suggested lightly. “Us working together instead of being adversaries is a fairly recent development. He was always the one to return me to hell whenever I left for a break, and when I refused to go back this time, he tried to get Malcolm to kill me. Succeeded, I suppose, though by that point he’d had a change of heart. Anyway, after that he lost his wings and his power. He thinks he’s being punished by my father for getting humans killed.”

“He did what?” Chloe exclaimed. She got to her feet, unable to sit still anymore. “You’re telling me what happened with Malcolm was Amenadiel’s fault but that I don’t need to worry about him now? He almost got my daughter and me killed too!”

“Do feel free to yell at him for it all you like, but I would ask that you please not shoot him. I need him to help with Mum, and it is rather nice to have one of my siblings not treat me like I’m the scourge of the universe.”

“That is the lowest bar in existence,” she said, exasperated.

“I told you what you were in for,” he said, standing too. He began to collect the remnants of their breakfast. “Would it help if I told you that he was also nearly a victim of Malcolm, and that falling is the worst punishment I could give to him?”

“The first part, maybe a little. The second part, no. He’s still living a cushy life on Earth while you were actually suffering in hell, and apparently, he’s a large part of the reason why.”

Lucifer moved in front of her, his hands full, his expression more serious now. “I appreciate the sentiment, but… not even he deserves that, Detective. Besides, he did save your life later when he didn’t have to.”

Ugh. “Fine,” she relented. “I won’t shoot him.”

“Thank you,” he said, and went to go throw away the trash.

Chloe took her coffee and followed him partway, lingering by the piano. “You know, I feel like I should be a lot more nervous about Maze, since she’s a literal demon,” she started. “But while I didn’t trust her at first… I kind of do now? And like with you, I’m not sure that’ll change.”

“Oh, Maze you definitely don’t need to worry about,” Lucifer said easily. “As long as you don’t betray her first.”

“Comforting,” she said under her breath.

He turned to face her and leaned against the bar. “Maze has decided you’re now a friend, which means she’d fight to the death to protect you. The urchin, too. You were right not to trust her before, but she’s… she’s different now. She won’t ever try to hurt you, but if you asked her to hurt someone for you? Just point and she’s on it.”

Chloe thought back to the interactions she’d had with Maze lately. Delivering Perry Smith right to her, gleefully engaging in a bar fight… yeah, that tracked. She thought, too, of her taking Trixie trick-or-treating and how she’d found them curled up asleep on the couch later. Of the way she was teaching her daughter self-defense in a way that was always patient and oddly responsible. They endlessly butted heads over the little things, but Chloe would never have moved in with her if she’d thought Maze would hurt either one of them. It wasn’t like anything had actually changed.

“Well, that’s good to know,” she said. “Are there any other demons around?”

“No. Just her.”

She nodded. “I’m sure there’s a million more things left for you to tell me, but I have to get to work at some point, and I think I need a break, anyway. A girl can only handle so many revelations at once.”

He smiled a little. “Understandable. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still here at all. Linda avoided me for two weeks after she saw my face.”

“Like I said. I’m awesome that way.”

A laugh slipped out. “The least of what you are.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me sooner?” she asked. “Because you thought I would run screaming?”

The humor died down again. “Yes.”

“But you wanted me to believe you before. You tried to get me to accept it.”

“I… I don’t know. At first, because it seemed ridiculous to me that you wouldn’t believe it, and… I didn’t care as much, what you thought. Now I do. I was thinking that you’d test my blood and believe me without having to see my face, but you didn’t do it.”

She traced a random pattern on the piano, thinking back to that moment. “I think I didn’t because I knew, deep down, that it would confirm you weren’t human. And I didn’t want to open that door. I meant what I said—that whatever secret you had, it didn’t matter to me. I liked our partnership. I didn’t… I didn’t want that to change.”

“And you really still feel that way now?” he asked quietly.

She bit her lip. “No,” she said.

He stiffened, his expression closing off. “Oh.”

She moved towards him, holding his gaze. “That secret, it does matter to me. I want things to change. I want to know everything. I want our partnership to be equal from both sides—where you don’t have to keep things from me, and I can actually be there for you, too.”

He let out a long, slow breath. The light filling the penthouse reflected off his eyes, brighter than they usually were. “Oh,” he repeated, differently now.

She stopped in front of him. Closer than she needed to be. “I still don’t want to go anywhere,” she breathed.

He swallowed. Reached for her face, slowly, as if afraid he’d scare her away. But that was never going to happen. “Chloe, I…” His fingertips touched her cheek, ever so gently sliding up as he cupped her jaw. “I would still like a chance to try things again. If you want. Not now, of course, since I’m sure you still need time, but—“

She leaned forward, tilting her head up, and kissed him. For a second he didn’t respond—caught by surprise—but then his fingers pressed more firmly into her skin as his lips moved with hers. Slowly. Wondrously. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, a question and answer, one she returned to him. He tasted of coffee and chorizo and scotch, like it permanently clung to him. It was even better than she’d imagined it would be.

She gripped his waist, each of them taking their time, luxuriating in the feel of something she’d been denying to herself for so long. Want. Desire. Affection from this man who knew her so well, who cared for her more than anyone else, who meant everything to her, too.

When they broke apart, she felt almost dizzy from it all. For a moment they just looked at each other, drinking in the other’s gaze. “How about this weekend?” she suggested.

“Okay,” he said, and she was pleased by how unsteady he was, his eyes now wide and dark. “This weekend it is.”

She smiled, and he matched it with one of his own. “Can’t wait.”

A month later, Chloe walked hand in hand with Lucifer as they made their way aimlessly across the sand. The sun was minutes away from setting, lighting up the sky in soft reds and oranges, the handful of clouds scattered on the horizon only making it all the more beautiful. The waves were calm, tumbling to shore with gentle shushing noises, a lovely sort of background music.

They’d had dinner together at a nearby restaurant and decided to walk on the beach for a few minutes after. Talking about nothing important, just wanting to enjoy each other’s company.

They hit a lull in the conversation, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. It was the kind of quiet that was comforting instead of awkward.

Then she tugged on his hand, bringing him to a stop, and stepped in front of him. A small smile was playing on his lips, his happiness at just being there with her shining through. “Yes?” he said.

“I have a secret I’d like to share.”

He tilted his head a fraction, amused. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“I love you,” she told him. Any nerves she might have had were nowhere to be found; it was one of the easiest things she’d ever said to him. “And I think that’s been true for a while now. Just so you know.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand, then started to turn to keep walking. She didn’t want him to feel like he had to say it back, especially since their developing relationship wasn’t always smooth. He struggled sometimes with what to do and how to feel.

But his hand closed tight around hers, and she stopped again, turning back to face him. He hadn’t moved an inch.

His smile had, though. It was impossibly wide, lighting up his entire face as if the sun wasn’t disappearing on them. “Wait, you—what did you just say?”

“I love you,” she told him again.

“Yes, that’s what I thought I heard,” he said. “I just… I wasn’t expecting that.”

Possibly ever. She wasn’t at all sure that anyone had ever said that to him.

But she didn’t want to be thinking that way now. So she just shrugged. “It felt like a good time to mention it.”

He let out a little incredulous laugh. The next thing she knew, his arms were around her, drawing her into a hug. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of him, her own joy blooming through her even more. She hadn’t thought that was possible. How was it that Lucifer’s reaction made her even happier than she’d been when wanting to tell him that?

And then he said something that, incredibly, managed to add to it further still.

“I love you, too.”

She said, “I know. That hasn’t been a secret for a long time.”

He made a little noise that was probably meant to sound put-out, but he couldn’t manage it. “Well, it took me a while to realize it.”

“Thanks for telling me,” she murmured, holding him tighter. “I’m glad to hear it.”

His voice was full of that love as he said, “Me, too, Chloe.”