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Chloe rolls her eyes as the tall, willowy red-head drops into the chair at the other side of the table. The temptation to hand her partner a paper towel for the drool on his chin is strong. Almost as strong as the desperate need to smack him in the back of his head. Somehow, she resists the siren song of both actions.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Satan. Contrary to legend, he’s only got one horn , she thinks to herself. And in spite of previous comments about soulless gingers, he’d still hit it like the angry hand of God.
Wait, scratch that...
“So, Adam,” she begins as she sits back in her own chair and tries not to snicker at the image going through her head of The Devil as a unicorn. “Tell us about the victim.”
The young man’s creamy, freckle-dusted complexion pales further and he licks his lips nervously. “Well, Steve was my partner. We started working together years ago and decided we would be better off on our own, so we started working out of my house to build up a base clientele before making a break from our previous employer.”
The detective looks at her paperwork, “And what business are you in?”
Before the young man can answer, Lucifer pauses in the middle of the elevator looks he’s giving. “Why, he’s in the world’s oldest profession, of course, Detective! Can’t you just smell it on him?”
He closes his dark chocolate eyes and inhales slowly. “Mmmm....delicious.” His tongue snakes out to lick his teeth.
Adam’s complexion changes to almost match his dark auburn hair and he nods, embarrassed. “Well, yeah. I mean that IS technically true.”
Chloe scowls, “You’re a prostitute?”
Both men look at her sharply.
“What?!” Lucifer interjects. “No, no, no. Brewing, darling. You humans didn’t decide sex would occasionally be a cash transaction until well after agriculture.” He gestures at their witness, “Shortly after humans started growing food, they began brewing so the literal fruits of their labors wouldn’t be lost to fermentation.”
Adam nods again and gestures to Lucifer, “He’s right. The history of brewing stretches back a really long time.”
Lucifer cocks his head while looking at his partner, “Does that shock you, Detective?”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, “I don’t think anything shocks me anymore,” she mutters under her breath.
Shuffling the paper to re-focus her attention, she looks at their witness. “Okay, so you and Steve started your own brewery?” He nods and she continues, “Can you think of anyone who would have wanted him dead? Any business rivals? Lovers?”
Adam shakes his head, bright blue eyes welling and the end of his nose turning red. “No?” he coughs. “I mean...we were...um...partners. At work and...” His voice cracks as he looks at the ceiling. Heavy sigh. “Things were going great. The brewery was taking off. He and I were...we...” Fat tears drip down his face. “I was going to propose.” He drops his head into his hands and cries.
Lucifer rolls his eyes, “Obviously not our bad guy, Detective. The crybabies are always too... what ?”
Her blue eyes shoot icy daggers and cut him off, Really? Is the silent question and he just shrugs. Old Scratch is bored.
Half an hour later, after limping through the rest of Adam’s tear-filled statement. Chloe hands over her card and he promises to call if he thinks of any new information that might be helpful. Lucifer doesn’t even hide the hungry gleam in his eye as he watches the young man walk away.
Chloe huffs impatiently, “Can you just... not ...do that?”
Dark eyes blink innocently, “Do what , darling? Admire the view? Seems the chap could use some cheering up and I have a few ideas.”
“His partner is dead, Lucifer. Can you try to at least fake a little...I don’t know...sympathy?” She grabs her keys off her desk and stalks toward the door with her own partner close behind.
Now he’s confused, “What have I done to offend this time, Detective?”
She looks up and realizes he’s asking an honest question. Her shoulders sag and she gestures toward the exit. He’s a six-year-old. He’s a six-year-old. He’s a damned six-year-old. “We’ll talk about it somewhere else.”
Lucifer grins, “Oooo, another lesson already?”
Chloe snorts, “Yeah. Another lesson.” Her stomach growls and she glances at her watch, “We can talk over lunch.”
They leave the precinct and Chloe drives to Venice Beach. Thankfully, he generally leaves her to her thoughts. Since finding out her partner is Actually The Devil, a surprisingly small number of things have changed. Most things have not.
The biggest change? Chloe actively serving as Lucifer’s translator-of-sorts for human behavior.
“So, you’re really not going back to Hell?” she’d asked.
He was emphatic, his eyes flaring. “Absolutely not .”
She nodded, strangely relieved. “Okay. Then you need to pick up on a few things if you’re going to fit in.”
He fairly bounced at that. Rather like a puppy. An enormous puppy. Maybe a hell-hound puppy that pretends he can’t kill you as easily as looking at you. And he wouldn’t. As far as she knows. As far as she doesn’t want to think about.
“Are you offering your very generous aid, Detective?” he’d asked happily.
The detective was unable to stop her answering grin and nod, “Yeah.”
“Delightful!”
They grab gyros from a food truck, Lucifer complains about their failure to also carry ouzo (ignoring his partner’s glare), then head to a nearby table.
Lucifer takes a large bite of his gyro (double-stuffed with souvlaki, of course) while Chloe picks at her grilled vegetable gyro.
He licks his fingers and hums with pleasure, “I do love tzatziki sauce. Not just delicious on Greek food, but Greek women as well.”
Chloe glares at him. “Gross.”
“What?” he asks in feigned innocence. “It’s also delicious on Greek men. I am an equal opportunity Devil, after all.” Big cheeky grin before he takes another bite.
“Are you horny ALL the time?” she asks without preamble.
Dark eyebrows go up and he raises a finger in a silent ‘one moment darling’ gesture while he chews. He finally shrugs, “Not exactly. Easiest to put it as ‘always ready to go.’ Engine constantly revved, if you will.”
She looks at him closely, “And you really think drugs, sex or booze just...fix...everything?” She takes a bite as he shrugs.
“Not everything, Detective. I’ve just found you humans find these things to be pleasant distractions.” He grins, “I don’t especially care about solving your problems. I just want the people around me to have a good time.”
She narrows her eyes and gives him an assessing look. “Were they talking about you when they wrote about the Whore of Babylon in the Bible?”
He laughs, “Look at you, slut-shaming The Devil. Naughty minx. Luckily, I like you.”
Chloe rolls her eyes, “You just want in my panties, Lucifer. Still not happening.” Not yet, anyway , she clarifies to herself. But he doesn’t have to know that .
Lucifer’s smile slides off his face and gives her a close look, his dark eyes capturing her eyes. “I still don’t understand why . Seriously, Detective, am I unattractive to you? Even if you were more into women, certainly you and Maze would have...”
She growls around her mouthful of food and he waits patiently (for him, at any rate) for an answer. “You aren’t unattractive, Lucifer. You’re....I’m seriously never going to hear the end of this...freaking beautiful. And I have no doubt you are...um....accomplished in the sack.”
He preens and she rolls her eyes again as she continues in spite of her blush. She taps her head. “But my erogenous zone is up here .” She glances at her lap. “ Not down there.”
Dark brows furrow, “Not sure I understand, darling. You only think about sex? You’ve procreated, so I know you’ve done it at least once.” His expression becomes a full frown, “Unless you relied on technology...she said she’s not adopted...”
She facepalms and is about to reply when she is cut off by her partner pointing at her and asking, loudly (because of course), “Are you a virgin ?!”
He looks horrified by the very idea, “Bloody Hell, Detective, it’s unthinkable!” He tosses his napkin onto his now-empty paper plate and moves to rise from the table, “Come along, my dear. We need to remedy this tragedy immediately!”
Chloe can’t help it, she laughs. So hard she snorts and tears stream from her eyes.
He’s clearly quite offended by the very idea of her not having had sex. Ever.
“Lucifer,” she says in mid-chuckle.
He doesn’t hear her and she tries again, “Lucifer!”
He grabs her hand, still not having heard, and tries to tug her toward the car. Finally, Chloe raises her voice even louder, “I LIKE SEX!” she shouts at him.
His reaction is instantaneous (he drops her hand and looks at her, eyebrows raised, mouth in an “O”), and so is that of the people around them. A nearby mother covers her child’s ears and a couple of young skate-dudes smirk and applaud.
Her face scarlet, the detective grabs her trash and stalks toward a garbage can where she shoves it in with force.
Lucifer, having recovered from his surprise, starts laughing while he adjusts his jacket, “Well. Now that we’ve gotten THAT out of the way, maybe we should...”
Chloe turns at growls at him, “No we shouldn’t.”
He grins, “Are you sure? You seem a bit pent-up, darling.”
She stomps into the parking lot. “Just get in the damned car.”
Satan cocks his head, completely confused, but does as commanded.
Once they are seated in the confines of the car, she starts the motor and growls under her breath, “Nothing says ‘respectable police officer’ like yelling “I like sex” in the middle of a park.”
Lucifer frowns, “I don’t understand. What’s wrong with saying you like sex?” He waggles his eyebrows and adopts a comic leer, “I, for one, am very pleased to hear it. Excited, even!”
She huffs as she pulls into traffic, “Right. You would be.” Chloe glances over at her passenger, “Lucifer, sex, among humans anyway, is a private thing. Personal.” She waves her hand, “Most of us don’t engage in it like it’s a recreational sport.”
“I don’t see why not,” he scoffs. “Might even achieve world peace if everybody...”
“Lucifer,” she cuts him off and sighs.
He raises his hand in a ‘hold on a moment’ gesture, “Mind if I play the Me’s Advocate for a moment?”
She shrugs, “Sure.”
“So, you report you enjoy sex. I certainly enjoy it. Why won’t you have sex with me?” he asks in honest confusion.
Chloe can’t help her chuckle, “My approach to sex is...different than yours. I need more of a connection than “hey, you’re hot and I’m hot, let’s do it”.” She flashes a small smile, “I need an intellectual connection with my partner...um...person I’m having sex with.” Please don’t read into that .
“I believe you and your partner connect quite well intellectually, Detective,” he answers with a naughty grin.
Damn.
She blushes, “You know what I mean.” I really hope you don’t.
He nods with a smirk that indicates they will return to that little slip of the tongue at a later date.
Yep. He totally knows what I mean. Double-damn.
Chloe continues, “Having sex means being vulnerable. For humans, anyway. It can take time to build trust on both sides. To know the other person won’t hurt you somehow.” She shrugs, “I’m sure you’ve seen enough victims of that trust going wrong. Both here and....”
Lucifer cuts her off, his tone clearly conveying a measure of distress, “Are you saying you don’t trust me, Chloe? Surely you know I would never...”
She nods, “I do trust you, Lucifer. With my life. I even trust you with my kid.” She pauses and sends a sad glance his way, “ You don’t trust me .”
“I trust you completely, Detective. Certainly you must know I would never have shown you...” he begins.
Chloe cuts him off, “Lucifer, when I hugged you after you saved those boys from the Professor, you had some sort of full-body spasm like you thought you were under attack or something. You still do it. That’s not trust. It even happens when Trixie hugs you.”
“In my defense, Detective,” he interrupts, “the little urchin IS actually attacking me in those moments.”
She chuckles and shakes her head, “She likes you.”
He frowns, “And she thinks it’s funny.”
The detective’s grin grows, “That, too.” She pauses, “I’m going to step out of line here and say it’s like you’ve never been shown affection.”
Lucifer smirks, “I’m shown affection quite regularly, darling.”
Chloe arches an eyebrow at him, “No, darling . You’re screwed seven ways to Sunday quite regularly. Not the same thing.”
“Cheeky,” he grins for a moment then looks down and fidgets with his cuff, saying nothing for a few minutes while she navigates traffic.
“You okay?” she asks.
He seems to be taking an intense interest in his hands, turning them over and moving his fingers as he speaks, “Contact which does not involve violence is....novel.”
“She frowns as she pulls into the precinct parking deck, “What do you mean?”
They exit the car and he pauses next to the vehicle.
Long fingers flex and contract while he examines his palms, “Touch is torture. In Hell, at least. I don’t want to do that here. Don’t want to....endure it.”
“Here...” he pauses thoughtfully then gestures to indicate the world around them, “Touch is....sex.” Lopsided grin. “Much more pleasant, I assure you.”
Chloe sighs and steps closer, “Lucifer,” she says quietly. “It’s not just sex.” He looks up at her, not understanding. “It’s part of it,” she clarifies, “But they aren’t the same.”
He frowns. “No?”
She shakes her head with a smile while she rests her hand on one of his. “No.”
Her other hand reaches up to lay on his cheek and she feels tears well as he closes his eyes and presses into her palm. Her thumb strokes his brow, “ This is affection. It doesn’t just happen between people who want to have sex. Family members do it. Friends.....do it.”
His hand slowly closes to engulf hers and holds it carefully as if afraid to hold it too tight. She feels a shudder course through him, and a tear trickles down her cheek.
Lucifer watches as his free hand slowly slides up the detective’s arm. It reaches her shoulder then slides across her back and he slowly, very carefully pulls her into a hug. His chest rattles as he releases a slow breath and draws her close.
Chloe releases his hand to wrap her arm around his waist, then lowers the hand from his cheek to wrap that arm around him as well. She rests her cheek on his chest and closes her eyes.
Somehow, in their day-to-day, the detective forgets how large he is but, here, in his arms, it’s impossible to miss. They wrap almost completely around her then tighten carefully. Chloe sighs into the feeling of being well and truly held . He rests his cheek on the top of her head and answers her sigh with a soft one of his own.
“Like....this?” he murmurs, the sound no more than a rumble in his throat.
Her hands grip his shirt to pull him even closer as she nods, “Oh yeah,” she chuckles a little. “ Just like this.”
Lucifer answers her tightened grip by drawing her closer, focusing on... what is that? ...the odd warmth creeping over him. It seemed to start in his hand, when she touched him. Then his face. She touched him there as well.
Then his chest grew tight as she rested against it.
The innocence of her touch steals his breath and he can’t resist his desire for more of it. Even if he suffocates. He’s drowning in it.
If I may choose, I’ll die like this, thank you.
“Detective,” he whispers breathlessly.
“Hmmm...?” she hums in response from her position beneath his chin.
“I....my chest hurts. What are you doing?” He tries to keep the panic from his voice but he’s pretty sure she’s onto him already.
Indeed, she squeezes him tighter for a moment before moving back. She looks up and rests her hand on his cheek again, a rueful smile as he releases a ragged breath. “Teaching you a lesson.”