"Really, Detective, I don't see why this is necessary." Lucifer's voice, coming from his bedroom, held a note of aggrieved petulance.
Chloe didn't bother to hide her smile, as he couldn't see her from her spot on the couch. "It's what they'll all be wearing, Lucifer. You'll blend in."
"Surely not everyone." He stuck his head and top half into the room, and Chloe quickly rearranged her features to bland pleasantry. "I mean, they can't possibly all be doing it."
"Not everyone, no," Chloe agreed, "but all the people we need to talk to. If you don't wear it, it'll be too obvious."
Lucifer sighed and ducked back into his room." I don't see why Daniel couldn't do it."
"Dan can't manage a consistent accent," Chloe replied, getting to her feet and moving to the entrance to the balcony, marveling yet again over the view. "Besides, he has Trixie this weekend."
"But it isn't even the right accent," Lucifer protested. "It's nowhere near the same place."
"None of them have ever been outside the US, Lucifer," Chloe explained, as patiently as she could. "Anything authentic will fool them. But, look, if it's really bothering you that much, I can find someone else."
Lucifer sighed. "No, no. I'll do it." He paused, then continued, his leer evident in his voice. "Actually Detective, I've never worn one of these things before. I could use a helping hand to put it on."
"Yeah, no," Chloe replied, with a laugh. "I think you can manage. If you're doing this, though, you have to get a move on. The event is going to start soon."
A few minutes later, he emerged. "Well, what do you think?"
What did she think? Walking heroin, that's what she thought, though she hastily dismissed that notion. He stood before her, the black Argyll jacked somehow perfectly tailored to him and setting off his coloring nicely, offsetting the crisp white dress shirt and dark tie.
But the kilt. Oh, the kilt. She didn't know what family the fabric - dark gray shot with red - signified, and assumed that nobody else at the event would, either. There were some men born to wear kilts, and Lucifer Morningstar was surely one of them. She'd known that he would pull it off - he could pull anything off, after all - but she'd never guessed how well.
"Detective," Lucifer prompted, at her continued silence.
"You look great, and you know it," she replied tersely. "Come on, let's get going."
Lucifer grinned at the praise, then amiably fell into step beside her. "I always was a leg man," he mused, "but I never thought of it quite this way. I think I like it, though. There's a certain freedom to it. Airflow, you know?"
Chloe let him natter on, pushing the button for the elevator.
"Don't you want to know what I'm wearing under the kilt?" Lucifer asked suddenly, a glint in his eyes.
"Pretty sure I already do," Chloe quipped. "Come on, focus. Work now, fun later."
Lucifer sighed melodramatically as the elevator doors opened. "Promises, promises."
Author's note: I heard that Tom Ellis was participating in a kilt walk, and this was the result.