Chapter Text
Chloe opened the front door of her apartment and slowly walked inside. She dropped her bag next to the door, a tired sigh escaping her lips. A long, brutal day of interrogations, dead-ends, and paperwork had sapped what little energy was left in her body. She was ready for the usual solitude—perhaps a glass of wine and a hot shower—but, all of sudden, the sight before her halted her every step; something—someone—had sneaked inside of her apartment: Lucifer .
Her partner was sprawled across her couch, his usual immaculate appearance nowhere to be seen—his tie undone, his shirt half-buttoned and showing just a hint of his sun-kissed skin, and an empty whisky glass swinging precariously from his fingers.
"Detective!" he slurred beaming, stretching as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "A delight to see you, as always. I thought you'd never come home."
Chloe stared at him for a moment, the shock registering only slowly. She closed the door behind her. "Lucifer?" She raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here? And are you... drunk?"
He sat up—or at least tried to, nearly tipping over before catching himself. “Drunk? Me? Of course not. I can't get drunk on normal, human amounts of alcohol,”he said, the words slurred as he gestured. “I am simply… delightfully relaxed.”
Chloe’s lips twitched, but she fought the smile. It wasn’t every day she saw Lucifer Morningstar so far from his normal perfectly composed self. “And, tell me... have you been drinking normal , human amounts of alcohol?”
Lucifer chuckled, the usual mischievous spark going through his eyes. "I don't think so.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow higher as she eyed him closer. There was a definite slur to his words, and he was swaying just enough to raise her concerns. "Right… Well, where's your car? Please tell me you didn't drive like this."
"Fear not, Detective," he said, placing a hand to his chest. "Maze was my noble steed tonight."
"Good," she said, shrugging off her jacket. "And why are you here instead of at Lux?”
Lucifer's grin widened as he leaned back, draping himself across her couch like a king on his throne. "Because you, my dear Detective, were the destination . I thought, what better way to end the evening than basking in your delightful company ?"
Chloe crossed her arms, eyeing him skeptically. "And by basking, you mean raiding my whisky stash?"
"Only the good stuff," he admitted with a wink, holding up the empty glass.
Chloe rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled up. "Alright, Mr. Delightfully Relaxed. Let's get you some water before you pass out."
As she headed toward the kitchen, Lucifer was stumbling to his feet, heading after her. "You know, Detective," he began, leaning heavily against the counter, "I think tonight I have had an epiphany."
"Oh. Well… this is going to be a long evening," Chloe muttered, pouring him a glass of cold water and handing it to him.
He took it and downed it in a single gulp before resuming, “I realized that you—yes, you Detective —are the most intoxicating thing in my life. More than whisky, more than red wine, even more than karaoke night at Lux with the Britneys around.”
Chloe snorted and shook her head. “Wow. High praise.”
Lucifer stepped closer, gazing at her with an earnestness that almost made her forget he was tipsy—kind of. “I mean it, Chloe. You’re… different. You’re my safe place.”
Her breath caught. For a moment, she wondered if she should take his words seriously or chalk them up to the whisky talking. But before she could respond, he theatrically downed the glass of water, slammed it on the counter, and declared, “And now, I demand snacks !”
The moment shattered, and Chloe burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Correct,” he replied with a satisfied smirk.
Chloe grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry and tossed it to him. “Here. And stay on the couch this time. If you break something, I’m sending you the bill.”
Lucifer caught the bag with exaggerated flair and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am!”
As he flopped back onto the couch, happily munching, Chloe couldn’t help but smile. Tipsy Lucifer was a handful, but he was her handful.
And, much as she loathed to admit it, she didn’t mind the company.
She settled into the armchair across from Lucifer and watched him munch on chips, his long legs sprawled across her coffee table. He looked more like a mischievous teenager than the Devil himself.
“So,” she began, tilting her head, “what exactly led to your little epiphany tonight? Or should I say… your slightly tipsy journey to my apartment?”
Lucifer paused mid-bite, the chip in his hand hovering near his mouth. “Ah, yes. That.” He sat up straighter, adopting an air of dramatic gravitas. “Picture this, Detective: Lux was buzzing, the music was electric, and yet…” He trailed off, placing a hand on his chest as if wounded. “I found myself inexplicably bored .”
“Bored?” Chloe raised an eyebrow. “At Lux? That’s a first.”
“Indeed,” Lucifer nodded solemnly. “So, naturally, I sought solace in a fine vintage whisky. And as the evening wore on and the bottle grew lighter, I had a startling realization.” He leaned forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “You, Chloe Jane Decker, are the only person who never bores me. Ever.”
Chloe felt her cheeks heat, but she waved a hand dismissively. “You’re drunk, Lucifer.”
"Drunk in love, probably," he said, lying back, "and that's not it, either," he said, quietening further, “You’re… grounding. Do you know how rare that is for someone like me? To feel… tethered?”
Chloe’s smile faltered, her heart unexpectedly aching at the sincerity in his tone. “Lucifer…”
He waved a hand, cutting her off. "But enough of my profound revelations! Let's talk about something truly important.”
“And what’s that?” she asked warily though his previous statement still lingered.
Lucifer grinned, the mischievous spark returning. “Karaoke. When are we doing it? Because, Detective, I’ve decided that you and I are destined for a duet.”
Chloe groaned, laughing despite herself. “I don’t sing.”
“Nonsense! Everyone sings,” Lucifer leapt up, striking the pose. “I can picture it: you and I, center stage, belting out a power ballad to an adoring crowd.”
“Pass,” she said firmly, crossing her arms.
“Don’t be in such a rush to dismiss it,” he teased, coming closer. “I happen to have an excellent repertoire of duets. And if I recall, you owe me for saving your life at least a dozen times.”
Chloe rolled her eyes but smiled. “Nice try. But I saved your sorry ass more than once too.”
“Ah, but wouldn’t it be fun?” Lucifer pressed, leaning down so they were almost nose-to-nose. His grin was infectious, and Chloe found herself fighting the urge to laugh again.
“You’re relentless,” she said, shaking her head.
“And you’re avoiding the subject,” he shot back, plopping down next to her on the armrest of her chair. “Which makes me think you secretly do want to sing with me.”
Chloe shoved him playfully. “You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly irresistible,” he quipped, catching himself before he slid off the armrest.
For a moment, the room fell quiet, the playful banter giving way to a softer silence. Chloe glanced at him, noting the way his gaze had softened, the teasing edge replaced by something warmer.
“Thank you, Chloe,” he said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“For what?”
“For letting me be here,” he said, his smile faint but genuine. “Even when I’m a complete mess.”
She chuckled, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “You’re welcome. But next time, bring snacks with you.”
Lucifer laughed, the sound filling the room and warming her chest.
"Duly noted, Detective," he said, rising in a fluid motion, swaying momentarily, and gesturing expansively toward the kitchen; the gesture almost threw him off balance. "Detective, I owe you a drink fit for your incomparable company. To the bar!"
Chloe snorted, yanking him straight by the arm before he overbalanced onto the couch again. "You're a walking distillery already, Lucifer. Perhaps we really need to work on just keeping you upright first.”
“Ah, but that would rob me of the opportunity to showcase my unparalleled bartending skills,” he replied, grinning as he dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “Trust me, Detective, I’m as steady as—whoa!” His foot caught on the edge of the coffee table, sending him careening forward. Chloe instinctively grabbed him, but the momentum dragged her down with him.
They landed in a heap on the floor, Chloe sprawled across Lucifer’s chest as he blinked up at her in surprise. “Well,” he drawled, his grin widening, “if you wanted to be on top, Detective, you only had to ask.”
“Shut up, Lucifer,” Chloe muttered, trying to push herself up. But her hand slipped on the polished wood floor, and she collapsed back onto him with a groan.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her. “Take your time, Detective. I’m perfectly comfortable.”
She grumbled, finally managing to disentangle herself and stand. She offered him a hand, which he took with exaggerated flair, pulling himself up dramatically. Then he dusted himself off with far too much dignity for someone who had just faceplanted.
Chloe rolled her eyes and turned toward the kitchen. “Fine. If you’re determined to mix something, let’s just get it over with before you break something—or yourself.”
Lucifer followed her, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he leaned against the counter, surveying the liquor bottles Chloe had accumulated over the years. “Prepare yourself, Detective. I’m about to create a masterpiece of flavor and finesse. A drink that embodies the very essence of—”
“You’ve already spilled half the whisky,” Chloe pointed out, pointing to the puddle on the counter where his unsteady hands had knocked over a bottle.
He looked at the mess, then back at her, unperturbed. “Art is messy,” he declared, grabbing a dish towel to mop it up—only to miss most of the spill and knock over a glass in the process.
Chloe crossed her arms, biting back a laugh as she watched him fumble. “Some artist.”
Lucifer finally managed to clean the mess, though his concoction—an alarming mix of whisky, gin, and something neon blue—looked more like a chemistry experiment gone wrong than a drink. He held it up with a triumphant smile. “Et voilà!”
Chloe looked into the glass and shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, come now, Detective,” he said, pushing the glass toward her. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“It’s actually firmly rooted in self-preservation,” she said, but before she could argue much more, Lucifer himself was dramatically sipping the mixture.
His face immediately twisted in some mix of confusion and horror as he swallowed. "Hmmm," he said, his voice hoarse. "Must be an acquired taste, I suppose.”
Chloe couldn't hold it any longer and burst out laughing. Lucifer bowed deeply to her, as if her laughter was applause.
"You're such a disaster," she choked out, laughing.
"And yet, you wouldn't have me any other way," he returned, grinning as he instead poured them both glasses of plain whisky. "To us, Detective," he toasted, raising his glass.
"To me surviving you," she replied, clinking her glass against his.