"Here," said Chloe, offering Lucifer her cupped hands.
Lucifer, by reflex, cupped his own hands under hers. She poured brusquely into them an odd jumble of objects: a sewing pin with a large red plastic head, a cigarette lighter, an alcohol swab, a piece of sidewalk chalk.
She immediately took back the pin and the lighter. "Clean your finger," she ordered, nodding at the alcohol swab.
"Which one?" Lucifer asked in bewilderment, watching as she flicked the lighter to life and held the pin in its flame. "And why?"
"We're gonna do some tests. So one on your left hand. Whichever."
"I do not like the direction this is taking," Lucifer grumbled as he tucked the chalk into his pocket, then tore open the alcohol swab and scrubbed it over his left middle finger.
He was starting to feel genuinely nervous. Chloe had known who and what he was for roughly two and a half days, and so far . . . well, so far, it had been all right. She had alternated between plowing ahead with what needed to be done, focusing on work with resolute professionalism, and peppering him with clear, blunt questions that were leaving him frazzled and off balance. After nearly three days of telling her about the nature of the universe and all of his most intimate and personal feelings, he was feeling rather like a landed fish.
When both his finger and the pin were as clean as they could be made, Chloe handed the pin back to him and led the way outside to the street in front of her home. It was a gray, bright Los Angeles afternoon, her first day off since everything had gone down.
"All right," she announced as he joined her on the sidewalk, "Where should we start? Ten feet? Less?"
"Ten at least." He took a few strides away from her, then turned back to be sure he still had her attention. She was watching him with folded arms, her gaze professional and impassive.
He dug the pin into his finger, hissing a little more than he needed to just in case she was inclined to feel sorry for him. Bright red blood welled up.
"All right," said Chloe. "Go another five steps and try again."
"This does hurt," he reminded her as he did as she instructed.
"You had Maze cut your wings off, multiple times. I think you can handle it."
He had a good dozen tiny wounds on his finger, and he was about halfway along the next block, when the pin refused to break through his skin. Grinning, he looked up and shouted back to her. "That's it!"
"Yeah?"
He held his hands above his head and stabbed the pin into his finger where she could see. Down the street, she squinted, then stepped closer to get a better look. The pin immediately sank into his flesh.
"OW! Bloody hell, Detective!"
"Sorry!" Chloe shouted back.
Lucifer retreated a step and gritted his teeth as he yanked the pin out. Blood was now threatening to drip on the pavement, so he extracted the pocket square from his jacket and pressed it into the myriad wounds. Then he paused, thought, looked behind him at the blocks and blocks of sidewalk disappearing into the distance, and turned back towards Chloe.
"Why didn't we just start somewhere out there and work our way in?" he demanded.
She cupped her hands around her mouth to be sure he heard her reply. "I'm still mad at you!"