It had been a long day, in every sense of the word. And not just for humans, either. Lucifer Morningstar laid stoically in his bed, ignoring the silkiness of his expensive satin sheets for the feel of blossoming bruises across his flesh and the warmth of the mortal body at rest beside him. An exaggerated breath escaped him and he gingerly massaged at his temples. This "mortality thing" he had found so thrilling was beginning to wear his patience thin. It was all well and good until he truly needed his immortality - to save the detective. Why he sought to save her, he hadn't quite grasped yet. It was a mystery even to himself. But, she had needed him, though. So desperately. And indeed, he had been there to rescue his mortal damsel in distress. He recalled the ever-widening of her pale eyes and the moment realization struck her as his anger boiled over. As his persona changed from slick and handsome to murderous...monstrous. The man that invoked such anger and desperation was nothing more than a dim-witted criminal, thinking the death of a cop would get him a little "street cred". The fool.

He could still smell the lingering fragrance of gunpowder and blood in his own hair and the rumpled clothes he'd fallen asleep in. On her. Chloe's expression had haunted him for the remainder of the night. For just a moment, as she thought there was to be no savior for her (he was a savior of sorts, he supposed, as he did ensure her survival) the light of hope left her. Lucifer detested it, the Devil himself had found his blood boiling just beneath the surface before he had even realized, and he had snuffed out the glow of many souls over billions of years. But Chloe, she was special some how. Probably because he was unable to have her - because she could not be swayed by his prowess, he told himself. Such a prize would not easily slip from his grasp or be sullied by another less worthy creature. And he had put out the flame of a soul that night. For her, but had taken a small amount of damage in the process. Not knowing his limits and permitting wild swings and bullets to fly his way as he ripped the offending criminal to almost literal shreds. The police would find a mentally broken (quite physically damaged as well) man rocking in the streets of L.A. screaming about Satan himself.

Still, he wished he had done more. Destroyed him mind, body, and soul. The Devil had refrained, anger replaced with the odd feeling of...pity? Regret? No, he did not feel regret, not as he turned to see the brunette woman slid down onto the dirty warehouse floor, shaking and gaping in horror and pain at the ceeature of darkness before her. Of the man too that had nearly ended her life. But there had surely been something there as he gathered her up, her silence painfully deafening.

Somehow, they had stumbled here to Lux, after various shots were fired at the devilishly handsome man (and he was quite pleasing to the eye even bloodied up if he did say so himself), and demonic carnage ensued. It probably would have terrified the poor girl if she had the capacity at that moment to fully comprehend that she wasn't dead herself. Ah, dramatic last minute entries and saving damsels, the shock of it all to her mortal mind. It sounded to the fallen angel much like the human comic books he had seen once a couple years back.

When all was said and done, Chloe had, despite her strong will, sobbed wholeheartedly into him upon being moved from her perch on the dusty floor before falling asleep in his arms. Lucifer remembered blood smeared across her cheek and an abrasion at her temple where the criminal had struck her with his handgun, her breathy hiccups finally having slowed to gentle, restful quiet. Lucifer made for her to stay with him, allowing himself to seek comfort in her presence after she had been so shaken up. Carrying her up the stairs to his bed, he found himself unable to part, her slender fingers wrapped much too tightly in his shirt after the night's horror to be removed without waking. So he had just...rolled with it, cradling her too his chest almost awkwardly, closing his eyes too for what he had assumed would be just a moment as he healed up. After all, the child spawn (Trixie) was with her father, and eventually, even a human as strong as Detective Decker found themselves breaking under the pressure of their life's stress and near death experiences. Deep down, a part of him had longed for this sort of...companionship.

Not that he openly acknowledged it. Not that he believed something such as that. Not that he needed any solace in the night. The Devil needed no one.

His eyes roamed over the planes of Chloe's sleeping face. Her dark lashes fluttered in response to her dreams, expressionless, and puffs of breath tumbled from her slightly parted, petal pink lips. His fingertips hovered just centimeters from the soft flesh of her cheek, and he shook. Lucifer drew back his hand painfully slow, grimacing as if he had been burned. Slowly, he separated himself from her and stood with his back turned to the bed. Chloe was but a simple mortal and an innocent, not a plaything. Things were...different with her, he told himself, though he knew not why. Any other soul he would have gladly jumped bones with, but her? This mortal woman struck at a part of this fallen angel that even the Devil himself didn't know nor quite understand. Perhaps, it didn't matter how many times he offered or joked with her about having sex with him. When it came down to it, The Devil himself, was having a spot of trouble. But he had just firmly stated to himself - he wanted for nothing, needed no person angelic, demonic, or otherwise. But it felt so good to hold her, didn't it? For the Devil to be wanted?

He flinched and then mentally scolded himself for his foolishness as Chloe shifted, stretching in her sleep before nestling more firmly in his pillows. It was almost as if she subconsciously knew that he was no longer there beside her. He turned his gaze in favor of the view of his apartment window above Lux. People were ignorantly milling in the streets, wasting their simple lives away rushing to and fro. The events of Lucifer's night beyond their realm of knowledge and beliefs. What would it be like to live among them, honestly oblivious to the immortal realm? A sigh escaped him before he could stop himself. Lucifer shook his head stubbornly and turned on heel. Hell with it all. He needed a shower. He had had enough sentimental nonsense for one morning.

Chloe woke to the persistent vibration of her cellphone from somewhere around her head. Which hurt fairly badly. She groaned and scrunched up her face as she tried to open her eyes. Sunlight poured in as she turned over on satin sheets. "Ouch," she grumbled, reaching for the ringing cellphone before taking pause. There was a faint smell of soap and the sound of running water close by, which struck her as strange. Satin sheets? Her eyes shot open and she bolted upright, hair falling haphazardly in her line of vision as she began to panic. Where was she? What was she doing here?

Chloe made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, the sound of water in the background dissipating. Lucifer. She had come here with him, maybe. She remembered holding on so tight, using him as her anchor. The thought left her feeling embarrassed, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. She wasn't the type to just throw herself at men for any reason, but...when he had come to her - when she had thought her life was over...she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. And those eyes. He was...like a monster...I've never seen someone so...angry. So...otherworldly.

She stood. Chloe had witnessed something horrific, but it was as if her mind wanted to block it out. It couldn't be true. Lucifer had changed and fire reflected in his gaze as he confronted her attacker. His form had emanated malicious intent; it dripped from him like a tangible thing. But she had felt such great relief. There wasn't a bullet lodged in her brain. He had saved her life. Another shiver ran down her spine and she took in a big gulp of cool air. The soapy fragrance reminded her of him. She should have known right away by the ornately decorated room that this couldn't belong to anybody but him. But...what had he done to that man? He was so, so angry. It had terrified her. But she was exhausted even still. It almost...wasn't human.

"Well, I see you're awake. Feelin' any better, love?" That smooth voice nearly had her jumping a foot in the air. It shook the thoughts from her. Chloe turned wildly, and then immediately hid behind her hands. He was completely naked.

"O-oh! Oh! You're -!" She hastily turned back around. Chloe could feel her face growing warm, her heart skipping a beat as she peeked through her fingers and over her shoulder for the smallest of seconds. Oh God, he looked delicious. But no, that was so wrong. All of this was so messed up on way more levels than she could say.

"Naked?" He offered her with a little chuckle, causing her to feverishly nod her head and attempt to keep her eyes from wandering back to his lithe form. His body was exquisite - like a foreign underwear model's.

"Yes! Oh my God, put some clothes on!"

Lucifer winked at her turned back, but wrinkled his nose at his father's name. "He has nothing to do with it. But, if you insist."

"I do," she groaned, fairly mortified. What was more embarrassing: finding that she wanted to look again and see if that bod was real or the fact that her belly was doing little somersaults in a rush of unwanted excitement at the sight of him?

"What am I doing here?" She asked after a few tentative seconds, unsure if it was what she really wanted to ask first.

"There, you can turn around now," he told her, having wrapped a towel firmly around his waist, much to his chagrin. As she turned, he offered her a crooked little smile. "Are you sure you don't want to have sex?"

The heat in the police officer's face shot up ten degrees. She fumbled for words and settled on glaring at him instead. He shrugged his shoulders, the insufferable man, as if to simply say "your loss" and turned his own back to her. Chloe's eyes widened in surprise.

"I opted to bring you here as to not bring panic to your home or the police -"

"Those scars!" She had effectively cut him off, and the distance between them. They were huge, marred spots of flesh on his otherwise perfect physique. Chloe gravitated toward them, unable to stop herself. She reached out, a fingertip grazing over the raised skin. She wanted to trace them. A pang of pity hit her and sadness she couldn't quite register fell over her, lips pursed now instead of locked in a 'o' shape.

Lucifer's muscles rippled under the human woman's touch before tensing. He struck faster than a viper, fingers wrapping in an iron clad grip around her wrist as he simultaneously pulled her forward. They stared at one another, the air growing thick with his tension.

"Don't," Lucifer breathed softly, "Please."

He was leaned in close, and Chloe noted just how close. The desperation in his eyes, so unlike the fireceness she had seen just that very night. Her heart skipped, causing her to lose her breath. He had at least that effect on her, but she would never allow him to realize. He could steal her breath away with his unpredictability...and this closeness.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "But...what...what are those? What happened to you?"