The Devil and the Flu

Author: Dino76
Type of work: Fiction
Title: The Devil and the Flu
Fandom: Lucifer
Main Characters: Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker, Dan Espinoza
Summary: Shameless Lucifer fluff. Our favourite devil has an unpleasant encounter with something called "the flu".
Rating: G
Word Count: 8800
Notes & Warnings: fluff
Spoiler up to: Could be placed anywhere actually, but I'd say it is set somewhere in Season 2
Author's Note: My seriously Lucifer-deprived muse needed a little fluff. And this is where we went. Dan and I are still wondering how he got roped into this, but somehow he did. I'd appreciate some feedback to improve my writing. It's unbetaed and written in a foreign language, so I apologize for any typos and mistakes. I hope you like it.

Chapter 1

He felt … weird. As if something was seriously wrong with him. Ever since he got up this morning his body felt as if he'd been run over by a bus during the night. There was a disturbingly burning sensation right behind his eyes that was completely unknown to him and also highly annoying. The glass of scotch he'd downed this morning contributing nothing to improve this matter.

Sudden changes in direction made him dizzy. And just now the short track from his awesome vintage car to the crime scene where Detective Chloe Decker was waiting for him had somehow exhausted him. There was actually a sheen layer of sweat on his forehead. He didn't sweat. And he was breathing heavily. Through his mouth. Because his nose felt awkwardly stuffed. As if someone had blocked it up with cement. All this was unpleasantly alien to him. Up until now he'd never even felt exhausted before. And he would of course never openly admit it, but all in all Lucifer Morningstar – the devil in persona – was not feeling up to his usual devilishly awesome self. And that was definitely reason to worry.

"Detective," he greeted Chloe with a short nod of his head. And damn it, even his voice sounded as if it belonged to someone else. She looked up from the body lying on the sidewalk.

"Oh, hi, Lucifer," she said and then with a slight frown added, "Are you feeling all right?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied clearing his throat subtly. "Beautiful day." He gestured towards the sky. "Why do you ask?" Was his current state so blatantly obvious? Chloe stood up and just shook her head. He interpreted that as a dismissal of her question and went on, "Looks like the poor fellow jumped from the roof."

"Yes, it seems pretty straightforward now that I'm here," she sighed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have called you."

"No need to be," he replied. "It's always a pleasure to help you. Even if I'm just pointing out the obvious." He underlined the last part with a flourish of his hand and a half pirouette. He didn't even know what or how it happened. One moment he was whirling around in a grant gesture of his superior style and extravagance and the next he was stumbling dizzily and desperately searching for something to hold onto to avoid a graceless face-plant next to the dead man. His blurred vision caught on to something and his hand blindly clasped around something strong. Feeling relieved he almost didn't notice a strong hand grabbing his upper arm to steady him.

"Woah, easy there." When his vision had normalized, he turned to his saviour to thank him. Unfortunately it was Detective Douche.

"I ... apologize," he mumbled still blinking rapidly to get his momentum back. The burning behind his eyes had increased with his near fall and why did his throat suddenly feel so scratchy?

"Are you all right?" Detective Douche asked and Lucifer wasn't perfectly sure but there was something like concern on Dan's face. Mortified he noticed that his own hand was still holding onto Dan for support and he quickly pulled it back.

"Of course I am," he said and almost didn't recognize his own voice. It sounded hoarse and strange even to his ears. Everything about him was weird today. "Why do people keep asking me that?" He shrugged off Dan's hand and made a show of straightening his suit jacket.

"You look a bit pale," Detective Decker added. "Are you sure, you're okay?"

"I am!" he said vehemently. "Now could we please give our undivided attention to this poor sod who obviously thought he had so little to live for that jumping into a painful death seemed like the only reasonable solution?" The Detectives exchanged one last look that he couldn't read but then they focused again on James Mason, their suicide victim.

Lucifer on the other hand was quite content that the Detectives' scrutinizing eyes were firmly locked on the victim. He sensed that they somehow knew more about his current situation than he himself did. Maybe it was one of those human things that he hadn't yet encountered. But this strange feeling was oddly disturbing. Every move hurt. He squinted and wished he had taken his sunglasses with him. What was wrong with his eyes? Why was he blinded by the sun? The sun had never bothered him before. And what was wrong with his head? He'd never experienced a headache before, but this felt like one. The sun hurt his eyes and the pain in his eyes accelerated his growing headache. If he could just close them, everything would be better he assumed. His throat hurt as well. Every time he swallowed there was a prickling burn right at the back of his mouth. What was wrong with him?

He knelt down next to the detectives to appear normal. They were still talking about their victim but he somehow couldn't follow their dialogue, their voices seemed far away, so he concentrated on breathing subtly through his mouth. Which was an almost impossible task. Even to his ears his breathing sounded awfully loud. And then they stood up again rather abruptly. And he felt dizzy. Again. And for a second time today and what he hoped to be the last, Detective Douche grabbed his upper arm and steadied him with surprising ease.

For a short moment everything went black and he pressed his fingers to his eyes until it had passed. This was embarrassing. Strong hands led him a few steps to a nearby bench and he was pushed down.

"Lucifer, you're sick," Chloe announced. "Go sit in my car. I'll drive you home in a few minutes." He scoffed at that. It was highly unlikely – no, impossible – that his current state was somehow connected to a disease.

"What? I am not sick. The Lord of Hell is not affected by your petty human diseases," he replied snorting. The devil? Sick? He could only laugh at that thought. Unfortunately his snort turned into a hacking cough and he quickly covered his mouth with the crease of his elbow. He'd seen humans do that when they coughed. When his lungs had finally calmed down again, he looked up at two identical smirks on the Detectives' faces. He fought to keep the blush at bay. Apparently Detective Decker was right and there was something wrong with him. Maybe he had fallen ill? Could his missing invincibility in the proximity of the Detective also cause him to fall victim to human diseases? He was still pondering this possibility when she put the back of her hand on his forehead. He recoiled slightly and tried standing up again. He felt silly sitting while they stood before him. His attempt was immediately quelled by a strong hand on his shoulder that kept him right where he was. Annoyed he looked up at Detective Douche.

"You're burning up!" Chloe exclaimed. "Why didn't you stay in bed? You should have called in sick!" He was aware that he was staring at her, most likely looking like an imbecile, trying to understand what she'd just said, when another hand touched his forehead. This time it was Dan's. And this time he recoiled – a lot. And blushed. He may be getting along better with the Detective's annoying ex-husband but that didn't mean that they were on touching terms.

"You're right, Chloe," Dan said looking serious. "He's running a fever. He shouldn't be here."

"All right!" Lucifer exclaimed and had another futile attempt at standing up – this was getting ridiculous. "Would you please stop talking about me as if I wasn't right here! – And stop touching me!" He noted with pleasure that Detective Douche did look a bit embarrassed and withdrew his hand from Lucifer's shoulder. Detective Decker on the other hand looked ... concerned ... and determined and not at all affected by his exclamation.

"Come on, now," she said. "Sit down in my car. I'll finish up and then I'll take you home. You need rest."

Lucifer just looked at her bewildered. When did he go from self-reliant Devil to sick human that needed to be taken home?

"I'm fine. I am perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you very much." Chloe didn't look convinced.

"He really shouldn't be driving with a fever," Dan interrupted. And Lucifer threw him a dirty look. Of course Detective Douche would take her side in the matter. "I can finish up here, Chloe. Take him home. – And I can pick up Trixie from school."

"Excuse me?! I am still sitting right here! In case you hadn't noticed," Lucifer said loudly even waving his arm in front of their faces. He only got a sharply slapped wrist for his trouble.

"You're right," Chloe said without further acknowledging him other than batting his hand away. "Call me if you need help." And then she grabbed his arm and with Dan's help (of course Dan would be helping) pulled him up. This manhandling was grating on his nerves. It was not the fun kind he usually enjoyed participating in. Without further ado the Detective started dragging him off presumably in the direction of her car.

"Detective, what are you doing?" he asked when he found his voice again.

"I told you, I'm taking you home," she replied throwing him a concerned look.

"First of all, you didn't tell me anything. – You told Detective Douche. Nobody asked for my opinion on this matter."

"Lucifer," she said exasperated. "You are sick. You have a fever. You should be at home resting."

Further discussion seemed pointless at this moment so he just went along. He'd never admit it, but he was actually feeling too weak to protest and that a few hours of sleep sounded like a good prospect.