A/N: Set after episode 2x14
Lucifer is not my property ... I'm only borrowing the characters.
Please read and enjoy. I'd love to know what your favorite parts are.
Chapter One
Three weeks had passed since Lucifer's marriage went kaput and even though we were working together again as partners, things were still tense at times between us. The day he informed me of the annulment and started to explain further I interrupted him and told him in no uncertain terms that I did not want to hear it. He respected my words and the subject was avoided from then on. The problem was, I could avoid it in conversation but I could not avoid it in my head. I think that's why when I got his text today, I responded in the affirmative rather than blowing him off, like I had done a few times already.
I parked my car in what had become my normal spot in Lux's lot and sat for a moment to gather myself before getting out. The text I received earlier from Lucifer was simple, it asked me to meet him in the penthouse when I was done with the paperwork on our latest case and he reminded me he knew Sir Douche had the offspring for the night so I couldn't use that as an excuse.
On the elevator ride to his apartment I took a moment to undo my ponytail and shake my hair around, all the while rolling my eyes at myself for primping. I did a final fluff as the doors dinged open.
I stepped out and upon not seeing Lucifer right away a trace of panic welled up inside me as I flashed back to the night I found out he'd left. I blinked the memory of the lifeless room with its covered furniture and piano out of my mind and calmed myself with the reassurance that the penthouse looked like it always had before. Before. The word carried so much weight and I was tired of hauling it around. I wanted the before and the now to merge together without the stop-gap of a quickie marriage and a two week Vegas jaunt ruining the middle. But as the song says, you can't always get what you want. What was done was done.
"Detective," the familiar, British voice called, "I'm on the balcony. Make yourself a drink and come out, it's a lovely night."
I sighed and made my way over to the bar where a bottle of wine was sitting out beside a large wine goblet. I almost grabbed for it, then changed my mind and leaned over to snatch a smaller container from behind the bar and an open bottle of bourbon. I sloshed two healthy fingers into my glass tumbler and headed out through the balcony doors into the L.A. evening where the warmth of the day had cooled to a pleasant temperature.
Lucifer was seated so he could look out into the blanket of night that hung high above the L.A. skyline. There was another lounge chair adjacent to him with a small table between where he could rest his drink and cigarette case. I had to cross in front of him to get to the opposite chair and I snuck a glimpse at him as I went by. He still wore the clothes he had on earlier except at present his waistcoat was unbuttoned, along with half of his shirt. The expensive material was untucked and a little rumpled looking, which contrasted with the elegant way he had rolled his cuffs to just under his elbows, exposing his tanned forearms to the flickering of the fire pit. His fashionable stubble had grown out over the course of the day, making it look thicker and less raspy to the touch. Bare feet capped off his casual ensemble.
A breeze blew across the deck, ruffling the curls his dark hair turned into near day's end. The leaves of the plants that lived on the balcony also swayed, like they were dancing to a song nature was singing them.
I made myself comfortable on the chair and took a sip of my drink. Lucifer's eyes followed my movement. "Oh, going for the hard stuff, I see," he said as he nodded in appreciation at my tumbler. I waited for the lewd joke to follow, being surprised when there was none. Before (there was that word again) he wouldn't have missed an opportunity like that.
I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he went back to staring skyward. Part of me wanted to talk to him about everything, but I was also enjoying his nearness without having to worry about conversation. We hadn't had many moments like this since he'd returned.
I looked overhead too, seeing brilliant stars dot the night sky. Even the bright lights below couldn't damper their sparkle. I lived in Los Angeles all my life and it wasn't until recently that I started to appreciate the stars, and the vastness of the universe. Maybe it was because of all the grisly things I encountered on my job, or having too many brushes with death in the past few years. Perhaps it was because my partner proclaimed he was the devil and my roommate was supposedly his demon ninja. Whatever was causing it, I could sense a shift in my viewpoint.
After I had tossed Lucifer's blood sample I stopped trying to figure out his whole devil schtick. If I were being honest with myself I would have to admit it was because I was afraid if I kept digging I might start to believe him. Too many unexplainable things happened in his presence.
His chair creaked and I looked over to see him roll his neck against the cushion to angle his head in my direction.
He continued to watch me, until I finally said, "What? You're staring."
He sipped his drink. "I'm officially single again, so what do you say?"
The question was strange and ambiguous. We both knew his marriage had not been one formed of love, or based on any real relationship and it was weird deciding whether accolades or sympathy should be offered. But then, this was Lucifer and he had weird down in spades.
I arched an eyebrow at him. "Congratulations?"
He shook his head and shuffled his chair closer to mine, a small smile turning up one corner of his mouth and he waved his hand to dismiss my words, indicating my response was incorrect. "Nope."
A flash of disappointment shot through me. Did he have me come here to tell me he was having second thoughts about splitting from Candy?
"I'm sorry?" I said in the same questioning tone as before.
He moved towards me again, shifting his body so he was tilted forward, close enough to touch me. "You are really bad at this game." He softened his chastising by tucking a strand of loose blonde hair behind my ear. "Guess again."
As his fingertips brushed my skin another feeling raced through me and it wasn't disappointment. A surge of heat, tinged with nervousness.
I was used to his flirting, especially in the "before" half of whatever we were now, and I had turned fending off his playful advances into an art form. Back then it was easier to deny my attraction to him because I compartmentalized him in my head as a bored, wealthy playboy nightclub owner with a penchant for pretending he was the devil. Things were different now. He'd changed so much and now when I thought of him he was only Lucifer, my brain no longer applied the other description or negative connotation that went with it. And that was how he'd slowly seeped from the confining compartment in my mind until he was imprinted everywhere. That's why I allowed myself to get close to him, to consider the possibility of a relationship. And look at how well that turned out.
Since he'd returned from Las Vegas, I'd used anger as a buffer for my attraction. Letting it burn out any thoughts like Oh, how adorable, sweet, nice, sexy, or whatever complimentary adjective popped into my head, he was. But it wasn't easy, especially in moments like this when he was touching me and looking at me so earnestly.
He grew impatient waiting for me to produce another answer. "Fine, I had hoped you would come to this on your own, but very well, I'll just ask."
He cupped my chin and ran his thumb along my cheekbone, his long eyelashes lowering as he dipped his gaze to my mouth, his tongue sliding out to sweep across his lips.
My brain started firing off warning signals and reminding me how angry I was at him, sending out SOSs to pull back. My body, though, did not comply and continued to pool heat in low places. I could smell the cologne he must have applied this morning. It was faint and almost faded completely away but in this proximity the last bit of its musky scent still clung to his neck.
He got ready to speak again, continuing to run his thumb along the curve of my face. I steeled myself for his words, trying to mentally prepare if it was something I didn't want to hear, because leave it to Lucifer to disguise upsetting news in flirtatious behavior.
"Do you want to make out?" Okay, not what I was expecting, but totally Lucifer. And it even made up for the missed hard drink comment.
Absolutely not, my brain said.
"Mmm," my mouth said, opting for an incoherent mumble instead of the words that were supposed to come out. And damn it all if it didn't sound like a moan.
"Come on, Detective. Just some good old fashioned making out, that's all. No expectations no obligations."
After he spoke his invitation hung suspended in the air between us. All I had to do was lean over a half inch further and our lips would meet. He picked up the hand I had wrapped around the armrest of my chair and pulled it against his sternum, settling it with his in the V of his open shirt. My fingertips twitched and caressed him involuntarily at the feel of his warm body below them.
He leaned in sliding his cheek along mine until he could speak into my ear. "We don't even have to call it making out. If you'd prefer snogging, necking, heavy petting, hot grinding with our clothes on, whatever the kids are saying nowadays. I'm up for suggestions."
With one hand already occupied gripping his shirt (to prevent further exploration of his chest), my other traitorous hand crept up so I could stroke the back of his neck and run my fingers through his hair. I would never admit it, but I'd always wondered what it would be like to get my hands in his hair.
He made a pleased sound and nuzzled my ear, "Think of the possibilities. Over the knickers. Under the knickers. You call the shots."
Suddenly, I was struck by the audacity of what he was suggesting. A little over a month ago I thought we were on track to explore something special between us. I'd shoved all my what ifs and worries that things could go badly aside and kissed him on the beach. Then he helped save my life, and then, he disappeared. An order of events that made no sense to me. And ̶ the absolute kicker ̶ when he returned, he was married. He had some nerve to be propositioning me so blatantly.
This was good, I could feel anger building as my thoughts whirred and it was starting to override my lust. I concentrated on that and tried to ignore the feeling of his breath on my neck and hand on my knee.
"Lucifer!"
"Yes, Detective?" He pulled back to look at me from under hooded eyelids.
"This is not okay," I said, removing my hand from his shirt and plucking his own off my knee.
"But you were enjoying yourself, I know you were."
"That is not the point!" I pushed him further back so I could stand, not bothering to deny the truth in his words. "Did you invite me over tonight thinking that I'd fool around with you, just because you asked?"
"Well, usually I don't have to ask."
I made a growling noise and buried my hands in my hair. The man could be so damn clueless. I walked over to the balcony edge and clutched the clear railing, glancing out over the city as I thought about my next words.
"How can you act like nothing ever happened? Like you weren't sporting a wedding ring and a stripper on your arm three weeks ago? I mean, we haven't even talked about it and you're out here trying to get in my pants."
"Dearie me," he sighed, "she was an exotic dancer. And I left it up to you about the knickers."
I whirled towards him. "For Christ's sake, Lucifer." He winced at my use of 'Christ'. "I am being serious."
He got up and came to stand alongside me, reaching for my hand. I shoved it into my pocket before he could touch me. He looked at me, his nearly black eyes finding my own and a small, sad smile resting on his handsome face. "To be fair," he pointed out, "I did try to talk to you after Candy left."
"I wasn't ready to talk about it!" I yelled, surprising both him and myself.
He held his hands out in a placating manner. "Okay, so let's chat about it now, shall we?"
I took a gulp of air. Now that I had the opportunity I wasn't sure if I wanted to pursue it and dredge up all those emotions, especially in front of Lucifer himself. The hurt was still there, right under the surface. I had always thought that part of Lucifer's pursuit of me was because he couldn't have me and it was the thrill of the chase. When I'd finally stopped squelching my growing feelings for him and decided to give in to the curiosity, I had to let that fear go. But the night I arrived at Lux to find him gone it had proven to me that I was correct in my original assumption. That although I might be a fun plaything, I wasn't worth the seriousness of his time.
I didn't realize I had been staring down at my shoes for an unknown duration until Lucifer tilted my chin up. "Chloe? Look at me, please?"
At the sound of him using my name instead of my title the already fragile wall I built began to crack. "Lucifer, I-I don't know." I couldn't make myself step away from him though. He didn't say anything, waiting for me to go on.
Shit, the tears were coming and there was nothing I could do to stop them. No matter how much I didn't want to cry in front of him I didn't have a choice. The first tear trickled down my face and I removed my hand from my pocket to quickly swipe it away. Lucifer's eyebrows rose in surprise and he cocked his head to the side.
"You're crying?"
I glared at him through weepy eyes. "Is that so hard to understand? You hurt me, Lucifer. I mean, I knew it was questionable to try to pursue something with you, but I did it anyway, thinking that you'd changed. After all we've been through together, you just left. No call, no note, not even a fuck you, I'm gone." I poked him with my forefinger to emphasize my point.
He glanced down and rubbed his chest in the spot I'd assaulted.
"I had no idea what happened to you, if you were okay, if you needed help. I was worried sick!"
"Chloe-"
"No. Don't 'Chloe' me. You told me you'd never lie to me, Lucifer. And you did. You let me think that we could be something. All you had to do was tell me you weren't interested, that all your flirting and pretending to care about me was just for show."
His face hardened as he processed what I was saying. "Wait just a minute, Detective," he said, holding up his index finger and putting some emphasis on the last word. "I'll have you know that I did not lie to you. I may not be the best at deciphering emotions but I do know I care about you and that my leaving had nothing to do with me not wanting to be with you."
He paced a few feet away before turning back to me. "Have you any idea how hard it was for me to walk away from you? Knowing that you had almost died? Those two weeks in Las Vegas without you were worse than a century in Hell." His voice cracked and his head drooped. "The whole while I was gone, there was a ... "
He made a circling motion with his wrist, looking for the right word. "A gnawing in my chest. It was a Dad-awful feeling, like a hellhound was trying to chew its way out of me. I thought something was wrong physically, however the second I saw you again, it went away."
He slumped back down on the lounger and put his head in his hands.
Well, this had taken an unexpected turn. I dug my fingernails into my palms to stop myself from dashing over to him to give him a hug.
My crying was slowing down, mostly because seeing him looking so broken usurped my own emotional discomfort. I sniffled a few times and gave in to myself, going to sit next to him on his chair.
He took my hand in his, idly playing with my fingers as he spoke again. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I know now I shouldn't have left. It's just that there's very few beings that ever trusted me with their feelings." He scowled at the sky. "And then you came along and I started experiencing things I never have before. I learned what it was like for someone to put their faith in me, to see that I was more than the expectations forced upon me, and beyond that I learned that not everyone and everything was out to get me.
"But of course dear old Dad had to be involved and muck it up somehow, didn't he?" Lucifer scoffed as he gestured to the sky.
I furrowed my brow, "What? What are you talking about, Lucifer?"
He shook his head as he squeezed my fingers gently. "You wouldn't believe me anyway."
I stretched my other hand out, stroking his forearm to soothe and encourage him. "Try me."
Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated and will be responded to if your PMs are on. Let me know if there are any questions. More to come soon.