Devil's Food
A/N: Little sweetly/salty one-shot of Trix adjusting to some of the finale events.
[ - ]
"Could you come over later?"
"Why Detective! I certainly can, and you what's more, you shall as well. More than a few times most likely. Thought you'd never ask…finally come to your senses have you? I have heard personal crises can bring new clarity to one's outlook. Well overdue, I'd say…"
Chloe sighed, listening to the ridiculously cheerful smirky noise on the other end of the phone. The last few days after Malcolm's assualt had brought home her job in a whole new way – personally to her daughter. Who had never asked for any of it. Her dad absent in bureaucratic limbo, her mother even more protective and her fascinating friend apparently back from the dead after being covered with blood on the cold ground of an airplane hangar. Trixie was a bright, resilient little girl…but she was still just a little girl. A lot had changed in her world, and most of it wasn't for the better.
But despite herself, she smiled wryly as she shook her head at the disembodied voice still chirping away. This…this hadn't changed. And after the other night, she was quite happy about that. And needed her daughter to be happier as well.
"Lucifer. Focus. I need you to see Trix. She's…"
"Hmph. Well. I'd rather hoped it was her mother needed seeing. More of me that is. As in literally. Not as if you haven't been lucky already but perhaps a refresher needed? Bit of a palate cleanser to remove that foul taste of angst? I am delicious, after all. A little unbunching of knickers in good order, you think Detective? Of course if you were a commando sort of girl that would n'er be a problem…"
Oh yeah right…the 'not changing' aspect meant still dealing with constant innuendo. Which was a word she would NOT say out loud as sheer phonetics would likely lead to just more of it.
"Lucifer."
Heavy put-upon sigh from the other end of the phone. "Fine. When is the spawn home from school?"
"She's home now. Hasn't been, since….well, you know." He did. He most certainly did indeed know. "She doesn't want to go anywhere or do anything. Which is so not like her." It wasn't. Her cheerful little daughter wanted only to stay home with Chloe and her grandmother, dully content to have those she loved nearby.
Despite his vocal bravado covering his own concerns over recent events and his general distrust of all things small, unpredictably sticky and juvenile, Lucifer too was troubled to hear this. Children were generally detestable creatures, but this one…this one was…a person to him. With quite a little personality.
"Well. Can I bring anything? Edible undies perhaps an option should you change your mind and become peckish?" Evil giggle here. "Does the imp nap? She should – I hear good sleep is quite restorative."
"LUCIFER."
"WHAT? Just thinking of your well-being here, darling. Tension-filled women make for poor parental figures and you're apparently pulling double-duty for a bit so win-win, I'd say."
Chloe put the heel of her hand to her eye and tried very hard not to press it straight through her skull. And sighed. She sighed a lot with him; probably had the best-exercised lungs in LA. Perhaps not a great idea considering the smog factor. "Chocolate cake, maybe. She hasn't really been eating either and at this point I'm willing to slide on the whole well-balanced diet thing."
"Fine fine, right. I'll pop over in a bit with some flavored sugar. Honestly I do believe it would take a total cataclysm to get you to loosen up." And that actually might be coming. Lucifer gave a heavy sigh of his own after disconnecting. Right. Well. Sooner started sooner done. Bellowing down the basement steps: "MAZE! Where's that blasted bakery Brittany Number Two is always on about?!"
Chloe put her phone down on the charger base and went to find (what was left) of her family. With Dan being held and their daughter precarious, her mother staying with them (which Chloe was glad of, on paper at least, but Penelope was quite a bit to handle even without axis-tilting events). Truthfully, she could use a little lightening up herself. And who better to do that than her inexplicably resurrected partner? She chuckled a little…conundrum or not, Lucifer would just likely remind her she had the wrong deity in mind if she said THAT to him.
But still…
Not wanting to dwell for the moment, Chloe opened the door to the back porch. Trixie was coloring as Penny was reading to her, but both looked as if their hearts weren't in their activities.
"Hey monkey, feel up for some company later?"
"Not really Mommy. I just want to be with you and Gramma." Chloe's heart tugged at the lack of sparkle in her little girl's eye.
"I don't want to see my friends. Not yet." Her daddy wasn't here, her mommy was more worried than usual and her own mind was very mixed-up. She'd seen some scary things her friends had no idea of. It was too much to think of trying to explain when even she didn't know what to think or feel.
"Oh, I think you'll like this visitor…"
"Daddy?" She brightened a little. This would be a good surprise – everyone together! Then maybe her mom would stop looking at her like she never wanted to let her out of sight again. Trixie tried not to think she maybe didn't want that, either. All her dreams lately were filled of mean men, the weird sound of her mother's voice frightened and her friend hurt. So bad…even afterwards when he was talking all she could look at was the blood on his shirt. Right at her eye level and way worse than the TV shows her parents wouldn't let her watch. But of course, Internet.
Chloe cringed a little as she and Penny shared a sorry glance. "No, baby. Not Daddy, I'm sorry. We'll see him soon, though."
"Promise?"
"Promise." Hell or high water her daughter would get to see Dan. Even if she had to drag Lucifer downtown by his lapels to hocus-pocus the holding officers. Of course he'd probably enjoy her manhandling him and the running commentary would be awful. But she was willing to endure almost anything to see some light shine in that little face. It was a testament to Trixie's changed affect that she didn't even ask any more questions. Just let her crestfallen eyes go back to the picture under her hands.
"Whatcha working on, honey?" Even bubbly Penny was out-of-her league here. Her laced-up daughter was one thing; she'd always handled herself with a degree of aloofness and was doing it now. But her granddaughter…the little firecracker was damp and fizzled out. Chloe had broached the subject of her seeing a child psychologist and while the idea of kids and shrinks was generally too LA cliché even for Penny, in this case it might not be a bad idea. Something had to give.
"Nothing really, Gramma. Just playing." Trixie let the paper she was working on fall next to the others where she was kneeling with her crayons. Penny and Chloe both saw the dark hangar and a man with a scary face. A scary face with blank blue eyes and a mustache. She started on another sheet, black and gray shades in hand again. As the two women exchanged another worried look, Penny mouthed "who's coming over?" and raised her eyebrows at her daughter's silent reply. Well, it couldn't hurt to try anything she supposed. She had her own suspicions that Chloe might need to see him more than she was letting on. That 'handsome devil' had had quite an effect upon the whole family. The three women spent the next half hour trying to enjoy each other and the freshening sea breeze without feeling like it was all a bit false effort.
A knock on the front door surprised Chloe, mostly because he'd actually knocked instead of barging in like he usually did. It was only the night of that strangely awkward 'vulnerability' discussion that he'd asked her permission…and she felt as strange and awkward and yes, vulnerable now looking at him standing on her skewed doormat with a beribboned white box and few obnoxiously happy Gerber daisies in hand.
Although they'd spoken and texted quite often in the last few days, after the horrific events of that night, the snarl of logistics following, Dan's absence and Lucifer's preoccupation with…SOMETHING he wasn't yet telling her…they had not seen each other. And was he a sight for sore eyes: perfectly healthy (inexplicably but appreciated), perfectly groomed and pressed as always and even though the sparkle was a little muted it still twinkled in his eyes. Chloe had no idea it had only resurfaced when she'd opened the door.
"Haven't changed your mind about a little afternoon delight before Children's Hour now have you Detective?" The familiar smile and suggestive eyebrows made her laugh and groan simultaneously.
"Honestly. Does nothing ever make an impact on you for long?"
Thinking that there was quite likely to be quite a heavy impact made sooner rather than later Lucifer simply breezed by her saying, "Now where would be the fun in that?" He sighed expectantly. "Well? Where's the patient?"
"Out back with Mom. And Lucifer…" she was unsure of what to say; how to voice her concerns.
"Don't worry, Detective. I can handle myself around all sorts of women…with brilliant results, usually." He winked at her as he waltzed through her house, petals and ribbons fluttering.
Following behind him as quickly as she could considering how hard her eyes were rolling Chloe heard, "Lucifer! What a pleasure!" as her mother rose off the couch to greet him. Enjoying this tall, dark, debonair bit of yumminess which was looking at her with total fawning appreciation as he murmured, "All mine, I assure you Penelope. Lovely to see you again."
Yes. That sealed it. Her daughter was the smartest idiot she knew. "Trixie! Look who's here!"
"Hi Lucifer." The little girl spoke shyly, not running to tackle him as she usually did. Her gaze flickered over his chest and stomach, then went back down to her coloring projects. Rather morbid palette, he thought. Lucifer eyed her, taking in Chloe's concerns.
"Well then. I've brought you a treat - me of course - and some flowers and cake, too. Are you going to invite me to have a seat or just let me stand here towering over you like an Armani'd giraffe?"
Uncharacteristically, Trixie was quiet even with the zoo reference and Penny covered for her by gushing, "How lovely! Let me get some water… and forks."
A small voice. "Thanks, Lucifer, but I'm not hungry."
"Nonsense. I have it on very good authority that this is all a woman could ask for to survive any ordeal." It certainly seemed to work for B#2: he'd never seen her take in anything other than alcohol, various recreational chemicals and baked goods from this shop and SHE certainly seemed no worse for wear. "Devil's food is exquisite, child, just as the one it's named after".
"Maybe later. You can sit if you want though." She waved her hand vaguely at the two chairs next to the table, not meeting his eye. Lucifer turned to look at Chloe over Penny's shoulder as the older woman returned with flatware and a small vase. Their eyes met: her light ones giving him a 'see why I'm worried?' look and his dark ones responding with 'I'll have it well in hand but oh how you'll owe me.' He settled on the ground catty-corner to where the little girl kneeled at the end of the table, poking his long legs out the other side. Fussing slightly, he leaned back on the chair, moving the forks closer to her. "Are you certain you want to wait?"
"Yes. Not now, thanks." Another quick flicker of a look before her eyes fastened to the table again. She moved slightly away from him and he was surprised to find it stung a little. Trixie had always been brashly enthusiastic in her affections and while he certainly didn't understand it, nor had even offered encouragement he had become resigned. Yes, quite a change indeed. His eyes narrowed briefly. He was, just for a moment, bitter he wasn't overseeing Malcom's punishment personally. This light was not his to rob.
"Rich, decadent - yours for the taking…and yet you defer. I feel as if I'm talking to your mother."
Quizzical looks from child and furious ones from Chloe spangled him as she brought out two sweating glasses of iced tea. She set the one down in front of him with some extra emphasis before she turned on her heel.
"Got anything else for…oh fine, I suppose not." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The Decker women were lucky they were beautiful as this all seemed quite a bit of work. Taking in the pictures littering the floor and the one under construction Lucifer asked what she was doing.
"Nothing. Nothing really, I guess…just…" Her eyebrows furrowed.
"If you would?" Lucifer extended his palm, anticipating her refusal. However with a deep sigh she did hand it over. Pinching with both thumbs and forefingers and extending his long arms over the table Lucifer critiqued her work. Horrible really. The child had a modicum of artistic talent at best, but he was still fairly certain of what he was looking at. Still, he wanted to be accurate and he'd learned from Linda Martin that sometimes asking the obvious garnered interesting results.
"What is it? Come come, now, 'fess up. Your mother's the detective not I."
"It's what I saw when I was hiding."
"Indeed."
The picture was mostly dark, Chloe's car in the foreground, her mother not pictured, a mustached man with a gun walking away from another man on the ground. This man was on his back and the only color in the picture other than the walking man's blue eyes was the dark red stain underneath the one down. It was a chilling thing for an eight-year old to create. It was a chilling thing to see, as he'd not considered it from her perspective. He'd been so relieved and yes, perplexed as well…then apprehensive about the denouement of that evening he'd not fully considered all ramifications for all parties.
"Is that supposed to be me? Poor showing. You know I'm not fat. And my legs are longer." He wiggled his feet from the other side of the table and was pleased to hear a little giggle from the wannabe artist. "And clearly, I'm better, as I said. One would think you'd have something more chipper in mind for your little scrawls."
"You died. Mommy said. And you agreed."
Well this was dark. Probably not the sort of conversation Chloe had intended when she'd asked him here. But, some things rightly needed sorting apparently, comfortable or not.
"Well I'm not now, so perhaps lighten up a bit, yeah?"
"You were shot."
Fine. Clearly working in a rut here.
"I was."
"Mommy's daddy; my Grandy got shot, too. I never got to meet him. He never 'got better'. Why did you?" Slight stricken look here. "I mean, I'm so glad you are better really, I just…I don't understand."
He was nothing if not truthful. "Me either, exactly. But I'm pleased about it."
"Me, too. So is Mommy. She was sad and scared." Trixie's voice fell into a conspiratorial stage whisper that could be heard in Manhattan. "I heard her crying after she thought I went to sleep that night."
Well, wasn't that interesting? Putting that plume in his mental hat to stroke later he looked closer at Trixie.
She was wringing her small hands, watching her fingers tangle and untangle. Likely similar to how her thoughts were behaving.
"But just because you're okay now doesn't mean you will be next time. Or Mommy. She was shot, too. And my Daddy…although I don't guess he'll get shot in jail, right? He's safe there, right?"
He opened his mouth to speak, not quite sure exactly what he was going to say. Like his own brother, Daniel Espinoza had turned into a bit of an enigma. But Trixie was still talking….
"And it was my fault. My fault you got hurt. It would have been my fault if Mommy got hurt, too." Her eyes were lowered and hands quiet now.
"What rubbish are you prattling on about? How could that possibly be your doing?"
"That man took me, and you and Mommy came to help."
"Well, of course. What did you expect?"
She looked up at him, brown eyes tear-burnished and in way deeper than she could build a ladder to extricate herself with her eight-year-old vocabulary or current coping skills. Once again, he revisited the thought of ensuring Malcolm's punishment personally.
"Beatrice, there are many inexplicable things in this world – many things you won't understand. And not just because you're a child." Indeed many, and many NOT of this world as well. But those were stones needing turning another time. "Nothing's guaranteed, darling. Some people, some things just….are not right. Not yet. And just because you don't know why doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy what's good when it's offered. Especially when it's offered. Bit of a waste otherwise, don't you think?" He poked the white box a little closer to her. The little girl smiled through the tears standing glossed in her eyes.
"I guess."
"You guess. How trite." He snorted. Then rebuked himself: he wasn't the sort that snorted. Terrible what depths these Deckers were driving him to. Any road, instant gratification was a concept he had great experience with. "Well, I know. And I'm far older than you and know much more. Now what do you think of that?"
"Okay." She took a deep shaky breath.
"Now, pull yourself together. It's unsettling to see you act so unnaturally pensive." To her look of confusion, "'Brooding'. Honestly, have your mother buy you a thesaurus. State of education in schools today is abysmal. While you might not be the brightest I've met you're no dolt and can go far with a little better effort."
She laughed. Actually laughed out loud and the simple sound warmed a part of his heart he wasn't aware of having. "You're funny."
"Well, you're repeating yourself. I've heard that before from you. Long memory I've got, miss." He unstrung the ribbons and opened the box to reveal a truly outstanding piece of chocolate layer cake. He hadn't really a sweet tooth himself, but could appreciate the artistry.
"Lucifer?"
"Now what?"
"Can I hug you?"
Oh no. He should have surmised this unpleasant conclusion to his good deeds. Steeling himself, he asked, "What, you assail me on sight for months on end and now you're asking permission? Quite backwards, you are."
"Yes, but…" slight wariness here, a more mature expression which likely was now part of her repertoire after the whole ordeal. He was quick to try to brush it off her face.
"Yes, but what…? What now?"
"Well, you were shot…and after Mommy was, she hurt for awhile after…"
This ebullient little human was afraid of hurting him as she resurfaced. It was laughable.
"We're made of different stuff, your mother and I."
"So it's okay?"
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "If you must, I suppose."
A nanosecond later he had a lapful of clinging child. Small arms laced around his neck and he felt the gentle hitch of her breathing she was trying to hide against his chest. Soft clothes, softer hair. Sweetness personified making a mockery of the sweet waiting in the paper box. Momentarily at a loss, he let his arms hover over her shoulders before curling them around her little body. Trixie cuddled to him tighter. This felt, and he could feel it to his divine marrow…simple. Pure. Comforting. Alien.
And not completely objectionable, despite his best efforts to think otherwise.
After a few minutes he asked her gruffly, "Done yet?"
He felt her giggle into his collarbone and blast him if it didn't make him smile. This would NOT do: it would only encourage the little imp for future shenanigans.
"Gerroff me, there's some dessert needing attention. Focus on that, yeah?"
More giggles. "You're still funny."
"You're still repeating. It's becoming a concern. And hand over one of those forks." He could at least try again to enjoy something new; discovery had brought loads of fun in the past after all.
From where she'd been listening adjacent to the door with her back to the wall in the living room, Chloe looked up at the ceiling and tried to keep her own eyes from overflowing at Trixie's laughter. 'Taking good things when offered', huh? Food for thought. Devil's food, as he'd said. Penny, looking at her own daughter was not as successful, but then again, had no vehemence against such expression. The two women smiled at one another and clasped hands before Chloe's face lapsed back into its usual consternation at hearing Lucifer's bright ideas.
"Teach your mother that little trick next, won't you?"
"Okay!"