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It was nearly nine o’clock on a Tuesday morning, and the Detective still wasn’t at work.
Lucifer frowned.
Glancing at his watch for the tenth time, he craned his neck to see the entrance to the bullpen.
Still nothing. Where was she?
He took his phone out of his suit jacket. No missed calls or texts, not even messages in the WhatsApp group.
Was she stuck in traffic? Had there been an accident? What if she’d gotten hurt?
Anxiety surged in his chest, clenching his heart. Doom scenarios raced through his mind as he looked at her empty chair – at the cup of coffee cooling down.
“Daniel!”
Dan almost jumped out of his desk chair. He dropped the stress ball he’d been fiddling with. “Jesus Christ, dude! You almost gave me a heart attack. What’s wrong?”
“The Detective isn’t here.” Lucifer pointed at the clock above the door to the lab. “She’s never late. What’s wrong? Is she okay? Do I have to go to her?”
Daniel grinned. He rolled over in his desk chair and bumped his fist against his shoulder. “Dude, I never thought you would so lovesick, but here we are.”
“I’m not lovesick, I’m worried.”
“Relax, man.” Dan handed him the stress ball. He shrugged. “Trixie got sick this morning. She’s dropping her off at Penelope’s before she’s coming over here.”
“Sick? What did the urchin get down with this time?”
“Flu. It’s been going around at school like a wildfire. It’s probably going to hit me too one of these days.”
Lucifer shuddered. Elementary schools were so supremely unhygienic. “Perhaps I should ask Miss Lopez to borrow one of her hazmat suits.”
Maybe even grab a couple of mouth masks while he was at it. And where did the precinct keep their spare supply of hand soap?
Dan gave him a confused look. “I thought you were the literal Devil. Why are you so worried about a little flu going around?”
“It’s not for me, you idiot –“
The rest of his sentence died on his tongue, because the Detective stood in the opening to the bullpen.
And she was looking a lot paler than usual.
“Detective!” Lucifer bounced up with a million-watt smile. “You’re finally here! I got you your favorite latte, and – Detective?”
Chloe swayed on her feet, barely catching herself on one of the glass dividers. Her eyes went wide as she clutched her stomach.
Without another word, she bolted down the hallway.
“Uh-oh,” Dan said, craning his neck to watch her sprint away. “I think Trix might have passed on some of her germs.”
“How lovely.” Lucifer put down the two cups of coffee. “Wait here.”
First the urchin didn’t contribute to the rent and now she was making her parents sick as well? People must really love their children.
At a brisk jog, he went after her and into the ladies’ restroom – which was thankfully abandoned. One of the stall doors stood half-open.
“Detective?” he called out, knocking on the door with a single knuckle. “Are you alright, love? Can I come in?”
Chloe was hunched over the toilet, kneeling on the tile floor. She sat with her back to him and was breathing heavily.
“Lucifer, now is not the time –“
Her words were cut off by a retching sound, followed by vomiting into the toilet bowl.
“Oh, dear.” Lucifer rushed forward without thinking. He pulled her long blond hair back and knelt beside her. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
Chloe coughed up some more, her body pulling taut like a bowstring. She rested her head against the toilet seat with a weak groan. “God, I hate when that happens. That’s the second time today.”
“Second time?” Lucifer said as he stroked her hair.
He was actually succeeding in ignoring the sour stench coming from the bowl. Normally such a thing would get to him instantly.
Odd.
“Had to pull over on the side of the road after I’d dropped Trix off. Wasn’t pretty.” She lifted her head. “When is the suspect’s brother coming in for the interview?”
“Interview?” Lucifer raised on eyebrow. The tile floor was cold through his trousers. “My darling, you’re as pale as a corpse and shaking like a leaf in the wind. I don’t think there is any blood left in your lips.”
Chloe grabbed for the toilet paper holder but missed twice. Lucifer reached over and tore off a piece.
“Case in point,” he said, handing it to her. “You’re in no shape to be conducting interviews today. I’d doubt they’d appreciate it if you vomited all over the table. Might make them confess, though.”
Chloe glared at him, but it lacked its usual strength. Her eyes were watery from retching. Wiping her mouth, she said,
“What else am I supposed to do? Otherwise I’ll just get hopelessly behind on work, and then I’ll have to spend my evenings trying to catch up. And worst case scenario, our killer walks. I can’t be responsible for that.”
“You wouldn’t be. It’s your bosses’ fault for not hiring enough people to properly divide the workload.”
When Chloe opened her mouth to protest, Lucifer held up his hand.
“Fine, I’ll stop playing your advocate. But trust me when I say that the precinct won’t collapse if you take a couple of days off – for good reason, I might add.”
People often said he could be stubborn as hell, but the Detective could match him perfectly when she wanted to.
And this seemed to be one of those times.
Chloe sighed. She threw the paper in the toilet and leaned her head against the stall. “But then Dan has to cover for me again. He already did that last week so we could have date night. It makes me feel guilty.”
“Guilt books you a one-way trip down under, and I don’t mean Australia. Let it go, my love.”
Lucifer grabbed some more toilet paper. Gently, he wiped away some leftover vomit on her cheek. “I’ll call Maze, get her to help Daniel out. Alright? You know how good she is at interrogating people.”
Chloe’s eyes softened. After a moment, she relented. “Fine. But I’ll have to send Dan some files from my computer before I drive home.”
“Drive?”
“Yeah, I can manage.”
“You are not driving in this state, Detective. What if you have to vomit on the highway and you get in an accident? No,” Lucifer said. “I’ll drive you home, get you settled.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow, then winced. “I thought you were squeamish about sick people and stuff.”
“I am – I mean, I was. I think – bloody hell, this isn’t about me, Detective. I am simply trying to get you home safe. Why won’t you let me?”
Why are you pushing me away?
The sentiment must have been clear on his face, because her features softened as she licked her lips. Her shaking fingers grazed his knee. “I don’t want you to feel obligated just because you’re my boyfriend now. I can manage.”
Linda’s musings over several glasses of wine and a sleeping Charlie floated through his mind.
Chloe’s hyper-independence comes from an immature mother and unstable teenage years after her father died.
If she can’t control her surroundings, she’ll want to isolate herself. Same with her feelings.
Prove it’s better to be alone. Your forced departure strengthened that belief.
You’re more alike than you think.
Just not in the ways you’d expect.
Is that what it was? Was she –
A hacking cough pulled him from his thoughts. Chloe leaned over the toilet seat, but heaved without any result. Her eyes watered from the effort.
She truly looked miserable. Lucifer couldn’t stand it anymore.
“That’s it. I’m taking you home, and that’s the last I want to hear about it.” Lucifer carefully placed his hands beneath her armpits to help her up. She was radiating heat. “Come on, love. Let’s go get your stuff.”
After splashing some water in her face and dabbing her mouth with a paper towel, Chloe leaned against his side as they walked back to the bullpen.
Her protest had died down. She was panting heavily from the short walk to her desk.
“Oh, man.” Dan stood up as they approached. “Chlo, you look like hell. Why didn’t you call me? I could have taken Trix to your mother.”
Chloe waved him off weakly. “It’s fine. Had to drive here anyway.”
Lucifer quickly slid her car keys in his pocket before she could start another argument. “I’m taking her home. You’ll cover the interviews today? I’ll ask Maze to come in.”
It wasn’t a question, but Daniel nodded. He raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah, no problem. Just take care, right? Seems like a nasty bug going around. Hey, if you throw up, does it look like the rest of us humans?”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” Lucifer said with a flat stare. “In fact – Detective, no, I’ll do that.”
The manilla case folder slipped from Chloe’s hands as she swayed. It fell open on the desk. She blinked twice, trying to clear her head through the fever. “I can work from home tonight.”
“Just give it to me, I’ll take care of it.” Lucifer dumped the stack of files unceremoniously in a floral tote bag and hung it over his shoulder. He offered his other arm. “Come on, Morningstar taxi services is waiting for you.”
That earned him a snort. Looping her arm through his, Chloe leaned on him as they started to make their way to the parking garage.
“Good luck!” Daniel called after them. “I know you can do it.”
Lucifer didn’t know if he meant driving home or getting Chloe to let him take care of her.
Maybe it was both.
The drive back was unpleasant – mostly for the Detective.
Even though she’d been sipping the ginger ale he’d gotten her from the vending machine, she had to use her emergency bag twice now when he hadn’t been able to pull over in time.
Dad damn LA morning traffic.
For him the ride had been slow, because this time he had to actually obey speed limits and traffic signs to not increase the vomiting.
By the time they’d gotten back to the apartment, the pale blue morning sky had been swapped for oppressive gray clouds and a mild drizzle.
Chloe was shivering by the time the door closed behind them. Her skin had a grayish hue that worried him.
Why were humans so prone to disease? Did his Father want them to suffer?
“Bucket?” Lucifer hurried to her side. “AC? No AC? Heating? Or perhaps you need some food? You know humans can also get nauseous if they don’t eat, right?”
“Water,” Chloe said, clutching the tied-up garbage bag. Her teeth chattered. “Ibuprofen. And maybe some tea – but not yet.”
Lucifer pried the vomit bag from her fingers without thinking. He chucked it in the kitchen garbage can. Rain pattered on the slanted sky light above the ceiling beams. “Let’s get you to bed, darling.”
Chloe opened her mouth to say I’m fine, but closed it when she saw his determined expression. She nodded.
In one smooth motion, Lucifer tucked his hands beneath her knees and lifted her to his chest.
“I’m sorry. I smell horrible,” Chloe muttered against his suit as they went up the stairs. “Should have eaten a mint.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lucifer said as they rounded the corner on the upstairs landing. “You haven’t smelled the tar pits in Hell. Scorches your nose hairs right off.”
Chloe chuckled weakly. At least she hadn’t lost her sense of humor.
Nudging the door open, Lucifer carried her into the bedroom and gently put her down on the duvet. When she made to take off her shoes, he stopped her.
Kneeling in front of the bed, he said,
“Just let me, alright?” Lucifer gently pushed her hands away. “Allow me, Detective. Please.”
I know how hard it is to be vulnerable.
Chloe said nothing, just leaned back on her arms with a groan.
She watched him roll up her jeans and undo the laces on her black heeled boots, taking one off, then the other. One of her toes poked through a hole in her sock, the red nail polish chipped.
The sight was oddly intimate.
Her blue eyes were tired, but still pensive. Locked on his face while her body remained tense.
“Pants?” Lucifer asked, still kneeling on the hardwood floor. His hand wrapped around her slender ankle.
“Yeah,” she nodded. She fumbled with the button before popping it open, her fingers slipping on the piece of metal. “God, my hands hurt.”
Lucifer helped her drag the jeans over her hips and down her legs. Her skin was feverishly warm beneath his palms as he worked the fabric down her calves and over her feet.
Chloe let out a sigh of relief and kicked the jeans off. “Much better.”
Moving onto the bed, Lucifer sat in front of her. The sheets were cool. Her heavy breaths fanned over his neck and collarbones. “Let me help you with the jumper.”
Somehow the entire scene felt as intimate as their first night together.
Only this time it was Chloe who was surrendering.
“Sweater, fancy British man,” she chided with a tired smile. Nonetheless she lifted her arms above her head.
He moved the striped woolen jumper up her chest and over her head, mindful of the earrings. Blond strands of hair stood on end from the static energy. It was quite adorable.
“Can you get my pajamas from the bathroom?” Chloe leaned backed against the pillows. Her eyelids drooped. “They’re next to the sink.”
“Certainly.” Lucifer patted down her hair before getting up. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Chloe chuckled. “Wasn’t planning to.”
Walking into the adjacent bathroom, he grabbed the oversized Backstreet Boys t-shirt and black leggings. It smelled like her – coffee and coconut and Chanel.
Even in the deepest depths of Hell, he hadn’t forgotten the scent. He couldn’t.
Lucifer paused a second, then also took a hairbrush and hair tie from a toiletry bag.
Back in the bedroom, Chloe had pulled off her blouse and was panting from the effort. She was blinking back sleep with every ounce of her strength, chest heaving underneath the faded sports bra.
“Easy, Detective.” Lucifer rounded the bed and sat down next to her. “Bucket?”
Chloe shook her head. She shivered. “No, I think I’m done.”
“Let me take it off,” he said, placing the supplies next to him. “You’ll be more comfortable without it.”
A faint smile graced her lips, though her chattering teeth slightly ruined the effect. “That’s a lousy way to get me naked, even for you.”
“Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Let’s get this over with. You look like Hell is freezing over.”
Chloe raised her arms once more. Lucifer moved quickly as he pulled the bra over her head, then replaced it with the large t-shirt and helped her put the leggings on.
“If you can sit up one more moment, I can braid your hair.” Lucifer felt his face redden. Was he being ridiculous now? “I mean, if you want me to.”
His offer took her by surprise, but she nodded. “Yeah, best not to get vomit in my hair.”
Lucifer shuffled behind her on the bed, her back to his. He pressed a quick kiss to her shoulder, unable to help himself.
She sighed happily.
He moved the brush through her hair in slow movements, careful not to hurt her. His fingers moved quickly as he wove the strands into a simple plait.
A part of him still couldn’t believe he was here. Still couldn’t believe he got to do this.
Touch her. Hold her. Care for her.
He’d never done this for anyone – never wanted to.
But with Chloe, it felt as natural as breathing. He didn’t even have to think about it.
He just had to allow his feelings, and his actions flowed like water.
“There,” he said, with a kiss to the crown of her head. “Lie down. I’ll tuck you in.”
Chloe turned around. The quiet love and tenderness in her eyes knocked the wind out of him. She was silent for a moment before saying,
“I don’t think anyone’s tucked me in in years.”
The sheer loneliness in the sentence caught him off guard, sending a pang through his heart.
When they’d met, her marriage with Daniel had already died a silent death. And he seriously doubted Cain had been that affectionate.
“Well, not anymore.”
As she lied down with a groan, Lucifer tucked the duvet up to her middle. He fluffed up her pillow, and his fingers found their way to her cheek.
Leaning in, he softly pressed a kiss to her lips.
“You shouldn’t kiss me too much,” Chloe said as he pulled away. A hacking cough racked her frame. “I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
“I can honestly say that’s low on my list of worries – right above guinea pigs eating my socks.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to expect the unexpected.” Lucifer stroked her head, then laced their fingers. “I’m so sorry you were alone, Chloe.”
He would never forget the utter devastation on her face when he'd left her standing on the balcony.
How she'd closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see him leave.
Chloe blinked up at him, eyes darkening with memories. She squeezed his hand. “It was only two months.”
“I’m not just talking about my return to Hell.”
“Oh,” she said softly. She dropped her gaze and rubbed her nose with her free hand. “Well, I made it, didn’t I? We both did. I guess that’s all that matters.”
Lucifer raised her knuckles to his lips. “You shouldn’t have been.”
“Neither should you,” she said softly. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you, Lucifer.”
Her words rang through him like a silver bell, unlocking parts of his heart that had been dormant for eons.
No one but the Doctor had ever said that to him.
At a loss for words, Lucifer simply touched his forehead to hers. Her burning skin brutally reminded him he hadn’t gotten her any meds yet.
“Just promise me one thing,” he said, their noses bumping.
Chloe’s fingertips grazed his chin. “To not throw up on you?”
“If you could avoid that, that would be nice. But no.” Lucifer pulled back a bit so he could properly meet her eye. “Promise me to let me take care of you. I can’t say I always know what to do, but let me try. Please.”
Her rejection this morning had stung, even though he knew why she’d done it. It had been a habit formed through years.
But she wasn’t alone anymore.
Accepting help takes as much strength as giving it, Lucifer. Tearing down walls takes time.
But it’s easier with two pairs of hands instead of one.
“Okay.” Chloe smoothed her hand over his cheek. Her smile sent his stomach spinning. “Okay. I’ll try. As long as you promise to keep talking to me.”
“Deal.”
Whatever she was about to say next was cut off by a series of coughs. She laid down on the pillow with a groan. “Ugh, I think I’m starting to get nauseous again.”
“I’ll get you some water and meds. I’ll be right back.”
Chloe hummed as she closed her eyes.
Rushing down the stairs, Lucifer tore through the kitchen like a whirlwind, picking up items along his way.
Bottle of ibuprofen, glass of water, pack of crackers. Box of tissues and a plastic bowl for vomiting all neatly arranged on a carrying tray.
It felt good, taking care of someone. Especially the person who held his heart.
When he came back upstairs, Chloe was fast asleep.
She lay on her side. Her breathing was deep and even, one of her hands curled around the sleeve of the suit jacket he’d draped over her.
Lucifer smiled softly. He put the tray down quietly, then toed off his shoes and settled down on the bed.
Perhaps Daniel had had a point. He did get antsy when he hadn’t seen his Detective in a while.
But when she was around, everything in his head went quiet. His heart sped up and slowed down at the same time.
Like the world had been tilted on its axis, and her presence put it right again.
“I’ll keep talking to you, Detective.” Lucifer put his head down on the pillow, facing her. “I’ll talk about anything you want – so much you’ll tell me to shut up.”
And there was a lot to talk about.
Things he was proud of, like weaving the stars into constellations or inspiring great artists. But also memories filled with shame and sorrow and rage.
He’d have to dig those up where he’d buried them deep down, their heartbeats underground still haunting him. Memories he hadn’t shared even shared with Linda.
For Chloe, he would.
“I promise,” he continued, adjusting the jacket over shoulder. “I do.”
A sudden tickle in his throat made him hold his breath to avoid coughing. The tickle turned into an ache, and Lucifer sighed.
Looks like he’d caught the bug, too.
Sharing was caring, in Beatrice’s words. And if this came with the Detective’s love, that was a cross Lucifer was more than willing to bear.
Shuffling close to Chloe, Lucifer put an arm around her and sighed,
“At least it’s not guinea pigs.”