Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hours after...it...Chloe gives the hospital Linda’s contact information when they gently question her about seeking mental health services. Ethical? Not by any means, but the bullshit she’s dealing with can’t be discussed with by any other professional. She doesn’t need to be sent to the ER for a psych eval, thank you.

She didn’t intend on going to the appointment at 9:30am, but her mom is watching Trixie and she hasn’t been able to sleep since being discharged, so she goes to the corner store, buys a handle, practically slams it down on Linda’s table and stares at her.

Linda sighs, tossing her notepad onto the table beside the handle. "Alright, let’s go."

Chloe doesn’t say anything until she’s had three shots in a row and her fingers are tingling.

Oh, right. She hasn’t eaten.

"What the fuck?" Chloe says, her voice rough from the burn of vodka.

"I know," Linda says. She’s drinking her vodka in a glass with ice.

"Wait…you know – know?"

"Well, yeah – isn’t that what you meant?"

"You knew?"

"Yes!"

"Fuck!"

Silence.

"Devil," Chloe manages to say as she’s sipping on her fifth drink. Linda has forced her to add water and ice.

"Yes," Linda says patiently.

"How are you not – how are you functioning?"

"I took time to process," Linda says. "It took a while, admittedly, but…eventually I realized that his issues are quite human, when you think about it. Actually, he’s probably the most human out of all of us."

Chloe snorts, leaning back into the couch. "What, his daddy issues – oh my god – it’s actually God. He’s talking about GOD."

Linda nods solemnly and takes a long sip of her drink. Chloe chugs.

"Okay, I think you need a break," Linda says, reaching across and taking the glass from Chloe’s grip.

Chloe pouts as Linda places both of their glasses far away. Chloe reaches out a hand in a sad attempt to take it back.

"Linda," Chloe sighs.

"Yes?"

"He’s…"

A lot of things. Too much and many to name especially when drunk. She wants a burger. She wants to know where Lucifer is. She’s scared to see him again. She kept a bloody feather from the warehouse and it’s hiding in her bedside drawer. She’s scared.

She’s really scared.

For a lot of reasons.

Chloe just makes it to the restroom in time to vomit vodka and bile. She holds her own hair back because she never expects anyone to be there to do it and she cries against the seat.

At some point, Linda must’ve ordered food to be delivered because she has an assortment of foods from a diner: burger, turkey club, scrambled eggs and toast.

Chloe takes the eggs and picks the bacon out of the turkey club. Linda takes the fries for herself even though they seem to have lost their crispness.

"It’s easier to not think about it on a grand scale," Linda says. "Lucifer is a man who suffered abuse from his father and mother. He processes his trauma by living hedonistically. He has a strong sense of right and wrong – very much black and white thinking – and difficulty working within the grey. He has different relationships with his siblings, it’s..."

"Human," Chloe finishes for her.

"He feels all emotions on the spectrum. You’ve seen him happy, sad, scared, jealous."

Chloe nods. She knows – it’s been years of working with him.

"He’s been in the universe since – forever, ions, I can’t even comprehend a unit of measurement. We’re just a – a blip in the timeline."

Linda smiles. "I think it’s safe to say you – all of us – are a pretty big blip."

Chloe wipes her cheeks of tears and forces herself to eat soggy toast.

They’re together past the hour, but it seems like Linda had only prepared the day for her and she calls Chloe an Uber home.

On the third day of her forced leave, Chloe is cleaning the house, finding remnants of Him everywhere: an expensive set of high balls in the dishwasher, perfect penmanship on scraps of paper, even a Hermès tie that’s hanging off Trixie’s bed frame.

Actually, Chloe is surprised how many things Trixie has collected of Lucifer’s – or maybe it’s how much he gave her. There are wrappers of truffles that Chloe has admired in store windows (she’s going to need to have a talk with her about that); there are cufflinks – two pairs, one of the suit of Spades and a Monblanc pair with onyx and diamonds, which makes her nauseous – these little shits can help her with groceries for months. Typical of him to give them away without a thought.

She forcibly reminds herself he isn’t human.

Chloe is in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher (and putting his high balls under the sink) when Trixie comes home from school.

(She's been staying with her mother the last few days. She'll have to call tomorrow to thank her.)

"Hi, Mom!" Trixie runs to hug her.

"Hey, Monkey, I've missed you!" Chloe holds her tightly for a moment. "How was Grandma? And school?"

"Both good! Grandma said you need to call her ASAP."

Chloe doesn't roll her eyes. Or she tries not to do so. "I will."

Trixie gasps in a way that still makes Chloe's heart jump to her throat. "I left something outside!"

Chloe exhales and shuts her eyes. "That was a grey hair," she mutters, following her daughter to the foyer. Whatever she left outside is propped up against the house and she's dragging it inside. "What have you got there?" she asks.

"A presentation!"

"Oh, really? What’s it on?"

It's three-panel poster board that’s bigger than her. She sets it up and Chloe’s mind blanks when she reads, "OLD TESTAMENT 101" across the top.

"Trix..." Chloe says slowly. "This isn’t a school assignment, is it," she states rather than asks.

"Nope! Can we do it at the table? I want to put it on it and you sit across. I’m the teacher today!"

"Who put you up to this?" Chloe tries to ask calmly.

"Maze! She suggested it, but I actually find it really interesting."

Chloe brings a hand to her face. Maze, self-proclaimed demon and shit, an actual demon. She needs a drink.

"Okay, sure," Chloe says in a strained voice, forcing down nausea. "Do you want a snack first?"

"Oh yeah, I’m hungry!" Trixie exclaims.

After Trixie has an apple with peanut butter, Trixie grabs a spatula from the drawer and sets up her poster board. Chloe forces herself to get a soda from the fridge and not the handle in the top cabinet by the sink.

"In the beginning..." Trixie begins dramatically. "God created light –"

"Honey, l think we can –"

"No, Mom, you’re going to hear all of it."

Chloe sighs and nods. "Okay, continue."

Chloe knows the basics: it took God six days to create the universe: light, sky and sea, land and vegetation, the stars and sun and moon (which doesn’t make sense because didn’t he already create light on day one? Doesn’t that intrinsically include the sun?), sea animals and birds, and then animals and humans. Adam and Eve.

For the first time, Chloe is more curious than anything else.

"And God told the angels that they must worship Man. Lucifer – or Samael – did you know that was his original name? – refused. He didn’t see why we were to be put above God. Which if you think about it is a pretty reasonable way of looking at things."

Chloe feels a little sick.

"But God didn’t like that and so Lucifer staged a rebellion. He was cast down to Hell."

Trixie takes a breath, readying herself for the conclusion.

"So, when you think about it, Lucifer isn’t really evil. He was, well. Like Eve. Questioning. If you really think about it, that was the first instance of free will." Trixie grins. "Kind of cool, right?"

Chloe doesn’t know where she got that version from; there are too many variations of the tale of Lucifer’s fall. Some say he wanted to be above God and he was punished for it.

She even read a stray theory about Lucifer loving God too much to put humans above Him, which Chloe doesn’t believe. She knows Lucifer enjoys humanity quite a bit, but she can’t imagine his worshipping either. At least, she thinks so.

Chloe forces a smile. "You did such a great job, Trix." She looks at the board thoroughly: printed scans of paintings and drawings of Lucifer’s fall, of angels, snakes, Adam and Eve.

Chloe breathes through her nose and out of her mouth when she feels dizzy.

"Is Lucifer okay?"

Chloe blinks and looks to Trixie, her eyes wide with concern and worry.

"He’s…doing okay. He was hurt on our last case, and he’s recovering," Chloe fibs.

Trixie frowns. "Is he in the hospital?"

"No, but I don’t think he wants any visitors."

Trixie's frown deepens. "Oh. Should I make him a card?"

"Sure, I think that’s a great idea."

Trixie lights up and goes to her room.

(Later, when Trixie is asleep, Chloe stares at her daughter’s finished project: a picture of Lucifer with what’s supposed to be bandages wrapped around his forehead and leg with ‘Get Well Soon’ on the inside. A dozen hearts. I miss you. She brings a hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying.)

Trixie’s card for Lucifer burns in Chloe’s bag for three days before Chloe musters up the courage to drive to Lux.

She doesn’t expect Lucifer to be there, but she does expect Maze, who is doing inventory at the bar, occasionally writing things down in a notebook. She doesn’t look up when Chloe slowly makes her way down the stairs.

"Did you like Trixie’s project? I thought she did a pretty decent job. Picked great pictures, although she missed my favorite one: I’m personally fond of Michelangelo’s depiction of Lucifer. Laughed for decades over the image of his dick being eaten by a snake," Maze says, snorting in wistful amusement.

Chloe swallows. Still the same Maze.

Maze finally glances at Chloe. "Want a drink?"

Badly, but Chloe says, "No, thanks."

"Suit yourself." Maze pours herself a ridiculous serving of scotch. After shooting back half of it, she stares Chloe directly in the eye. "And this is where you tell me to stay away from Trixie and lecture me on the stunt I pulled, right? Got it. You can leave now."

Chloe nods slowly. "That was part one."

Maze lifts an eyebrow. "Oh? There are multiple parts?"

Chloe reaches into her bag and pulls out the card, her hand steady when she places it on the bar.

Maze freezes as she stares at it.

Chloe clenches her teeth, tears stinging her eyes.

Maze looks up and nods towards the chair directly across from her. Chloe plops herself down and drops her bag in the chair next to her, but it falls on the floor; she doesn’t bother to pick it up.

Maze picks up her glass and leans forward on her forearms. "Is there a part three?"

"I’m working on it."

"Uh huh."

They stare at each other.

"Honey, you’re not getting shit outta me unless you open your mouth and ask me."

When it comes down to it, she’s still scared. She still wants to see him. And, now, really…she’s…

Curious.

"You’ve known Lucifer for…ages…" Chloe starts slowly.

Maze smiles. "Yes."

Chloe nods, breathes. "Tell me what he was like. Before."

Maze cocks her head to the side. "Trying to get a bio? Cross referencing, like a case?"

Chloe wets her bottom lip and looks down at her hands. "He promised me he’d never lied to me. That he never will. And I – I don’t know. Didn’t take half of what he said seriously, speaking in outlandish metaphors and, it’s just…hitting me that he was being totally honest. I just didn’t…understand the context. Didn’t believe the original truth." She takes a breath. "So. Yeah. I guess it’s a case, but it’s me. Not him. It’s to trigger my memory."

Maze nods. "Okay, but…it’s dark. You’re not going to like it," she states, almost warns.

Even before Chloe saw that face, she saw the darkness as much as he tried to hide it – bitter voice, pained eyes, scars on his back –

"No, but at least I know his latest chapter and…" she swallows, shrugs. "I don’t think it’s been all bad, right?"

Maze brings another glass and pours Chloe a few shots worth. "And you only know the heavily redacted version of that chapter," she says. She refills her own glass. "So. In the beginning…"

"I really fucking hate that phrase," Chloe mutters suddenly, which makes Maze laugh.

Heavily redacted doesn’t even cover it. Saving his club and hugging seems insignificant in the face of going to Hell twice to save her life, somewhere he never wanted to come back to, much to Maze’s disappointment.

(Chloe distinctly remembers calling him an ego maniacal narcissist and she feels a little sick to her stomach.)

She’s sipped the scotch a couple of times before abandoning it, lost in thought.

Maze sighs heavily. "Look, I…find positive emotions to be grating and burdensome, like, ninety-nine-percent of the time, but clearly, Lucifer doesn’t feel the way I do and he’s…" Maze screws up her face in disgust, "…in love," she spits out. "And he’s more tolerable when he’s in a good mood, so…please just find him and fuck him and we can all move on."

"You think it’s that simple? We’ll just fall into bed and problems solved?" Chloe flushes a little.

Maze smiles slowly. "I’ve known an orgasm or three to be very beneficial and make problems seem very insignificant."

"Maze. I’ve been solving crimes for the last couple of years with the actual Devil and he’s babysat my daughter on multiple occasions since she was seven and…" Chloe trails off. "He’s become…I just feel like I’ve lost a pillar holding my life together right now. With all this…with these revelations."

"Revelation," Maze corrects automatically.

Chloe furrows her brow.

Maze rolls her eyes. "Sorry. Automatic. People always get it wrong. It’s the Book of Revelation not Revelations. Singular. Not plural."

Chloe stares at her. "…Right."

"What? Demons have nightmares too."

"Heaven on earth is a nightmare?"

"Well, yeah. The end of suffering?" Maze shudders. "Look, Decker, I can’t really help you out. You’re gonna have to woman up and talk to him. And I wasn’t kidding about the orgasms." She nods to the door. "Now get out. We open in an hour."

Chloe gets up and takes a few steps towards the stairs, stops, turns around, and says, "If you’re available…you can pick Trixie up from school on Thursday. Like usual. Just make sure she gets her homework done."

Maze nods once. Chloe lifts her hand in farewell and leaves.

It’s Saturday night and Trixie is at a sleepover and Chloe has opened a bottle of red wine and is staring at her text exchange with Lucifer.

There are even purple devil faces next to his name courtesy of Trixie, although maybe the red faced demon is more fitting, considering. She dismisses the thought immediately and takes a large gulp of wine.

Once she’s tipsy enough, she types:

When you’re ready, I would like to talk.

She panics as soon as she sends it and to distract herself by scrolling down her messages and finds Ella, who had recently sent her a meme.

From Chloe Decker:
Do you have any plans tomorrow? I think I need some distracting, if you’re available.

Also lol!

Chloe almost throws her phone across the room until she gets a series of quick texts.

From Ella Lopez;
I just have church in the morning, but after that, I’m free!

Chloe takes another sip of wine.

From Chloe Decker:
Do you mind if I come to church with you?

From Ella Lopez:
Not at all!!!

She goes to a church that’s a half hour away and prefers to attend the 9am mass. Ella arrives early and will save Chloe a seat on the left side of the church.

Chloe can’t even remember a time attending a church that wasn’t a wedding or a baptism. Her mom used to wear gaudy crosses when she was a child, but it was the eighties. She ultimately wasn’t raised as anything, really. Her grandparents were Lutheran and Presbyterian.

So a Catholic Church is…something. She doesn’t think she’s ever been inside one. But she knows enough to dress well – she’s not one for dresses, usually, but she pulls out a navy dress she had originally bought for work purposes and figured as soon as she brought it home that it wasn’t practical.

"Oh, Detective, this ensemble is delightful, why don’t you wear this?"

She inadvertently smiles when she zips herself into it. It used to fit like a glove, but now it’s a little loose; she didn’t realize how much weight she lost from the stress of the last two months.

She brings a cardigan since she’s not sure about the covering the shoulders issue and off she goes, fighting her mild hangover with coffee and a granola bar.

Chloe appreciates being greeted by Ella and not being questioned. Instead, Ella quietly directs Chloe on when to stand, when to sit, when to kneel.

She listens, not really knowing what she’s hoping to hear. The Devil isn’t mentioned, save for a reference to temptation and being delivered from evil.

"I’ll be back – receiving the body of Christ," Ella whispers, getting up.

Chloe remains where she is – one of the only people to do so. She watches young children to the elderly hold out their hands as the priest says the body of Christ to which they respond with amen.

Now that Chloe pretty much has confirmation that God is real, it’s strange to look at the rituals of religion that are performed out of faith.

Ella returns and there’s not much more of mass left before there’s a mass exodus. Chloe follows Ella out of the church and Ella says, "Do you want to grab a coffee? And maybe a pastry? I go every Sunday."

"Sounds perfect."

So they go to a small bakery that’s a hole in the wall and everyone knows and loves Ella. Chloe orders a latte and a pain au chocolat as a means of beginning to gain weight.

"So, what did you think? I’ve been going to that church for a couple of years now."

"The priest was very energetic," Chloe says. "Nice."

"Yeah, that’s why I like going there. Growing up I went to one that was so stuffy and the deacon scared the holy jingles out of me." Ella smiles and sips her drink. "I don’t want to pry since I know religion can be really personal, but given that you’ve never expressed interest before…are you okay?" She winces a little. "Does this have to do with…You-Know-Who because yeah, we all agreed he was a class A jerk, but I mean…" she trails off.

Chloe swallows her latte. "No, it’s not about Pierce. It’s actually, uh. I’m honestly worried about…Lucifer, and I just got to thinking about...God and good and evil. And I wanted to see one way to process it since I didn’t grow up with any religious affiliation."

Ella nods. "Yeah, that Lucifer. Really makes you think."

Chloe raises an eyebrow and doesn’t say anything.

"You know," Ella starts suddenly. "Before Lucifer, I always figured the devil and evil were synonymous, I mean, add the D to evil and you get Lucifer –"

Chloe snorts and brings a hand to her mouth. "Sorry," she says, unable to stop smiling. "Go on."

"But with Lucifer being around I guess I was able to separate it. That the potential for good and evil is in us, that the devil doesn’t make us do anything. We make our own choices."

"You could argue the Devil made one before being sent to Hell."

Ella gives her an impressed look. "Yeah, exactly!"

Separating Evil from the Devil (from Lucifer) once she thinks about it, is easy, especially when she thinks of all the good he’s done in the time she’s known him far outweigh the bad.

"I guess what I find difficult is how you can…believe in God. Our greatest ability is choice, right? But then he punishes us for it. How can you…"

Ella smiles faintly. "I know God is real, I feel it deeply in my heart. And just because I know it in the face of everything, that doesn’t mean I stop having faith."

"Or believing," Chloe chimes in.

Ella smiles at the reference. "Right. And yeah, it sucks that He isn’t stopping any of the BS happening in the world, but that’s where we come in. We’re still here and capable. We need to have faith in each other to get by. And as for Lucifer, he always comes back, so. Keep the faith." Ella laughs and shakes her head. "So many song references."

"We’re halfway there," Chloe adds.

"Livin’ on a prayer," Ella and Chloe say at the same time before laughing.

"But, seriously, I think Lucifer will be alright. I mean, if he takes after his namesake, he’s been through some pretty tough things. But, I’ll be sure to say an extra prayer for him."

Chloe smiles. "Thanks, Ella. I appreciate it."

"No problem! Now, I know Trixie is a sucker for chocolate, so I have to tell you, their mini chocolate lava cakes are ah-mazing."

When they part ways, when Chloe is back in her car, before she sticks her key into the ignition, she sends Lucifer another text:

I have faith in you – do you have faith in me?

Chloe visits her dad’s grave on the way back from church. She only has a few minutes before she has to pick up Trixie. She wants to have a moment, like in the movies, speaking to him like he was there. But instead her throat is swollen and she’s screaming in her head so there’s nothing but static.

She can’t think clearly. She feels – she misses her dad; it’s an ache that comes and goes and she feels it the most when she’s unsure, scared.

She’s still so goddamn scared.

But if she’s being concrete, weighing her emotions, there’s one that’s overwhelming everything else –

Tell me, Detective, what do you desire more than anything else in this life?

"To fucking see you, asshole," Chloe mutters, standing up and stomping to her car.

Thanks, Dad, she thinks randomly, glancing up at the sky. Suddenly, she smiles, laughs in joy and relief.

(There’s a Heaven, her dad is there, her grandparents – it’s not forever –)

I’ll see you soon.

Chloe tells Trixie that she’s going to try to see Lucifer, so Maze will be watching her. Maze gives an exaggerated wink and gives several humping gestures before Chloe shuts the door behind her.

Her hair is bent from having it in a tight ponytail for half the day, so she keeps it up and she’s still wearing this stupid dress that she’s donating this week – it’s too constricting and hot.

She lets herself into his penthouse and for a second, she’s afraid it’ll be covered with white sheets, but everything is the same.

She exhales and goes straight to his closet, changing out of the dress and into one his dress shirts. She pours herself wine. She eats an apple she finds in the refrigerator. She creates a grocery list for her house and for his penthouse. She pulls out a few books. She rinses out her wineglass and finds a clean toothbrush by the sink, like a high-end hotel.

She reads and falls asleep.

And wakes up suddenly to a weight dipping the mattress on one end, the penthouse dark save for the moonlight casting a cool glow.

"Evening, Detective."

She exhales and shuts her eyes.

"Sorry for startling you."

"It’s fine."

She rolls her head on her pillow to see him, but his back is toward her, head bent.

"Apologies for my rudeness, but I figured hiding my face is best for the time being."

She swallows. "Okay."

It’s quiet and awkward and the tipsiness she felt from the wine has long past.

"You barely have food in your fridge," Chloe says. "It’s ridiculous. Although the large amount of apples is, admittedly, very funny."

For a second, she thinks she’s said the wrong thing by the way his shoulders tense.

"You think so?" he asks quietly.

"Well, I guess it depends on what you’re going for. Or what it means to you."

"Seducing Eve?" he clarifies.

"I mean…if that never happened…we wouldn’t have any of this, right?" She’s proud of herself for keeping her voice even.

"Yes, that’s true." She can hear the smile in his voice. "Quite right."

She stares at the ceiling. "How are you?" she asks.

"How am I?" he questions, pained.

"I’ve had an interesting week," she continues. "I drank a lot of vodka, like, way too much; I’m not having it again in the near future; I was taught the Old Testament by my nine-year-old daughter, who was prompted by a demon to do so. I went to a mass for the first time in my life. I realized with all this, that I’ve got confirmation that I’m definitely seeing my dad and everyone else I’ve lost again after I die, and I’ve doubled down on my belief that you are not the devil." She stares at his back again. "Your self-loathing reflects on your face."

"Self-punishment," he says, almost like a correction.

She slowly sits up against the headboard. "Is that what it is?"

He doesn’t say anything.

She slams her head back. "Would it help if I said that…my finding out that it’s all true…didn’t change anything?"

"How could it not?"

"I mean, it took a little time to process, but nothing’s changed, has it? You’ve been honest since our first conversation, I was just too pragmatic to believe it. So that’s on me, I guess."

"It’s easy to be honest when the truth is so fantastical that nobody in their right mind would believe it," Lucifer sighs.

She gives him that.

"Does it hurt?" she asks softly.

"What?"

"Your face."

He exhales. "You know, Detective, it did in the beginning. Then I got used to it, almost enjoyed it. A little pain with my pleasure was always preferable," he throws in awkwardly. "But, now…yes. It does hurt."

She bites her bottom lip and quickly wipes her tears before they fall down her cheeks.

"Sympathy for the Devil?" He ventures.

"That’s the fourth song reference today."

"Oh?"

"I’ve got ‘Don’t Stop Believing’, ‘Keep the Faith,’ and ‘Livin’ on a Prayer.’ Now ‘Sympathy for the Devil.’"

"Impressive."

"I almost regret not texting you have a little faith in me, but hindsight’s twenty-twenty."

He tilts his head before he stops himself short.

She can imagine him singing it – just the piano and him.

And lovin’ a music man ain’t always what it’s supposed to be –

She snorts.

"What?"

"Just thought of another song. Another Journey one."

He exhales. "Oh, girl, you stand by me," he recites.

She doesn’t say the next line, but she feels it.

"For the record, I don’t need you to hide this face from me. But if you’re more comfortable with this seating arrangement, then that’s fine. But don’t do it on my account."

"…I’d rather not. For me."

"Okay." She yawns and slides down so she’s on her back. Once she’s settled, she says, "I’m going to sleep for another couple of hours. Feel free to get in."

He doesn’t say anything and eventually falls asleep.

A couple of hours later, she stretches in bed and she feels him close – his breath on her face and she keeps her eyes shut.

To her surprise, he chuckles lowly, the sound resonating in her chest.

"What?" she asks, her voice low and rough with sleep.

"You’re here with me, it’s like a dream," he says, amused.

It takes her a few seconds. She grimaces. "Of course. The blow job song," she sighs, failing completely at sounding irritated.

"Chloe."

She opens her eyes and he’s there – tanned skin, stubble, mused hair, brown eyes.

He’s scared.

She inches closer and presses her forehead against his. It’s familiar and her stomach flips.

"Do you remember when I asked you if you were scared of me?" he asks quietly.

She almost didn’t until she does. In her car. In the beginning. She said no.

"It’s still no," she responds.

He exhales, his breath a little shaky. "So here we are. We’ve admitted our feelings, we’ve kissed, and now we’re in my very nice bed and you’re not wearing trousers," he summarizes, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Well," she sighs, pretending to think. "Maze did say orgasms would help."

He raises an eyebrow in surprise. "She’s not wrong."

"Well, actually, she specifically said fuck, but –"

"Dirty, Detective."

"You rubbed off on me," she says with a smirk.

"Always knew you had it in you."

"Are we going to continue with the lame sexual puns or are you going to kiss me?"

Her breath catches in her throat when his mouth is there, so close, and he fills the distance with, "Are you sure?"

"If you ask me one more –" she stops short, remembering what Trixie mentioned. "Free will," she murmurs.

"Yes," he confirms.

"Consent is sexy, right?" she tries to joke, but it falls flat.

"You were a miracle child," he says.

She knows, she’s been told that by her mom and everyone else who knew her since infancy, but now she’s realizing the literal nature of the statement.

"Oh," she exhales.

She wishes she didn’t say anything – his pained expression upsets her.

"I always thought fate or destiny was a rare thing. Like, only certain, special things were meant to be. I was meant to be a cop, I was meant to be a mother, I was meant to be with Dan, even if it didn’t work out, and my best friend from high school, even though we barely talk anymore; I was meant to have this professor from college who ripped my essays apart, but made me that much better at writing. I was meant to have met you." She shrugs. "Destiny doesn’t have to be such a horrible thing."

"But…" he trails off, struggling. "You didn’t have a choice."

"In us meeting? No, but has it been such a horrible thing? I don’t think it has been. And besides: so God made sure we would cross paths – does that mean everything else was pre-determined? I thought that was our gift and our curse – free will. What about Linda and Maze and Trixie and Ella and Dan and everyone else in our lives? All those relationships, all those moments we’ve shared as a result. It’s like the ripple effect."

He stares at her, mulling her words in his head. She’s careful when she reaches over to cup his cheek.

"‘God’s a kid with an ant farm,’" she quotes.

"That was from a film," he notes immediately. " I was partial to the adaptation of me wearing a white suit. Nice touch."

She smiles. "Maze once said the depiction of Hell reminded her of home," she says dryly.

"Yes, well, major flaw is we don’t take everyone who commits suicide. Only the special cases."

"Good to know."

They rest in silence. She stares at the way his hair curls against the pillow and the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"So, do we agree?" she questions.

He furrows his brow in confusion.

"Yes, God may have ensured us meeting, but that doesn’t mean I had no choice in everything else. And I…" her voice tapers off. "I would really like to spend the rest of the morning making out before I have to relieve Maze from watching Trixie."

He raises an eyebrow and tries not to laugh. "Sounds like a plan."

It’s not immediate – it takes time to recover from talking about life and fate and God; heavy topics, but also Chloe is sympathetic to not wanting to talk about parents in bed.

But eventually she kisses him and he kisses back – she expected a little more finesse from him, but they’re both nervous and overwhelmed and she appreciates this so much more.

She loses track of time and is dizzy when his lips trail to her cheek, to her ear to whisper, "I think you need to attend to your spawn."

She rolls her eyes, but loses breath when his stubble scratches against the skin of her neck.

"Staff development day – no school," she manages to say.

She guides him back to her lips. After a minute (or five, or ten), she asks, "Do you want breakfast?" She smiles. "I can make apple cinnamon waffles or pancakes," she teases.

"Really?"

"Trixie misses you."

He sighs. "Well, it would be rude of me not to thank her for the card –"

She kisses him again and they’re distracted for a while, but eventually the sun starts pouring through his bedroom and she forces herself to sit vertically.

She pats his cheek and he smiles, stealing a kiss to the palm of her hand. "I need time to tell her," she says. "After what happened –" she starts, wincing.

"As you wish," he interrupts her, getting out of bed. She finds it oddly sweet that he wore his clothes to bed. "By the way, I’ve never seen you wear that dress before," he continues, nodding to the dress she wore yesterday that’s folded over the chair in the corner.

"And you never will again – it’s uncomfortable," she says. "As soon as I get home, it’s going in the wash and then to Goodwill."

"Now, now, let’s not be hasty –"

"Enjoy it while it’s on."

It takes her a while to put it on since there’s a conversation to be had about his staring at her and yes, they may be together and yes, he has seen her in various forms of unclothed (including fully unclothed, but she doesn’t need to think about that right now), but that doesn’t mean he can just stare –

She sighs and unbuttons his shirt efficiently and quickly, taking care to drape it across the chair and picking up her dress, but is stopped by Lucifer’s hand. He looks down at her and she’s ready to fight until she realizes his eyes are focused on her chest, where she was shot, the bruise almost gone.

"I’m fine," she says. "Thank you."

He nods. His temple turns pink, red, enflamed –

She takes his hand and places it over the bruise, his fingertips on her neck to feel her pulse, the heel of his hand almost over her heart as she kisses him. She’s mindful of where she puts her hands on his face, but she trusts him not to hurt her, which seems to help him center himself.

"Sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Going to need to work on that."

Chloe smiles slowly. "Well, it’s a good thing you’re in therapy, isn’t it?"

He grins back.

She’s driving them back to her house and the windows are down. She’s back in her terrible dress, although his appreciative looks do make her feel a little better about it. He has his head back and sunglasses on, singing along to "The Bitch is Back," which she’s trying not to laugh at. She wonders about her job’s policy of dating consultants, but figures that dilemma can wait a while.

Trixie squeals when Chloe and Lucifer walk in and Chloe is used to Lucifer’s various facial expressions of discomfort when Trixie is tactile, but there’s a look of fondness when he (briefly) returns her hug.

Maze, a safe distance away, gives one humping gesture behind them until she looks Chloe up and down, then Lucifer, and then rolls her eyes. "PG," she scoffs.

"Maze," Chloe says sharply.

"I’d say it was PG-13," Lucifer says, patting Trixie on the head.

"Did you guys watch a movie?" Trixie asks innocently.

Chloe sighs. "Yeah, Monkey. Uh Maze, thank you. I really appreciate it."

"All good. I’m gonna head out – this domesticity is making me nauseous. Later."

"Bye Maze!"

Maze shoots Trixie a wave before seeing herself out.

Chloe makes apple cinnamon pancakes with some of the many apples from Lucifer’s fridge. Trixie shows Lucifer her "OLD TESTAMENT 101" project and he listens intently, waits until she’s finished until he whispers in her ear. Chloe watches Trixie’s eyes light up, gasping in delight.

"I better add more!" Trixie says, wobbling with her large poster into her bedroom.

Chloe raises an eyebrow at him. "Dare I ask?"

"Some additions were required to her project in order for it to be accurate."

"Like?"

"Patience, Detective. Beatrice will tell you soon enough." He sniffs the air and sighs. "That smells delicious."

She outdoes herself, if she does say so herself. She makes Trixie eat at least half of her plate before she excitedly dives into the presentation, fast-forwarding through the information she already covered, but adding new information, like Heaven being split, torn apart by Lucifer’s rebellion, why Lucifer did it –

"But, according to a very reliable source, Lucifer wanted free will – Heaven wasn’t the perfect place it claimed to be, so he fought for his own path, instead of interpreting God’s will. So, in conclusion, I was right! Lucifer was the first instance of free will."

Chloe looks to Lucifer, who is smiling with pride, fondness, triumph. Linda was right – he’s just as human as the rest of them, better than most, and –

"Brilliant work," Lucifer commends, reaching into his pocket for a money clip with too many bills. "Now, I think –"

"That will certainly go towards Trixie’s college tuition!" Chloe finishes for him with a bright smile on her face as a warning.

Lucifer rolls his eyes. "Really, Detective, she’s a bright nine-year-old, she can handle a few hundred dollars –"

Trixie beams. "I want rollerblades with light up wheels and Hermione’s wand and a cape with pockets."

Chloe brings a hand to her forehead.

"More coffee, Detective?" Lucifer offers, not waiting for a response before getting to the coffeemaker with her half-empty mug. When he comes back to the table and places the mug in front of her, he sits down and places a hand on her upper back for a brief moment. She doesn’t know why her heart stutters, but she hides it by taking a large sip of coffee.

Maze is right, it is almost nauseatingly domestic, but Chloe fucking loves it, and judging by Lucifer occasionally dancing his fingertips over the back of her hand that’s resting on her leg, she can deduce that she’s not alone.