Chloe stood by the open window, desperately trying to breathe in this cloying heat.
Closing her eyes for a very brief moment, she allowed her mind to wander to an ice cold glass of wine; watching intently as a droplet of condensation meandered its way down the sheerness of the curve of the...No! Chloe shook her head to dismiss the image. Perhaps a sun shade, a lounger and a good book instead of wine at this time of day and the connotations of the...No! Anywhere, actually - the back yard of the house would do - just not this suffocating station. Yes, safer to think of the back yard with Trixie's lime green paddling pool and a mocktail. Yes, that's better. Stops the old mind wandering, doesn't it?
She carefully fanned her face with a handful of paper that she had spirited from her desk in search of respite from her stuffy, stifling corner. The makeshift fan was nothing amongst the tumult of thick, heavy air that swirled around her. It was like wading through treacle. A swimming pool, not a paddling pool...Caribbean beach...cocktails, not wine...pineapple coconut champagne...Shut up, Decker! Her mouth was almost watering at the prospect and that cold cup of coffee that was sitting congealing on her desk made her stomach turn.
It was only ten o'clock in the morning but the damn building was a furnace already. A low level of conversations, computers with emails pinging and telephones rumbled up from downstairs as she stood at the top of the stairs; even the ramped up whirr of the air conditioning was having little effect. Yes of course Los Angeles had its fair share of sun, but this was utterly beyond contempt for an early June Monday morning.
Her mind began to wander again to that cool liquid sliding down her throat, that first buzz of your body relaxing, the sun sparkling high in the sky, maybe the soothing lap of the waves as they caressed the shore...Her eyes closed, fairly sure nobody could see her. Five minutes, that was all. Five minutes of peace. Let her think of that beach...except...
It didn't last long.
She did not realise she had company until she heard a scratch of a shoe on the floor and turned to find Lucifer standing little more than an inch or two behind her. "Do not..." she started, enunciating her words as her day dream was rudely interrupted. "Do. Not. Creep. Up. On. Me." How many times has she told him not to? It was almost as though he took pleasure in making her jump out of her skin. No, she thought, he did take a great amount of pleasure for it. There was no 'almost' about it.
"I didn't", Lucifer responded with his usual indignation, feeling a gentle rush of air as she continued to wave the paper in front of her face, loose tickles of her blonde hair brushing his face. "I would rather like to think I surreptitiously arrived. Creeping is such a low brow activity even for me," he concluded. In truth, he had seen her lost in her own thoughts a few minutes before and an introspective detective was one that unnerved him. Particularly after all that had happened these past few months and he was perhaps a touch jumpy around her still, so he had to find out what was occupying her mind.
Instead, Chloe smiled and breathed in what little fresh air was offered to her. The sun glinted from the windows of the building opposite and for a second it blinded her. "It is so hot", she complained. "Hot as He..." She stopped when she realised what she was about to say and she zipped her lips shut quickly and stared out of the window again.
"It's quite alright Detective. You can say the word, you know", Lucifer responded quietly, leaning closer to her ear. "Although I must admit that this entire Fires of Hell business is very much a human invention that there was barbecue weather all day every day. Some of it is quite cold and grey at times" he continued. "Much like our new Lieutenant's soul".
Chloe pushed away a chuckle and turned slightly to regard him. He was still standing far too close but Lucifer had little respect for personal space and simply put, she was just used to it now that it didn't matter any more. He was wearing a navy blue suit, waistcoat, tie, jacket and..."How are you standing there dressed like that in this heat?" she asked, exasperated with him, and herself for that, feeling that warmth pervading off him. Again. She was in a thin white t-shirt and jeans and struggling in all respects.
"Well", he started, licking his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets, straightening his back and waiting to drop the bomb. "I could, if it's your deepest darkest desire Detective, perform a striptease if you wish, but I can tell you now from an emotional standpoint this entire station would never be the same again". He wanted to say 'neither would you' but refrained. "But, if it pleases you, I'll remove my jacket". He promptly did so, feeling immediately bereft of his usual impeccable attire. She saw him fold the garment over his arm, seeing a flash of the ridiculously expensive label at the neck.
"I just don't want people..." she whispered, holding the paper fan to her chest, "asking questions". She knew who he was. She had known for almost six months now even though she had somehow blindly missed how truthful he had actually been from the moment she met him. He was surprised she was still here. He was surprised he was still here too.
In time though, whilst she still had those moments, she had accepted him for what he was, although there relationship was still more that of colleagues, friends and that cloudy grey middle of something that neither could explain that time had settled them into. Her outrageous paranoia about his identity had lessened too but when everybody else in the station was walking around in shirtsleeves, t shirts and in one case a rather eye-watering example of palm tree board shorts and sliders, he stuck out like a sore thumb.
"I will ensure my behaviour is appropriate, Detective" he replied, still keeping his voice low. "You know I can be an exceptionally well behaved Devil if you ask me to be..."
"Sssshhh", she whispered, hoping her cheeks did not colour, particularly as she could feel his breath on her ear as he loomed over her. Of it all, she could not shake the attraction she tried so desperately to ignore and he had seen right through. He knew it too, and that infuriated her at times as well as he certainly knew which buttons to press.
"Decker!"
The shout of her name caused her to spin around, almost knocking Lucifer out of the way with her shoulder. To a certain degree, she was relieved for the interruption. She even felt guilty for slacking on the job let alone with her partner so close to her person.
Chloe found the new lieutenant standing at the bottom of the stairs. Lieutenant Rogers; a 'temporary' arrangement that had lasted much longer than they thought with his pot belly and utter inability to chase a suspect because of it. He had come from across town to replace Pierce and he was fairly asinine, if not slightly gruff with her. He was holding a file which he presented to her after they made their way down to him, Lucifer following a step behind, assuming where she was going, he was too. "A young girl" Rogers started. "Body found down just off the Little Tujunga Canyon Road, just after the Polo Club. Forensics are already up there."
"Isn't that off our patch?" Chloe responded, casually opening up the file.
Rogers shook his head. "Its a long road and not this part of it". With that he was off back into his office. She watched him go and they walked to her desk where she dumped the paper fan.
"Nothing like being given sufficient information to be able to..." Chloe muttered, looking down into the file to find little more than a typed sheet with a few lines on it. "Look at that" she said, waving the file at him, "a map location and that's that!" Maybe the heat was getting to her more than she thought.
"Oh, come on Detective" Lucifer replied, putting his jacket back on again and buttoning it up carefully. Musn't crease the Prada. "Nothing like an adventure into the unknown you mean. You know I love a good stiff one to start the day..."
Chloe breathed in and out, biting back a retort as she seized her own jacket from the back of her chair and ignored the shit-eating grin he had on his face as he sat on the edge of her desk; one foot dangling. "Do not refer to them as 'stiffs', Lucifer. It's disrespectful at best. This poor girl probably had a family, boyfriend, girlfriend, parents, maybe even a kid..." There were times when she truly wanted to punch him. Or kiss him. No, punch him. Yes that was it. Punch him. Repeatedly and wipe off that smug grin that was currently decorating his face.
"I was referred to a stiff finger or two of Whiskey to start the day if you must know, Detective". He stood up. "Just to get the old blood flowing again. What did you think I meant?!" His face was a picture of innocence and faux confusion as she grabbed her car keys and deliberately brushed past him, cracking his foot with her leg for good measure. He was taken slightly aback with the sudden assault. "Oh! I am sorry, Detective!" he called after her as he got up. "I never realised you liked it rough!"
Chloe was determined not to get into a discussion, no, a lecture, regarding appropriateness and behaviour in the workplace again yet. She did not see that the grin was back as she strode towards the stairs again as a few heads turned at his rather loud remark. He followed quickly not seeing the look of despair on her face.
They had no idea what they were about to find.