Chapter 6 - Cookie Revelations and a Devilish roller coaster
She floats on the ocean on her favorite air mattress, the light green one that as a jungle print on it. The blue sky stretches endlessly, as does the ocean. She is alone, but it does not feel bad; the sun is so warm and cozy. Not biting or stinging, just... perfect. Ah, how wonderful it is to be lazy in the sunshine! She cannot remember when she's ever felt so relaxed. The gentle sounds and movements of the waves sooth her heart, caress her soul.
She blinks. Suddenly, there is a common black-headed seagull. She wonders where it came from. It must have landed on her mattress but she had not noticed. Strange. It cocks its head and regards her. And now it tries to tell her something. She can hear its staccato cry that sounds like laughing, but does not get what it wants to let her know.
No, it's not the talking seagull. Someone murmurs something.
She knows that voice, she's heard it before… she tries to concentrate. If only her nose would not itch so much!
It's the seagull, dang the bird, it has stretched its wing forward and tickles her nose with one of its flight feathers. Since when do seagulls do such things? She mumbles and jerks, trying to shoo the stupid animal away. It cocks its head and grins with Lucifer's toothy grin...?
Chloe's mind reboots slowly. She cracks open one eye. It is warm and soft around her but there is no sunshine. Rather, it is night-time. The murmuring voice…. Lucifer. That is Lucifer's voice!
She revels in its rumbling, soothing tone. It feels like being home, being young, innocent and protected. A feeling she thought she had long forgotten.
But… there was something urgent, she can't remember what it was, but his voice is… not urgent, no. It is lovely, deep, resonant... She loves how his voice sounds. the subsonic vibrations sweep into her and make her warm inside.
After a while, she tries to listen.
"...thought I'd lost you, Chloe. That you would fear me, now that you know who I am." She feels him shiver. Little, small tremors. Now she knows where she is: In Lucifer's arms. He is holding her, she can smell him. His typical mixture of expensive cologne, whiskey, cigarettes and… light? With difficulty, she cracks the other eye open.
The tickling thing at her nose, it's something white, it is glowing… ah. It's a feather, indeed.
He… has engulfed her in his wings. No wonder she feels as if she's floating. She senses their melodious humming sound, smells their light. Smelling light seems to be part of her new reality, now, right?
One by one, her own senses kick back in, belatedly, and so does her memory. She keeps her eyes closed and listens.
"To be honest with you, I am still afraid. Afraid that you will change your mind, once you ask questions and learn more about me, more about my... monstrous side… we… we have this deal and I'll honour it and…. even without our deal, I want to be honest with you. You deserve the truth, Chloe, but still…. I'm… I'm so... afraid I'll lose it all, lose you, the moment you know all of me…."
His soft, tender whispers are like a colourful stream of music homing in on her mind.
She feels like being in a déjà-vu, a vivid dream.
Lucifer talked to her like he does now when he came back from Vegas and found her sleeping in his bed, drunk, dressed in his shirt, amidst a raided penthouse and close to the demolished wall around his safe.
Another person would probably have been angry at all the wreckage they had produced, partying uninvited in his home. But, typical Lucifer, he'd been amused instead, delighted even.
Instead of being angry, he had gifted her the bullet necklace. Come to think of it, now that she knows who he is, she can fully appreciate how intimate it was. How he'd actively hinted at his own vulnerable state when it came to her; it was one of the things she has to examine closer, question no. #7 on her list, she recalls. Obviously, Lucifer had taken his vulnerability and put it trustingly back into her small human hands in the form of this necklace. Practically since the moment she took it off - for Cain, of all human stains - she felt bad for shoving him, his gesture, away like that. She begins to fathom how deeply she must have hurt Lucifer, now that she knows the truth. She still feels embarrassed when she thinks about how easily she had let Cain drive a wedge between her and Lucifer.
Remarkably, the necklace for her had been the only item stored in his safe. Which told her, in no uncertain words, that he values non-material things higher than goods, although he might probably be wealthy beyond imagination (question #44 on her list). Although he often acts as if he cares about things when he whines over stained suits or smeared loafers.
She can feel the little pendant of the chain around her neck glowing with warmth on her chest. Her skin tingles where it touches her. Or is it just her imagination?
Lucifer is obviously more forthcoming when he thinks I'm asleep, she thinks, but she doesn't want to eavesdrop longer than it takes her to fully wake up.
So, she fakes a yawn (another déjà-vu!) and briefly wonders if he can see through her and is just polite enough to accept it. Then she resolutely shoves the tickling feather away from her nose, straightens up and graces him with a sleepy smile, infused by all ther wake-up thoughts about this remarkable man, no, she corrects herself, Devil… Angel. Archangel, to be precise.
It will take her some time to get used to the fact that he's not human. And she is in a fallen Archangel's arms right now. Oh okayyy... Another tiny shuddering freak-out courses through her veins, and she's grateful that it's dampened this time by her still being wrapped up in his warm, humming wings.
As she opens her eyes to look into his, she finds Lucifer's soft brown eyes look down on her with tenderness and concern. "Are you ok, Detective? I- I should not have taken this… service from you. Please, accept my deepest apologies! That was… was very selfish of me."
Chloe blinks and smiles at him, still busy getting her brain back into full functionality, banishing divine singing wings, floating mattresses or talking seagulls alike.
She stirs and pulls herself into a more upright position, supported by his arms and one wing. "S-service? What service…? Oh. You mean… me, sorting out your wings…?"
She shakes her head in disbelief. "Lucifer, It's the least I could do for you, after everything you've done for me and Trixie," she breathes, then smiles at him reassuringly.
"It… it was my pleasure to be allowed to sort out your wings." She waits for a pun, but none comes, which tells her how rattled he still is, regarding her with slightly parted lips and big eyes, speechless. "It was just so… overwhelming, you know? Because, in a… wonderful way (she searches for a stronger word and fails)... it was as if I touched your… heart? Soul? Essence… ?" she tries and hears him exhale softly.
"Soul… I think" he supplies, barely audible.
Their eyes connect and she feels like she's drowning in these soft dark eyes and the small, hesitant smile he gives her, unsure, almost shy. Shy! Lucifer, of all… Devils! Her heart flies to him and she thinks that she wants to stay here forever, to lose herself... in his tender eyes, his arms, in this moment.
But the memories trickle back, one by one. Finally she remembers and freezes. "W...Wait… did I… did I fall asleep?"
Her cheeks blush, embarrassment spreading in her chest. "Tell me… oh no! I did not actually fall asleep on your back, did I?"
Lucifer chuckles warmly, his mouth curls into a smile at the edges but he regards her with tenderness. "I'm afraid you did, Love. No worries, though, it was my pleasure to carry your precious little weight for a while. Although I took the freedom to move you into a position that was more comfortable for both of us."
Sure. He has moved her so softly that she has slept on. The topic of his supernatural strength. She has to question him later about the extent of it.
He pulls her a little closer, hesitantly as if asking for permission and she melts into his chest immediately in response. It feels so good, so right, like coming home. She feels his arms pull her closer with grown confidence and sighs in bliss.
They cannot let go of one another now that they finally have this… solid fundament of their honesty deal to build a new relationship upon.
Everything is so new, so raw, so… exciting?
She feels that they are like two children, best friends, taking their first tentative, careful steps on that ice to test its firmness on the first crisp, sunny, brilliant winter day after a howling, raging winter storm has blown off. Smiling, excited, toes testing and probing, sensing all the endless possibilities for shared joy and laughter that the ice promises.
As she snuggles closer some hair strands fall into her face, tickling her cheeks. She wrinkles her nose. Immediately his left wing shoulder moves forward and gently shoves some of her hair behind her ear using a few spread wing-shoulder feathers like fingers, operating with stunning precision. Then his wing also hugs her closer to him, feathers comb over her hair briefly before the wing presses itself against her back, holding her upright. She feels the feathers do something rhythmically, what…? Oh! It feels likea very skilled massage on her knotted back muscles. Heavenly!
She feels the next mental mini-freak-out hit her when it finally sinks in that Lucifer's wings are an additional pair of limbs. Like, as if he's got a third and fourth arm. That he can probably use them with the same precision that he can use his fingers with, when he plays the piano. And not just for… flying, or travelling between...what, planes of existence? Obviously, he can do all sorts of stuff with them like combing her hair, dab tears off her cheek, or… or massage, capture, retrieve and embrace her! She wonders what else he can do!
She rubs her face with her hands and feels as if she's back to being a little girl. Chloe in Wonderland, she muses, trying to adjust to this new reality.
But Lucifer distracts her by sighing deeply. He sounds so troubled that she forgets her wing-freak out immediately.
"Detective I… I want to apologize for not considering beforehand how you… how sorting out my wings might probably affect you. Seems that I'm just the same old, stupid, selfish Devil, again."
"No, you're not, Lucifer! Not at all, and especially not to me! I offered to help you, didn't I? Anyway… do you mean to say that all people will feel your wings… sing… when they touch them? And then fall asleep, due to exhaustion? So did you know beforehand that this would happen?" she asks.
Chloe in Wonderland may feel naive and out of her element, but this is uncharted territory and she's determined to explore it. Dammit, even Wonderland-Chloe is a detective, after all!
"N-No, that's probably a first. I didn't anticipate that you would be able to sense what a sibling would sense when we… back then… when we groomed each other, or when we, ah, conjured music and colours together," he sighs, struggling for words to describe heavenly customs.
"Conjuring colours and music together," she parrots, then thinks for a moment. "Is that what the word hymnus means…?" she asks in a small voice. "Sorry, I've read a lot in the last days, mind you. Did you… I mean, do Angels…" she swallows, suddenly concerned that her tentative steps into Heaven territory may sit badly with him.
"Never mind. Sorry I asked. You don't have to answer any of this if you don't want to, Lucifer."
He hesitates for a moment, then makes up his mind. "No. No, it's fine. Honesty deal, remember? I want to answer you, Detective." For a moment he looks as if this surprises himself, but she knows that it is the truth. Always the truth.
"So, yes, good intuition with the meaning of hymnus, detective. Only that it is not just music. You see, Angels can weave a complex reality to express their joy, their exuberant joie de vivre, to be more precise. Hymnus consists of (he uses his fingers to tick them off) a harmonious multidimensional entity of music and rhythm, of swirling, changing colours, of delicious smells and of soft sensory feelings. A... a bit like touches are for lovers or… human parents and their children, I guess. And more things that are hard to describe. And… and wings are one tool for creating… this... " His voice trails off.
For just a second, Lucifer's reminiscent smile is so radiant and young that he almost looks as if he's a different person, an innocent boyish version of himself.
Of course, he pulls up his walls quicker than she can say "sex".
"Well, one more reason for me to cut them off!" He barks out a humourless laugh. "I haven't felt the urge to weave Heavenly sensory landscapes since they'd cast me out, stabbed my wings and threw me into Hell, without a farewell note or a get-well soon card, ever!" he growls.
She can sense his bitterness and hurt as if it were her own. Her heart bleeds for him.
He hesitates and she can hear the wonder in his voice. "Well, that was… until… you touched me. Chloe."
Hearing him practice using her name infuses her with glowing warmth from the inside.
Speaking of… she suddenly becomes aware that she's still in his lap, surrounded by his wings. And that he is that close! She can feel him with her entire body, or… soul? Anyway, with all her senses.
She longs to reach up with her hands, to feel his lips on hers. She lifts her hand tentatively, lets her fingertips explore his face, his hair, his lips. Barely touching, hesitant, shy. He closes his eyes in bliss and bows his head towards her, his expression soft and attentive. She traces the lines of his eyebrows gently, tastes his stubble with her fingertips. He leans into her touch with an expression as if he's listening to heavenly choirs.
She straightens up a bit and her body becomes more aware of him by the second. His closeness, his scent, his warm tights under her backside; how his left arm and also his wing that embrace her back hold her upright.
Chloe's heart suddenly starts to beat faster.
His lips are slightly parted as he regards her with the same helpless, lost expression full of awe that he had when he confessed to her that he's the Devil. Ages ago. Or just a few days.
All she can remember is his soft, warm lips on hers, so vividly as if he's just kissed her a second ago.
Suddenly, she cannot spent just one second longer without feeling him close to her, to feel his lips on hers again!
Her intentions must somehow have gotten through to him, nonverbally, because when she reaches up to frame his face and pull him towards her, he hesitantly bows down as if asking for permission.
"Chloe…" he breathes. Closer, closer...
She thinks she's going to die of anticipation until she can finally, finally feel his life-saving lips touch hers, testing each inch of her lips in reverent tender exploration, hardly even touching her. How can she be so on fire in his rising tide of tenderness?
She closes her eyes in delight and lets her heart and body - and soul? - revel in this moment of shared beauty. She can feel the very tip of his tongue touching her upper lip, the corners of her mouth, her lower lip. Testing, tickling. Exploring the thin ice of their... partnership?
Her lips burn from the touch as if he's bitten her, not caressed her. Then she can feel him shift slightly, missing the sensation of his lips for a split second before she can feel how he reverently touches her closed eyes, placing featherlight kisses there.
Every time he touches her eyes with his lips, a sparkle of swirling colours and faint harmonic notes erupt in her mind. It feels like a prayer, a Hallelujah she's never sung before.
Her breath quickens and so does his. She cannot let him go, she needs him, needs… more…
She opens her eyes just enough to place her hands on his stubble and draw his face closer. She thinks she needs to ravish him if the heat rushing through her veins is any indication, but then she cannot help herself. She reciprocates his overwhelming gentleness, placing soft kisses on his lips, the corners of his mouth and his rough stubble, savouring each tender sensation. Exploring him, all of him, gently, anticipation building like a tsunami.
When she finally nips at his full bottom lip with her teeth, caresses it with the tip of her tongue, he opens his lips immediately.
She meets his tongue with hers, intoxication flooding her at the taste of him! She doesn't know if the deep, resonating groan that echoes through their entwined bodies is hers or his.
When they finally part to breath in some air, panting heavily, her body is aflame like never before. Her core sends shock waves through her body, she can feel the tips of her breasts tingle and constrict, longing for his touch. And sensing beneath her how their kiss has affected him does not help her case.
She feels that she's never been in such a heightened over-sensitive state before, body and soul. Not like this, never like this….
Whatever she might or might not have felt for Marcus when she was still under the illusion that he loved her, pales and vanishes, cleared out like an evil eviscerated spirit from her memory, rinsed away by Lucifer's oh so tender, reverent touches, their passionate kiss, their shared joy on thin ice.
She thought that she would be hungry for him, fierce, devour him alive when it came to this. But, to her own surprise, it is tenderness that overwhelms her. She closes her eyes, lifts her face and gives herself into the wonder of his lips, his fingers… him.
Each touch is a kiss, each kiss is a soft touch, until nothing exists but them, suspended in each other.
Finally, when they part for air they rest their foreheads together. Home, home, home, her mind sings.
Lucifer's voice is hoarse with emotions when he finally speaks.
"As per our deal, Det.. Chloe, I need to tell you that I have never felt… like this before." He pants heavily and sways slightly. "Holding you close, touching you, is like being back in… in Heaven. Without the dull parts, mind you."
His small chuckle sounds like a little hiccup. "You… get under my skin, Chloe, you… I could lose myself in you… and I don't understand what is happening to me!" He shakes his head, eyes huge. "But I don't care, as long as it is you who takes care of me…" his voice trembles a little at the last words and trails off.
She sees the confusion in his warm, wide eyes. There is something more, something important… something like healing which she does not understand. Yet.
But most of all, she senses his deep trust. He trusts her with his fragile, confused emotional state.
Like someone who tentatively, carefully takes first steps with a crutch when getting up for the first time after a broken bone, testing their healing leg.
On thin, crispy ice glitzing in the sunlight under a deep-blue sky.
Lucifer swallows, she can see his adams apple bobb up and down. He opens his mouth and closes it again, tries to speak. He seems confused and - shy? Lucifer, of all people, er, Devils, shy? Ha!
"Chloe… would… would you be offended, my love, when I- I ask you if we may… take things slow...?"
He blinks and looks adorably dumbfounded, as if he can't believe what he's saying!
"It... it feels as if I have travelled dimensions all too fast and as if my soul lags behind." He swallows. "I feel as if I have to wait for it to catch up…."
His bewilderment is palpable. Chloe tries to hold her own emotions in check, physical and otherwise. The moment he says it, she knows that he's right, that taking it slow is right for her, too - for them.
Because there is no example to build upon for what a Human - Fallen-Angel/Devil relationship might look like. None, in all human history, she thinks. At least as far as her research goes.
They're both pioneers stepping into uncharted thin-ice territory.
She hesitates briefly. She has so many insecurities herself that for a moment she just wants to grab with him what she can. The need to be spontaneous, to be… someone she's not, she thinks. It's stupid, and probably fuelled by her recent experiences with men, especially her latest spectacular failure in choosing the world's first murderer.
But he's Lucifer! Sex-god extraordinaire, according to countless witnesses. And his own accord, of course. He's had eons of experiences with humankind in general and he's had so many gorgeous women over the centuries… millennia! How can she ever compete, stretchmarks and all?
And how can he be content or satisfied in a relationship with just one ageing mortal woman? After the first rush is gone? And if he isn't satisfied with their relationship, with her, what would she be willing to accept to make him happy, where would she draw the line?
There is still so much she doesn't know, so much she has to learn and ask, to give their "thing", them, the chance to build something novel on their fundament.
But she's willing to try, and cross the bridges of doubt once they got there. Together. So, going slow allows their ice to grow thicker and be more carrying, reliable.
She touches his face with a gentle smile, runs her index finger over his eyebrows, lightly, like a soft evening breeze. She smiles into his confused eyes.
"No, Lucifer. I do not mind. Not at all... I think slow is perfect for... us. Whatever us is, at the moment." She gestures to both of them with the hand that has traced his brows, then continues. Her words, and her touches. A little blissful sigh escapes him.
"I... as per our honesty deal, I have to tell you that this was… it was like touching your wings, it- it touched my…" she clears her throat, "...soul. And only then, through it, my body." She swallows. "I think I need time to get used to… us... this being so different…" Her words fade to a whisper.
"S-same here," she hears him murmur silently by her side.
She will need more practice saying "soul" now that she knows she has one. She tips her head back to be properly able to look into each other's eyes while his warm gaze explore hers.
Time seems to slow down to a meaningless tickle. After an eternity or maybe just a few minutes, the crashing of the waves work their way into her mind.
Chloe sighs, smiles at him, places a kiss on her fingertips and places them on his lips as she glides down from his lap, feeling immediately bereft when their physical contact breaks. From her sideways glance she guesses that he does, too.
As she stretches to move her slightly numb limbs after her divine nap, her foot knocks over a little box in the sand. She bows down and picks it up. "Look! It's Trixie's little gift box for you." She smiles happily and offers the wrapped package to Lucifer who carefully takes it from her hands, the edges of his mouth curling up.
She cocks her eyebrows inquisitively, hands propped up on her hips. "Tell me, what kind of deal did the Devil make with my daughter?"
Lucifer smiles reassuringly at her and ducks his head. "Do not worry, Detective. It has to do with the latest developments. When Beatrice's best friend, what's her name? Zoé? Had been kidnapped by the Manchinelli gang*, your daughter came to me, for several reasons. She felt that she had made a mistake that she wanted to rectify." Chloe nods, that much she knows already.
"Beatrice offered, among other things, to supply me regularly with my favorite Decker-homemade cookies, in exchange for my help to find and free her friend and punish those responsible."
Lucifer rattles the little box and unwarps it, sticks his nose into it and inhales in bliss. "Aha, lovely! Beatrice upheld her end of the bargain. Please offer her my thanks, Detective."
Chloe notes that he does no longer say "Spawn" or "Offspring" but that he's using her full given name or "daughter" when he speaks of Trixie. As if she has finally graduated from "child" as in "a thread to my suit" or "the Detective's overexcited extension that needs a leash" to a person he could actually communicate with. Her daughter has obviously become a person to him that he feels he has to address by her name. It deeply warms her heart.
The Devil pops a soft cookie into his mouth. "They're nearly as good as yours, Detective! With choco droplets and candied orange peel, excellent! My favorite kind! Want one?" He extends the cookie box to her.
"No, I'm not…" but before Chloe can say "hungry" her stomach growls louder than a pack of starved wolves circling a sheep. It sounds more like a rumbling earthquake.
"My, my, I see. You're obviously not hungry at all, Detective," Lucifer responds to her magnitude 9 earthquake. "Here, smell them, they're delicious! Mmmmh..." He shakes the box directly under her nose.
"Come on, they're good!" he purrs, "Give in to your desires for once!" She rolls her eyes at him and refuses out of principle!
It's not only her who knows him well, but he knows her well, too. He switches tactics in the blink of an eye, his brows now drawn together in concern pulling himself up into a stern-looking Devil, holding up his index finger and waving it at her.
"Detective, I must insist that you must replenish your dwindled reserves! I'm sure that sorting out my wings has burned up as many calories as running a Marathon would have. Why do you think you fell asleep in the first place?"
Her stomach decides to announce another earth-shattering rumble into the velvet night. Chloe sighs in defeat, takes a cookie and chews in bliss. He's right, they are good! Soft, tasty, aromatic! No hardened, burned little rocks.
When had her little girl, who is actually on her way of becoming a teen, learned to make cookies like that? Probably at Zoé's place, she muses, when Zoé's mum was out of hospital. The girls have probably baked them together while she was still doing research on her partner who turned out to be the Devil. She's so grateful for the friendship of the two girls!
"So, sorting out your wings burns calories in us humans? What does it make you then, a Divine gym? The Devil-sports playgrounds? A diet ingredient or a divine fat burner?"
"Well, we can agree on that I'm burning hot." Lucifer flashes her a toothy grin, delighted at her clumsy attempt at humor. "So I root for 'Divine fat burner' who likes to play games on a devilish playground. Especially if you will join me." He grins seductively.
Chloe rolls her eyes and huffs. "Oh come on, honestly! Is it true? Does sorting Angel wings burn calories?"
His grin morphs into a more genuine smile. "Yes, Detective, it's a fat burner indeed," he reminisces, "I mean, like, a lot! Linda… after fixing me, Linda had not only eaten the entire huge pizza we ordered, she also stole parts of mine, imagine that! And then she raided my fridge for all of the five differently flavoured Häagen-Dazs ice cream packs I had bought for Amenadiel. Linda has essentially set my ice cream stocks back to zero!" He sounds slightly offended but also a little bit proud of their therapist friend.
"So, chop, chop, restock your calories, Detective!" He cocks an eyebrow at her, looking strict, "Devil's orders!" Lucifer even infuses a bit of dark authority into his voice, without his former fear of her being afraid of him, she notes. That, more than everything else finally does the trick. It briefly flashes her mind that it may be fun to provoke him once in a while into being a bit more authoritative towards her - usually, he lets her call all the shorts!
He benevolently surveys Chloe as she empties the cookie box in record time, living up to her stomach's role-play as the big bad hungry wolf.
She grins at him, her mouth full of cookies. "You know what? This is excellent, Lucifer! It means I have to spent less time in the gym after a good meal then, right?"
"Ooooh, yes Detective, you're right! I mean no, not that you need to spend much time in the gym, anyway. But, what I mean is that I can cosset you and Beatrice with my cooking abilities to no end if you let me, and you cannot refrain from digging in by arguing calories! We can just have a nice wing-grooming session afterwards, right? Excellent indeed!"
Lucifer's joyous happy smile is infectious; she has to reciprocate it while shaking her head and rolling her eyes at his shenanigans whilst enjoying them.
Then he gets serious again, regarding her with an intense gaze. He clears his throat. "I dearly hope, Detective, that you know that I would have helped young Beatrice without a deal…?"
Chloe thinks about it. Maybe The Devil may not have helped her daughter without a deal. But Lucifer, her friend, would. Always. And make her little girl feel like the growing-up teen she is in the process by accepting something of a totally different value as a payment, like homemade cookies for a saved life or three.
She smiles and nods. "Yes, I know that you would have," she reassures him.
"Lovely!" he beams at her.
But then he hesitates, his smile fades and he regards her with gravity. "There is one thing, though, that I must inquire, Detective," Lucifer says, suddenly solemn. He sounds dark and serious, as if he's explaining a live-saving contract to her.
She frowns, looking into his large, unblinking black eyes. His authority is back, but this time, it is not playful. What the…?
"Did Beatrice… did she tell you the entire story? Of what the girls did and why Zoé was caught in the first place?" he asks quietly.
Chloe nods fiercely in response, a bit daunted by his sudden change from playful to… Devil. Unconsciously, she leans closer towards him for comfort. "Yes. Yes, she did. Trix…" Chloe swallows, remembering their long conversation. "She… she seemed years older, she's growing out of the shell of being my little girl so fast these days. I mean, she certainly was... when she finally told me the whole story," she responds, still shuddering when she remembered the danger her daughter and all the other kids had been in. "She was devastated and she cried a lot, but she did not let me comfort her until she had gotten everything off her chest. And she did not spare herself or try to justify her actions and decisions. And I felt miserable because she'd probably been more forthcoming if I hadn't been with Pierce." She spits out the name like a rotten bit of food. "It was… heart wrenching, for both of us. But also really good, cleansing, somehow," she explains quitely.
A tear runs down her cheek at the mere memory. She wipes it away angrily, then looks up in his eyes.
The Devil regards her unblinkingly and she's alarmed by his serious expression. Ancient eyes x-ray her.
Finally, the corners of his mouth curl upward, he blinks, nods and exhales deeply, morphing back into her friend Lucifer, just for a short moment.
"Good!" he exclaims, breaking the tension. "So it was cathartic as I had intended. You see, Detective, this was Beatrice's penance. To tell you everything," he explains and Chloe stills, bewildered and a little bit scared.
Lucifer continues in his ancient, severe voice. It seemed to reverberate around her with subsonic tones. "Your Off- Your daughter felt responsible for something truly evil for which only very little, if any, of the guilt could be placed upon her. It was, by all means, a well thought of trap of these criminals. I am not quite familiar with child-raising, as you well know, but even I understand that Beatrice fell for an elaborate scheme that was way beyond her imagination."
Chloe nods in agreement. "Yes, definitely," she confirms.
"When there is one thing that I am… intimately familiar with, even more than with the anatomy of the female body," Lucifer flashes her a grin which she immediately categorizes as an attempt for distracting her, "It is guilt, detective. Your daughter felt severely guilty. And by just telling her she was not, neither you nor me would have been able to alleviate her guilty self-perception, especially if we hadn't managed to free her friend in the end."
He sighs. "You see, Detective, she needed, or rather, she desired punishment. To be able to lay her guilt to rest. So, the punishment I imposed upon her was to tell you everything, without sparing herself," he explains. "Because that was what she feared most on top of losing her friend. That you would think lowly of her. You and… Marcus." He spits the name as if it's a dirty swear word. (Not that he has any problems with those!). "And Beatrice accepted, gave me her word. I am glad to hear that she obliged."
Chloe lets that sink in, flabbergasted.
"As I said, I am really no expert when it comes to children. Or teens, mind you." After a moment, he adds, "But I'm very good at handing out punishment." He regards her as if his last remark had been a question.
Her eyes go wide with the sudden epiphany.
"You also mean… punishment to lift someone's guilt…?" she asks in a small voice.
The age-old eyes of the Lord of Hell regard her, unblinking, but she sees some golden lights emerge in the ancient depths, dancing little sparkles, as if he's laughing with his eyes.
"...as long as the human who feels guilty is still alive, yes." The golden sparkles cease and the warm brown colour emerges.
"I punish the wicked because they deserve it, true. You might say that it was part of my original design, and it was definitely part of my… ah, job description in Hell. But I also punish to fulfil the desire of those who feel guilty to repay, Detective. Believe me when I say that I am good at it." His deep resonating voice in the quietness of the night sends shivers down Chloe's spine.
Not because she's afraid of him. No. Rather, because of all the things he's said to her, over their joint time with hunts for murderers and culprits, it gets an entirely different meaning, now that she knows who he is.
She remembers the sniper who had killed loved ones to leash out to their spouses, because his wife Cassandra had died from cancer. How Lucifer, despite his dishevelled state (and she needs to ask him what was going on with him then) had seen right through him: That the man had lashed out to seek punishment. Because he himself felt guilty, held himself accountable because had not been there for his wife. She remembers Lucifer's words, clear as day, directed at the sniper: "It's not vengeance you want, it's punishment. Now you've got it! Good for you!"
Knowing what she knows now… what did he mean? That the sniper now had a chance to escape Hell? By getting punishment on Earth? Even though he was a murderer? By… alleviating his guilt, by accepting his sentence and going to jail?
And what did all the "feeling guilty" stuff mean, for her daughter?
"Does… Beatrice feel better, now?" Lucifer finally asks softly, as if he's read her mind, one eyebrow raised inquiringly. "It certainly seemed so to me, when I had her on the phone this morning, before the funeral."
His "I need to know" hovers unspoken between them. Because he cares. The Devil cares. For her daughter. A small, insignificant human in his immortal lifespan. Warmth rises in her chest and she smiles at him.
"Yes, yes, she does, actually." She suddenly feels overwhelmed by his, what is it, exactly? Devilish thoughtfulness, perhaps? She feels tears sting behind her eyes and clears her throat. "And how do the cookies fit into the picture?"
"On top of feeling guilty, she wanted to offer me something for a deal since she was unsure if I would help her. To ensure my help before her friend was sold into human trafficking. Not that Beatrice knew exactly what kind of danger her friend was in. But she seemed to sense the gravity of it and she was desperate. Thus, I accepted her offer - on the plus side, it's a lovely weekly subscription of homemade Decker cookies!"
He grins with roguish joy, snatches the last cookie from the box and pops it into his mouth, "You see, I'd call that a very good deal!" he exclaims, cheerful Luciferness firmly back in place, mouthing around the food.
Chloe's stomach chooses this exact moment to announce loudly that it considered the cookies just the initial appetizer.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow and smirks. "My, my, detective! You really are starved! We need do do something about it! And in my Dad's name, do not waste your breath and deny it! You are obliged to be honest with me, remember?"
He grins, gets up and unceremoniously shrugs away his wings.
Their humming in her ears is immediately turned off, however, she can still smell their light faintly on him, now that she knows what light smells like.
"And since it is my fault, would you gracefully accompany me on a joint raiding tour to the nearest takeaway?" He extends his arm to her in a gentlemen's gesture with a slight bow.
Chloe sighs in fake desperation, shaking her head. "Well, since I have to be honest with you… yes, I could really use a bit of food," she confesses, locks her arm into the crook of his bent elbow.
They start walking towards the shoreline, with her closer to the swooshing waves, dipping her bare feet into the water, while Lucifer carries her boots in his free right hand.
"But where do you intend to find an open takeaway by now, Lucifer? I guess it is past midnight and they are all closed."
"It is and they are," he confirms. "But when have you ever seen me being stopped by locked doors? Especially when it comes to food?" Lucifer cocks his head to her side while they walk, looking smug.
"Lucifer, no B and E!" she scolds. Now it is his turn to roll his eyes and huff, for a change.
"It cannot be called that when we leave a wad of cash for whatever we take! Ok, fine, and I will close the door again when we leave, promise" he adds in response to her stern look. "Although I like open doors. And besides, this is a case of emergency, Detective, isn't it? You urgently need reserve-replenishing nourishment after your… our… wing encounter. And I happen to know just the place, all right-y? It's close by!"
Her stomach chooses this moment to loudly speak for itself. Lucifer grins, lets his eyes drop to her midriff and cocks an eyebrow. "How lovely for you to agree!" he responds to her traitor of a stomach.
They start walking in amiable silence. Then Chloe picks up her line of questions, the list in her pocket. She picks a question she thinks will not lead into murky territory.
"How strong are you, Lucifer?" she asks. "I've seen you push a grown man through a glass panel, dangle the fat murderer of Father Frank from the church wall after lifting him up with one hand - and I've seen how you held up Trixie by her legs with ease, high over your head, so that she could fix the shooting star…" she gulps, "...to our Christmas tree…." Her voice trails off. Maybe the territory is murky. "Anyway. My question is, how far can you go with your strength, what can you do?"
He scoffs. "Probably a lot more than what you thought when you still considered me delusional. And likely a bit less than you think me capable of now…" he chuckles, "in case you might try and fit me into the Marvel Universe, that is!" He straightens up to his full height, puffs his chest and preens a little.
"So, you're not Ironman, huh? Although you have the same level of narcissism?" she grins back. "Well, I'm disappointed!"
A devilish grin spreads slowly across his features as he fully turns towards her. It reminds her of a purring cat that licks its paw clean of whipped cream after deliberately stepping into it. He lets her boots drop into the sand. His eyes start to sparkle which tells her that she is in trouble. He spreads his arms wide, invitingly. "How about- I show you what I can do…?"
"...show me…?" she parrots in a small voice.
"Yes!" He's warming up to his idea whatever plan he has come up with. "Tell me, Detective, do you easily get nauseous when you ride on a roller coaster? And with roller coaster, I don't mean our current emotional state!" he quips, with a rare insight for a... well, Lucifer. She can see Linda's therapy hand in there.
Chloe chuckles, securing a strand of hair behind her ear. "No, I don't, actually. I love roller coasters!" she smiles. "Dan was always the one who got sick when he tried to ride with Trixie! Me - never!" She expects him to dwell on the fact that "the douche" has a weak stomach, but he's obviously focusing on his plan instead - oh, no! What has she gotten herself into, now?
"Very well, Detective, then let's do it!" He beams at her and extends his arms, eager to pursue his idea but also a bit hesitant, as if she's going to bolt the moment he touches her.
But his excitement gets the better of him this time.
"Do what?" she inquires.
"Well, the Devils' roller coaster, of course, Love! If you're up to it?"
If there is one thing she knows by now, it is that she can trust him with her life and, probably, more. Ok, whatever it is, she's going to do it.
She swallows and steps forward into his waiting arms. "Um, ok..? What... what are you going to…?"
Before she can finish her sentence, he scoops her up in his arms and throws her up into the air!
The force is stunning! She speeds up like a cannonball, as if she's jumped, tied to a bungee cord but upwards, in the wrong direction! She feels her stomach plunge and she whoops loudly, she loves it! YeahYeahYeah!
But then she reaches the highest point in her arch. Earth's gravity gets the better of her and for the fraction of a second, she is suspended in mid air. What now?
She starts to fall… she….
...suddenly, she's wrapped up in Lucifer's arms. In mid air! How…? She cannot help herself, she's grinning from ear to ear with exuberant joy!
Oh, this is fantastic!
She looks up into his broad smile, his dark eyes sparkling with golden joy at her surprised, excited face, her shining eyes. His own smile grows wide in response. She thinks he is more beautiful, more playful than she's ever seen him!
Or maybe it's just the adrenaline rushing through her veins?
After a second she notices how she's swaying in the rhythm of the steady beat of his mighty, sparkling, singing wings that hold them hovering in mid-air… how high, exactly?
She risks a glance downwards and shudders. Unbelievable!
They are probably a quarter of a mile above the ocean that stretches wide beneath her like a dark velvet table cloth. She cannot really guess the distance… usually, distance is a thing for her that is horizontal, not vertical!
Before she can start to feel scared, Lucifer pulls her closer into his embrace. She feels his lips on her hair. "Don't you worry, my love, you're safe in my arms…" he murmurs. She hears and feels the steady swoosh of his beating wings, his arms wrapped around her midriff and she knows it's all true. It's all true!
She snuggles her cheek briefly into his chest in response, then tips her head back to meet his eyes, still smiling like a loon. She cannot help herself, this is too good!
"Kiss me, Lucifer!" she demands. "Then do it again!"
His laughter is like a well of liquid silver. He gladly obliges.
Just as she's completely absorbed in their kiss, he suddenly let's go of her!
She plunges immediately, arms and legs flailing, suspended. "Too deep 2 plunge," she thinks, then, immediately, "What CRAP am I thinking?"
She falls, accelerates, the ocean surface approaches her rapidly to swallow her alive.
Just the second before the impact, she's scooped up again in his strong warm embrace, feels his wings beating steadily, holding them up just a few meters above the ocean surface.
She pants in excitement and glances down while her swooping stomach catches up. A dolphin leaps beneath her, splashing back into the ocean, followed by several members of the same pod, chatting excitedly with each other.
It's just… perfect! She feels alive like she's never had before! His soft brown eyes plunging into hers, the falling sensation still in her gut - she has to pull him towards her, ravish his lips, feel his stubble, taste his tongue, again… the combined addiction of adrenaline, pent-up emotions and Lucifer-closeness rushes through her veins like a powerful drug.
Aaaand, she's thrown upwards, again! Their cries of joy mix as he catches her, high up in the air.
They cannot help it, they play like children, the Devil and his Detective, out there over the deep blue sea.
They feel more alive than they have since… well, ever.