Chapter 3.
Chloe climbed out of the hot tub, water draining from her soaked clothes. Standing up, she felt dizzy again. Perhaps the drugs weren't wearing off as quickly as she thought. As she struggled to unclasp the straps of her shoes, Lucifer came out from the hallway carrying a towel and some fresh clothes.
"I'm sorry," he said, "These appear to be all I have at the moment. This dress looked comfortable, and in case you don't like it, here are some of my pajamas." He set them down on the table and guided her to a chair.
"And I'm sorry for getting water all over your floor."
"Sit. That's very considerate of you, but I assure you that it's no problem at all." He knelt at her feet and easily slipped off her heels. Pity, he thought, what a beautiful pair of shoes. The suede will be ruined now. He set them aside and looked up at her, hesitating a moment, adrift in the way she was looking back at him.
A cough broke their silence. Maze was standing in the doorway. She motioned for Lucifer to come join her so that Chloe wouldn't hear them.
"He's in the basement."
"Alive, I hope? I do so endeavor to have a chat." Lucifer snarled.
"Yes, though not necessarily unharmed." She replied coolly, her arms crossed.
"Watch her," he directed and Maze nodded.
He walked back over to Chloe. "Darling, there's something I have to take care of. I won't be long. Maze will stay with you. You know which way the shower is if you'd like to rinse off and change."
Chloe nodded, somewhat indignant that he thought she needed a babysitter, but glad that he cared enough to make sure she was safe. He left as she turned her attention to Maze, who walked behind the bar and made herself a drink.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want another?" Maze sneered, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. She hated Chloe for many reasons, but a part of her also felt protective, particularly because the sorry bastard downstairs dared to try to take advantage of a woman on her watch. She should've sniffed him out and cut him to pieces sooner.
"No, thank you, I think I've had enough. Though, I have to admit, the drink you made was quite good. Loved the flower."
Maze smirked. "Yeah, I thought you might."
"So, do you know who did it?"
Maze shifted her weight to her other foot, feeling out of place and angry about it. "I do now. Don't worry, he'll never do something like that again."
"It must've been someone who bumped into me while I was walking in the crowd. What'll happen to him?"
"He'll be handed over to the police… eventually." Maze made her way to a chair and sprawled out. "Go get changed, you're a soaking wet mess." She didn't say anything about the lipstick obviously smeared across Chloe's face, but looked her up and down with contempt.
Chloe obliged and disappeared to the bathroom. When she emerged, she was wearing the dress, having found that Lucifer's pajamas simply fell off of her. It was a long silk gown of sorts, quite comfortable, bunched at the waist and crisscrossing in the back. She also liked the ivory color. Walking barefoot across the floor, she noticed Maze fixing the amber vase, who turned around with a knowing smirk. "The lipstick, the vase, what have you been up to, detective? Never mind, I don't care."
"Nothing."
"I said I don't care." She walked back to her chair and sat, watching Chloe with an amused expression.
"Why do you hate me so much?" Chloe asked, too frankly.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Maze retorted, not at all trying to hide her sarcasm.
Chloe sat down in a chair opposite her. "Okay, fine, I get it. I take up a lot of the boss's time."
"Time? You could ask him for anything and he'd come running like a stupid dog." Maze spat. "And why?"
"Okay, surely that's an—"
"You know that song he played for you tonight? He's never played it before. He's never played like that before. It's disgusting. It's dripping all over him. And you lead him around by the nose, doing your dirty business—"
"That's quite enough." Lucifer appeared in the doorway looking disheveled and heated.
Maze gave him a long, meaningful glare, pursed her lips, and strode out, slamming her empty glass on the bar. He turned his attention to Chloe. "I see my pajamas were unsatisfactory."
"I couldn't quite get them to stay on."
He laughed. "Well, you look lovely in that dress."
She smiled and made an aggrandized hand gesture. "It makes me feel like royalty. Which I am."
"That you certainly are, dear." He trailed off to wash his hands in the bar sink, eager to get rid of any traces of blood. She could've guessed as much, but her mind was thankfully elsewhere. "Shall we cool off for a bit on the balcony?" he suggested.
She let him lead her outside by the hand. The skyline was full of twinkling lights against the dark sky. You couldn't see the stars from the city, but the lights in the office buildings glimmered a bit like modern, mechanical constellations. Somewhere in the distance, a melody was playing. Someone was having a party on a rooftop nearby. The air was warm and seemed to linger. "I've always loved the stars," Chloe spoke first, leaning on the railing and looking out over the city.
"I didn't take you for an astronomy enthusiast, detective."
She laughed. "I doubt I could call myself that, but it's always fascinated me. So many others galaxies out there… do you believe in aliens?"
"Aliens, really?" He looked at her. "As it just so happens, I don't have to believe, I know."
"Oh, right, right, because you're the king of hell!" she mused. "Enlighten me."
He ignored her remark and continued. "Yes, of course yours isn't the only planet infested with life in this magnificent universe. How pompous of humanity to assume so."
She giggled at the seriousness of his tone, looking him over. "Dance with me, then, oh king of hell. I want to have a hell of a night to not remember."
He held out his hand and drew her closer. The night was winding down, and the sun would soon rise. The first rays of dawn were beginning to sprout from the horizon. She placed her head on his shoulder, both of them too tired to try to think anymore. He wrapped her hand in his and brought it to his chest, rocking them gently to the faint rhythm. As they turned, he looked out into the sky. Of all the places to be, he could've never predicted he would ever be here, dancing on a rooftop with a woman he'd never even kissed. So content in such an ordinary moment, so thrilled by such conventional things as the smell of her hair and the weight of her hand. He thought back to what she said about feeling suspended in a sunset at sea. The music painted such a beautiful picture for her, as she now painted for him. What a wondrous being. A human! He'd thought them so far beneath him that he gave up paradise to stand by his beliefs, and here in one small moment, all of his theory proved wrong. He suddenly felt overwhelmed with remorse and awe, wrath and compassion, all at the same time, spinning his head and making him want to set everything on fire and forget.
"Luci? Is everything okay?"
He looked at her examining him quizzically. "Of course, why wouldn't it be?"
"You stopped dancing."
"Apologies, darling."
"It's alright. I'm quite tired. You must be, too. I'm feeling much better, so maybe we can go to sleep now?"
"I must say, you have the metabolism of a lioness. I've never seen someone recover so quickly, especially someone so small."
She laughed, ending on a hum, and leaned against him again. "Out of terrible circumstances, I've somehow had a lovely evening. I'm sorry that I've inconvenienced you and taken over your entire—"
"I have also had," he cut her short, "the most wonderful time. Your company is always welcome, though the circumstances of tonight are not." With a tinge of sadness that every night must come to an end, no matter how much we don't want it to, he stroked her hair, relishing in one last glance at the rising sun.
"I wish I could remember this tomorrow," she said sadly. "Maybe I will. But maybe I'll forget it all like a wonderful dream. Will you remind me?"
"You may not wish to remember tomorrow."
"What if I do?"
"Then I'll tell you whatever you wish to know."
"Carry me to bed."
"As you wish."
He scooped her up and turned his back on the sunrise, walking inside as she laughed and muttered. He carefully lay her down on his bed and turned to walk away when she pulled him back by his hand. He looked at her questioningly. "Yes?"
"I said I'd accept your apology on a condition."
He chuckled, surprised that she remembered this particular detail. "I take it you've thought of what you want?"
"…A kiss goodnight."
"Chloe…" his breath caught in his throat again, a sensation he still wasn't entirely familiar with.
"If I won't remember tomorrow, then what does it matter?"
"It matters because when you ask me and I tell you, I don't want it to be something you regret."
"I won't! But doesn't it feel like the only possible end to this strange fairytale evening? How often does something like this happen to you? It never happens to me. Never at all. Maybe I'll never feel this way again, and maybe I'll never feel brave enough to ask again. But once in my life…"
He stood dumbfounded by her request. He had expected that she would forget her clause, hoped that if she remembered, she would ask him for a favor, and feared that she would use it as a bargaining chip to stop him from breaking some rule or other. But a kiss? A kiss from the devil somehow seemed less than she deserved.
"Come on, you promised. …Oh. Um. Unless you don't… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
He threw his head back and looked at the ceiling for divine inspiration, then knelt down next to her. "Maybe I won't tell you about this."
"Deal." She giggled, dreamlike in the glow of the lights, and closed her eyes.
He searched her face as he ran his fingers down her cheek and behind her ear. Here was the devil on his knees, praying like a sinner before the most sacred of altars. He closed his eyes as he felt the heat radiating from her body and it seemed to him a vision of a light he'd long forgotten. As his lips just barely brushed hers, he sensed her reach up toward him, her mouth opening slightly with his. He froze for a moment, overtaken by the sensation of lightning shooting through his chest, before he pressed his mouth softly into hers. She whimpered faintly into him as he drew away and kissed her again. Finally, he left her lips and hovered above them, unable to will his own to move any farther. He'd kissed hundreds of women before, and men, and demons, and angels, but never once in his long life had he felt unable to move.
"Thank you," she muttered sweetly, and he finally snapped back to reality and propped himself up beside her. She was smiling, her eyes still closed as if she didn't want the next moment to alter her image of the previous one. He wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Goodnight, detective."
As he walked away, she was already asleep. He felt adrift and detached from his usual self. Perhaps this was all a dream and he'd be the one waking up bewildered tomorrow morning. How empty he would feel then, he thought, absent-mindedly touching his lips.