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“Sorry, but rules are rules. You want to go inside, you got to get naked. Either that or get a warrant.” The security man stood his ground.
Chloe blinked, incredulous. Even for the LAPD, this was a whole new level of insanity. Nudity as an investigative requirement? Her jaw tightened. A man had been murdered. There was absolutely no way she was stripping down in the middle of an investigation. No. Way.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’ll get a warrant.”
She pulled out her phone and quickly texted Ella to recover the aforementioned warrant.
Need a warrant from Judge Vickers for the nudist colony ASAP. Can you handle it?
As she hit send, Chloe turned around, hoping she could get some backup from her so-called partner. As a matter-of-fact, she knew Lucifer could talk his way out of even the most unorthodox situations. "Luci—" The words dried up in her throat the very moment her eyes landed on him; her jaw dropped, her brain struggling to comprehend what was going on before her.
In all of his birth-suit glory stood Lucifer. He was naked—really, very, naked—as this was the most natural thing in the world.
“LUCIFER!” Chloe spat, her voice a mix of horror and disbelief. She instinctively threw her hands up to shield her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from peeking through her fingers, which only made things worse. Much worse.
He turned to her with his signature devilish, shit-eater grin, utterly unfazed by his lack of clothing. “What? I’m simply following the rules, Detective. You heard the man—clothing is strictly prohibited.”
“Put some clothes on!” she hissed, her face burning as she spun around, presenting him with her back. She pressed her fingers to her temples, as if to physically rub away the image now seared into her mind. “We are professionals, Lucifer! Professionals!”
Behind her, Lucifer chuckled, a rich, amused sound that only made her more flustered. “Oh, come on, Detective,” he said smoothly. “This is nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Chloe groaned, refusing to turn around. “This is work, Lucifer, not one of your hedonistic adventures. For once in your life, could you take this seriously?”
“Oh, but I am taking it seriously,” Lucifer said, his voice inching closer. “You know me—always willing to go to great lengths in pursuit of justice. And if it means shedding my worldly possessions, then so be it.”
She screwed her eyes shut to will her racing pulse to quit. God, how she hated that he could take anything—anything—and turn it into an opportunity to fluster her. "This is not what 'great lengths' means," she ground out.
“Well, it depends on your perspective,” he quipped, the smirk in his tone clear.
Chloe whirled around despite herself, her finger pointed accusingly at him, but instantly regretted it. She flinched and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please tell me this isn’t happening.”
Lucifer stepped forward, now completely in the buff, strutting past her with confidence. “Don’t worry, Detective,” he called back teasingly. “I’ll handle this.”
Chloe groaned, her mind forcefully racing in circles; a naked Lucifer, strutting into a nudist sanctuary, was the epitome of an upcoming disaster.
What was bothering her wasn't as much the nakedness, but him acting like he was some sort of property owner here. There was no way he wouldn't mess this up. For sure he would ignite an incident that would splash them across tomorrow's gossip.
She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging in defeat. They needed answers, and fast. If letting him go in alone was the only option, then—no! Absolutely not.
“Wait!” she called out, her voice sharper than she intended.
Lucifer stopped in his tracks and turned, that maddening grin still plastered on his face. “Yes, Detective?” he drawled, the picture of smugness.
"I—" Chloe hesitated, every fiber of her being actually resisting what she was about to say. "I can’t let you go in there alone—you'll screw this up."
Lucifer tilted his head, his grin widening. "So you’re coming with me? Oh, Detective, I knew you couldn’t resist."
"Don’t push it," she snapped, jabbing a finger in his direction. "This is strictly professional."
"Of course," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Professional nudity. Such a noble cause, indeed.”
Chloe shot him a glare, but his smug look only made her more determined. If he could waltz in there completely unbothered, then so could she. Right? Right!?
With a deep breath, she unbuttoned her blouse, her hands shaking a little. "Don’t look at me," she muttered.
Lucifer whipped around, his back to her. "Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it," he said, though his tone betrayed just how much he was enjoying her discomfort.
Chloe slipped off her blouse before she hesitated at her jeans, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
"You’re doing great, Detective," Lucifer called over his shoulder, his voice maddeningly cheerful.
"Shut up, Lucifer," she muttered, unzipping her jeans and stepping out of them. She stood there for a moment in her underwear, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, heart pounding wildly. She tried to remind herself that this was just for the case, that she had to do her job no matter what, but the awareness of Lucifer’s presence—so close, so casual in his nudity—made her skin tingle in ways she didn’t want to examine too closely.
"There," she said, her voice unsteady. "Good enough."
Lucifer looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Not quite. You heard the man—no clothes allowed."
Chloe’s jaw tightened. "This is ridiculous."
"Perhaps," he agreed, "but rules are rules.”
Chloe looked at the security guard, who nodded solemnly. She groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. "I can’t believe I’m doing this," she muttered, unclasping her bra and letting it fall.
Lucifer turned fully now, his gaze softening as he took her in—not leering, not teasing, just... looking. "See?" he said, his voice quieter, almost genuine. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."
Chloe rolled her eyes, though her cheeks were aflame. She yanked off her underwear and crossed her arms over herself in record time, glaring at Lucifer. "If you say one word—"
"Not a word," he promised.
She reached for his arm, dragging him toward the entrance. "Let’s just get this over with.”
Lucifer practically strutted into the nudist colony, his bare skin shining under the sun, completely at ease with the attention he was drawing. Chloe felt her heart rate increase with every step she was taking. She hadn't really prepared for this. The scene just felt like something out of a dream—or a nightmare, depending on which way you looked at it. Everyone around her seemed so relaxed, so comfortable with their bodies, yet she was tense, stiff, like a deer caught in headlights.
She muttered under her breath, “This is mortifying. I cannot believe I’m doing this.”
“Oh, Detective, relax,” Lucifer said, casting over his shoulder at her. “You look absolutely radiant. Though, I must say, you could work on your posture. Shoulders back, chin up—it’s all about confidence.”
“Confidence isn’t the issue, Lucifer,” Chloe hissed. “We’re supposed to be professional.”
"And we are," he returned with a smooth smile, waving back at a knot of sunbathers who were waving with marked delight. "What's more professional than blending in?"
Chloe groaned, her eyes darting around as if searching out any opportunity to run. "Blending in doesn't mean drawing attention to yourself!”
As Lucifer approached the juice bar, his face lit up with the excitement of a man who had just stumbled upon some kind of buried treasure. Several jugs of colorfully colored juices shone under the sun: Mango Colada, Beet Nirvana, Aloe Citrus Sunrise. A juicer whirred loudly in the background, tended by an overly enthusiastic naked bartender.
“Ah, at last,” Lucifer said, his voice oozing with mock wonder. “An oasis within this desert of questionable life choices. Detective, clearly where we are meant to be.”
Chloe, already regretting walking toward the bar, crossed her arms. “We’re not here for drinks, Lucifer.”
“Nonsense,” Lucifer replied, reaching for a glass adorned with an umbrella and labeled Cucumber Bliss. “Even the Devil needs proper hydration. He took an exaggerated sip, pausing dramatically to swirl it in his mouth like it was fine wine. Then he grimaced. “Good God, it tastes like regret. And celery. My father would definitely have appreciated this one. Taste like the old man own crap.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, reaching for her own glass out of sheer exasperation. “Let me guess, you’re going to complain about every single one until you find something remotely tolerable.”
“Of course not, Detective,” he replied with mock seriousness. “I fully intend to suffer through each one. For science.”
She took a cautious sip of the Mango Colada, and found it very refreshing. “That one is actually pretty good.”
Before Lucifer could take a sip of his Kiwi Kale Bliss smoothie, another bartender squeezed past them, accidentally jostling Lucifer’s elbow. The glass in his hand tipped forward, sending a stream of green juice flying.
It landed straight on Chloe’s shoulder and dripped down her breast like slime.
She froze, her entire body stiffening.
“Oh, dear,” Lucifer said, barely hiding his smirk. “Detective, it seems you’re ready for a natural body scrub.”
Chloe shot him a death glare, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Yet Lucifer was already moving, grabbing a napkin off the counter with a swing. “Here, I’ve got your back. Well… your breast, actually,” he said, as he reached out.
“Don’t!” Chloe warned, backing away, but it was too late.
He leaned in, dabbing at her shoulder first. “There, there,” he said soothingly.
“Lucifer!” Chloe snapped, slapping his hand away as he attempted to clean the juice from her collarbone. “Stop it!”
“But I’m being helpful!” he protested.
“You’re making it worse!” she barked, glaring at him.
The bartender, noticing the commotion, grabbed a pitcher of water. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”
Before Chloe could protest, the bartender splashed the entire pitcher over her in what he clearly thought was an act of heroism.
She stood there, dripping wet, staring at the bartender with an expression that could only be described as homicidal.
Lucifer, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter, clutching his sides. “Detective, you’re absolutely radiant,” he managed between gasps. “Positively glowing!”
“Oh, I’m glowing, all right,” Chloe muttered through gritted teeth. “With murder in my eyes.” She grabbed a glass of Beet Nirvana from the counter and dumped it unceremoniously over Lucifer’s head.
He froze, the red juice dripping down his face and chest like he’d walked out of a horror movie.
“There,” Chloe said, her voice deadpan. “Now we’re even.”
Lucifer wiped a hand down his face, flicking the juice off his fingers with exaggerated drama. “Touché, Detective. But you do realize this makes us the most colorful duo here.”
She groaned, dragging him away from the juice bar. “Let’s just get back to work before you find another way to make a fool of ourselves.”
Lucifer grinned, trailing after her like an amused puppy. “Oh, Detective, I’m only getting started.”
As they turned the corner toward the snack table, Chloe came to a dead stop, her eyes wide. "What now?" she asked, following Lucifer's gaze.
There stood a show man, in all his naturist glory, juggling flaming batons with reckless enthusiasm. He was grinning from ear to ear, oblivious to the growing crowd and the increasingly nervous expressions around him.
“Magnificent. A man after my own heart! Danger, drama, and a touch of flamboyance,” Lucifer pointed out with sheer admiration.
“Lucifer, don’t—” Chloe began, but it was too late. Lucifer do.
He had already approached the show man, clapping slowly. “Bravo, my fiery friend! I must say, your technique is positively... incendiary.”
The juggler beamed. “Thanks, man! Been practicing for weeks. Wanna give it a go?”
“No, no, no!” Chloe called, striding over. “Don’t encourage—”
But one of the flaming batons had already been taken by Lucifer, who coolly flipped it in the air with a flick of the wrist. "Detective, you should know by now that I'm a natural at everything."
"Lucifer… just put it down!" Chloe snapped.
"Oh, relax, I got this.”
And for about five seconds, he actually did. Lucifer managed a few impressive tosses, the flames twirling through the air in mesmerizing arcs. But then he got cocky.
“Watch and learn,” he said, attempting an elaborate behind-the-back throw.
The baton sailed through the air—straight into the fruit platter on the snack table.
A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers as the platter erupted in a small burst of flames.
The juggler jumped forward, brandishing a pineapple in a frenzied attempt to beat out the flames. "It's cool! It's cool! Nothing to see here!"
"Lucifer!" Chloe shouted, grabbing a pitcher of cucumber ‘detox’ water from the juice bar and flinging it onto the table.
Lucifer just stood there, impassive, brushing off an imaginary speck of soot off his shoulder. "Well, that's one way to heat up an appetizer.”
Chloe whirled on him, her face reddening. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“Yes,” he replied smoothly. “I added a touch of drama to an otherwise dull fruit display. You’re welcome.”
The show man groaned, holding up the charred remains of a watermelon. “Dude, you ruined the centerpiece!”
Lucifer laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked deeply apologetic-well, as apologetic as he could fake. "I'm dreadfully sorry. Truly. And I'll make it up to you personally, I won't press charge on you because you offered me a flaming weapon.”
Chloe dragged Lucifer away before the fire juggler could say a word, still muttering under her breath. “You’re lucky they don’t kick us out after this,” she groaned. “Now Focus, Lucifer. We’re here to do a job, not take a vacation.”
“Who says we can’t do both?” he replied with a wink.
Chloe shot him a glare. He was impossible—but he was hers to deal with.
They hadn't walked very far before they came to the pool area. A glinting turquoise expanse ran before them, lined by loungers, cabanas, and a handful of naturists either sunbathing or enjoying the water. Chloe's tension cranked up a notch.
"Lucifer," she warned, her mind racing ahead to what he would do next.
But he was already off across the lawn, his eyes lighting up as he spotted a floating lounge chair drifting lazily across the water.
"No!" Chloe grabbed at his arm, trying to yank him back. "We don't have time for this!”
“We have plenty,” he said, shaking her off with infuriating ease. “This is the perfect opportunity to blend in, Detective. You should try it.”
“Try what? Lounging around like we’re on vacation while a killer is out there?”
He turned back to her, and his face relaxed a trifle. "Relax, Detective. You'll run off the potential witnesses by looking like you'd rather be anywhere but here."
She opened her mouth to retort, but he forestalled her by reaching out and gently taking her hand. The suddenness of his gesture froze her.
“Come on,” he said, his voice dropping into a soothing tone she rarely heard. “Trust me for once. It’ll be easier to get answers if you’re not radiating tension.”
She hesitated, but the warmth of his hand and the genuine reassurance in his gaze made her relent. “Fine,” she muttered, allowing him to lead her to the edge of the pool.
Lucifer got in the water first, sliding down with an audible sigh of satisfaction. “Ah, divine.” He turned back to her, holding out a hand. “Join me?”
Chloe crossed her arms, eyeing him skeptically. “This isn’t exactly protocol.”
“Neither is solving a case naked,” he pointed out with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. She hunched a shrugged sigh and stepped into the pool—the cool water was instantly soothing on her overheated skin. She allowed herself to sink right up to her shoulders, hiding her body underwater.
"There now," he said, softer. "Better isn't it?"
Chloe had to admit it was. The water was calming, and for the first time since stepping in unknown territory, she felt herself relax a bit.
“I hate that you’re right,” she muttered.
He chuckled, the sound rich and low. “I’ll take that as a victory.”
Floating at the edge of the pool, a few naturists caught up in light conversation with them. Much to Chloe's surprise, Lucifer was less theatrically charming, and his questions were smooth and easy—people didn’t suspect a thing as they found themselves at ease around him.
She found herself watching him as his playful demeanor changed into something more sincere, he was actually helping.
“See?” he said quietly to her at one point, catching her gaze. “Not all my methods are maddening.”
She huffed a soft laugh. “I’ll admit, you’re good at this... when you’re not being a pain in my ass.”
“Oh, Det—"
"Nope." She popped the p with emphasize. "Don't you dare make a dirty pun."
“You wound me," he said with a mock-wounded look.
“I will, if you keep this up,” she shot back, but the warmth in her tone betrayed her.
Later, as they were getting out of the pool, Chloe couldn't help but smile—really smile—when Lucifer handed her a towel with a low bow.
"Thank you," she said in a much softer voice than before.
He winked. "Anything for you, Detective."
For a moment, as she dried off, the absurdity of their situation faded into the background. She felt... safe, despite everything. And that, she realized, was entirely because of him.
"Lucifer," she said, catching his attention as he turned for his own towel.
He looked back at her, one brow raised in question.
"Thanks. Really," she said simply, the word carrying more weight than it seemed.
His expression softened, his usual cocky grin replaced with something gentler. "Anytime."
Chloe felt a little lighter—and a lot more grateful for her ridiculous, infuriating, utterly irreplaceable partner. And, truth be told, she enjoyed the sight of Lucifer's bare ass very—very—much. Even though she wouldn’t admit it. He would never let her live that down. In fact, she wasn’t sure he’d let her survive this little episode at all, anyway. Still, as she lowered her guard, more willingly than the first time, and found herself naked again, she had to admit that Lucifer had, so far, managed to keep himself in check with her. So, maybe they'd never speak of this again once they stepped outside.
Well…. Just maybe.
“Lucifer! Chloe did ask for the warrant and you didn't even nother to wait for it—which isn’t actually surprising coming from you but damn...” Ella muttered as she joined the two of them. She slapped said warrant against Lucifer’s bare ass, not the least bothered by his nudity.
“Hey!” Lucifer’s jolted.
“That is for Judge Vickers. He's not the easiest to convince, and... Oh Decker, you're naked!” Ella blurted out, her gaze fully taking her in.
Chloe's cheeks flushed crimson as the full realization hit her—she was completely exposed in front of another person who knew her far too well. Instinctively, she scrambled to cover herself with her arms, her embarrassment palpable again. Lucifer, however, was the picture of calm, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the lovely Miss Lopez, here to save the day,” Lucifer drawled, not even attempting to mask his enjoyment of the situation.
Ella, blissfully oblivious to Chloe’s mortification, practically buzzed with excitement as her eyes darted around, taking in everything with awe. “This is so cool!” Her gaze flickered between Chloe and Lucifer, and with zero hesitation, she started peeling off her jacket and yanked her shirt over her head.
Chloe’s eyes widened. “Ella! What are you—?”
But Ella was already unbuttoning her jeans. “Bucket list,” she shrugged, tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair without a second thought.
Chloe and Lucifer both exchanged a surprised glance, somehow caught off guard by Ella’s boldness. But Chloe quickly regained her composure, clearing her throat and pulling herself together.
“Okay, well…” Chloe began, her voice slightly strained but determined, “We’ve got a lead. Let’s head to the hot tub to meet Julian McCaffrey. Now.”
Lucifer’s grin stretched wider, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Sounds thrilling. Are we redoing the Hot Tub High School scene, then? Perhaps a—”
“Don’t you dare finish this sentence, Lucifer,” Chloe snapped, cutting him off before he could go any further. Her tone left no room for argument.
“Fine. Let's get back to work, then, Mesdames. Shall we?”
NB: They did resolve the case.