a/n: Hello, dear people! So, I did something stupid. I started a new job. And said new job is leaving me no time to write! Why? Whyyyyyyyyy? Updates will be slow in coming, but they will come! (And I promise to try to answer reviews, too!) Thank you all for sticking around with me!

Day 74

"It's a little early to be planning girls' night, don't you think?" Linda said with a gentle laugh. She moved her phone from her right ear to her left and sandwiched it between her ear and shoulder. "Yes, I know," she said as she rummaged through the files on her desk. "Yes, Chloe's schedule sucks for that. Ella's, too," she said with a nod. "I didn't mean early in the week, Maze; I meant early in the day." She laughed lightly again. "My coffee hasn't even cooled down enough to drink yet." Linda opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a pen. "Well, I am pretty booked for the week. Can we do Saturday night?" She lifted her eyes to the closed door of her office as a soft knock came from the other side. "Okay, Saturday it is." Linda glanced at the small clock on her desk. "I have to go; my first patient is early. Yes, we are still on for dinner tonight. See you then." As she pulled the phone from her ear and pressed a finger over the glass screen to end the call, the knock repeated with a bit more force. "Just a moment," she called gently. Humming lightly, she placed the files in the bottom drawer of her desk and stood from her chair. The knocking continued, this time incessant. "Please do not let this be a sign of a long day," she pleaded quietly as she crossed the floor. Flipping the deadbolt out of its locked position, she opened the door.

"I kissed the detective," Lucifer stated as he pushed past her into the office.

"Yep, long day," she mumbled as she closed the door. "You work rather quickly, don't you? It's been less than twenty-four hours, Lucifer."

"Right. Actually, I didn't start it. She kissed me." Linda sighed and motioned towards the sofa.

"Sit down," she started. "Talk to me."

"Detective Decker and I were…celebrating," he began as he sat in the middle of the sofa. "Celebrating our renewed partnership. Shared a few glasses of wine. And then some," he admitted under his breath. "I took her home, we said good-night and she kissed me."

"Hmm. And you kissed her back?" she asked, sitting to Lucifer's right.

"I did." He smiled sadly as his eyes dropped to the floor. "For a moment it was…it was like we were on the beach again. The feeling…the…"

"The butterflies?" Linda suggested.

"Yes."

"All those things you don't want to feel anymore."

"I do want to feel them. I just want to know that I'm feeling them because they're real, not because they're a product of my father's calculated bullshit."

"So you kissed. Did it go any farther?"

"No. She'd had, well, we both had quite a bit to drink and…" He shrugged gently. "I may be all for following one's desires, but I do not condone taking advantage. I left before things could go further."

"Think about what you just said." He frowned and tipped his head.

"I don't understand."

"You didn't stop things with Chloe because of your father's so-called manipulations," she started. "You stopped because…" She lifted her eyebrows as she expected him to finish the thought.

"Because I'm not an asshole?"

"Well, yes, in a way. Yes. But no, not exactly what I meant. You stopped because you still care for Chloe, you still want something between the two of you, but you don't want to do anything to jeopardize that possibility. Any more than you have already," she amended.

"I miss our partnership, our friendship," he said with a nod.

"You need to go slowly, Lucifer," she warned gently.

"Slowly?" He breathed an incredulous laugh. "First of all, the detective and I are not going anywhere. It was just a kiss, a little…drunken misadventure. Secondly, when we were headed somewhere, you told me going slowly was simply my way of stalling."

"Because it was."

"And just yesterday, you told me not to go anywhere at all!" He threw his hands in the air as he stood and walked towards the window. "I mean, make up your mind, Doctor."

"I'm not the one that needs to make the decisions, Lucifer. I'm here to walk you through your questions and your feelings so you can make the decisions. The right decisions."

"The right decisions," he scoffed quietly.

"Look, yesterday, I did not say not to go anywhere. I just want you to understand what you're facing. You both have feelings for one another, feelings neither of you are resolving. You're both throwing a lot of mixed signals." Linda stood and moved to Lucifer's side. "Everything changed after you went to Vegas, Lucifer. Whether you stick to your partnership, rebuild your friendship or pursue a more intimate path, you have a long way to go to regain Chloe's trust. Maybe," she started, gently placing a hand on his arm, "you and Chloe need to sit down and talk about what you both want. Really talk about it. And then if you decide to become involved romantically…"

"Go slowly," he finished.

"Yes."

"Well," he said, slipping his hands into his pants pockets, "as I said before, it was simply a drunken mishap. I do know I must earn her trust again, and I will do anything it takes to do so, but as far as any 'intimate paths'…" He shook his head. "That's an avenue closed to me, I'm afraid."

Lucifer

Chloe moved slowly through the small kitchen, eyes taking in the chaotic mess throughout the room. Every cabinet door was open. Boxes and cans of food, pots and pans, dishes and glasses littered the floor and the countertops, tossed from their respective shelves. A torn, brown paper bag lay in the middle of the mess, a spray of fresh vegetables and fruits around it. Stepping carefully around the items, Chloe made her way to a two-person table on the far end of the kitchen. Both chairs lay on their sides, and a clutter of papers covered the table and the floor.

"Looks like someone was a tad frustrated whilst putting away the groceries." Chloe nodded slowly as she turned around to greet her partner.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. Lucifer moved to her side and sifted through a few of the papers on the table. She turned again and peered down the short length of hallway leading to the living room. Several bloodied handprints smeared the walls and a significant trail of drops lead to a large puddle of blood a few feet in front of her. She reached behind her and gently tugged when her fingers caught Lucifer's shirtsleeve. He returned the papers he was reading to the pile and followed Chloe as she wandered through the hallway.

"Watch your step," she said. As she reached the opening at the far end of the hall, she found Ella, camera in hand, crouched over the body of a young woman, and Dan on the other end of the room. Chloe looked around as Dan carefully navigated the overturned furniture.

"The entire apartment is a mess," he stated as he reached the pair. "The killer was obviously looking for something. The victim is Donna Voight." Chloe stepped forward and picked up a broken picture frame from the floor. "Twenty-nine years old, runs a daycare a few miles from here." He pointed to the picture. "The guy is Alan, Donna's husband."

"Do we know where he is?" she asked.

"Hospital," he answered with a slight nod. "He walked in on the murder."

"Did he now?" Lucifer asked with sarcasm as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets. Dan nodded curtly.

"He's the one that called the police." The devil rolled his eyes and stepped between the two detectives. He moved across the room and stood over Ella as she documented the scene. "Anyway," Dan continued, "he's at the hospital because the perp turned on him and he has several deep gashes on his arms."

"Interesting," Lucifer said sarcastically. "Let me guess," he said as he turned towards the pair of detectives, "he didn't get a look at the murderer's face because the murderer was wearing a black ski mask."

"Um, yeah," Dan answered as he scowled.

"Lucifer," Chloe started slowly. "How did you…"

"Look at the evidence, Detective." He moved to the other side of the body. "Knife wounds," he said, pointing downwards. "Yet I don't see any defensive wounds on her hands or arms. Do you, Miss Lopez?"

"No, I do not," she answered from behind her camera.

"Which would suggest that Donna here may have known her assailant; allowed this person close enough for a surprise attack. Right, Miss Lopez?"

"Right, buddy."

"Lots and lots of knife wounds," he muttered as he looked at the body and shook his head. "This wasn't a random assault; this was personal. Right, Miss Lopez?"

"Two for two, dude."

"And the mess…" He sighed as he gestured through the air with both arms out to his sides. "I don't think the bad guy was looking for anything. I think the bad guy was pissed off."

"He may be right about that, too," Ella said as she stood. "I've counted twenty-eight knife wounds on the body just in a quick once-over while I've been taking pictures. I'm sure we'll find a lot more during the autopsy. It's overkill. Which," she started, looking at Lucifer, "does suggest a crime of passion. Well, not passion passion, 'cause this?" She gestured towards the body. "This is not passionate. At least not what I would think about when I hear the word passion." She smiled. "I imagine a nice, tall, good-looking man, muscly arms all wrapped around me and…" Her smile fell as she looked around the group. "TMI?"

"Little bit," Chloe answered with a nod.

"At any rate," Lucifer started, "I venture to say Alan came home, took out his anger on Donna and when that didn't sate him, he tore apart the house. Or he realized what he had done and did so to make this look like someone not him," he said with a shrug.

"And the wounds on his arm?" Dan asked.

"Self-inflicted," he answered. "Wat better way to deflect suspicion than to injure one's self?"

"You didn't see the cuts, Lucifer," Dan started. "They were pretty deep. I don't know that he could have done that to himself. At least not to that extent."

"Unless he was hopped up on adrenaline," Ella suggested. "It's a powerful, natural drug." Lucifer tipped his head and placed his hands in his pockets.

"I've heard worse theories on a lot more evidence," Dan offered after a moment.

"Me, too," Chloe agreed. "Call the hospital; we'll head down there right now."

"Got it," Dan answered.

"Come on, Lucifer; let's ask Alan some questions."

"As to prove me right? Absolutely." He smiled smugly and lifted a hand. "Lead the way, my dearest detective."

Lucifer

Throughout her career, Chloe had witnessed a gambit of habits people displayed while under her scrutiny. People who were guilty, people who were scared or in shock, people who were mourning. They bounced their legs; they played with rings and bracelets, toyed with necklaces and earrings. They hastily drummed their fingers, sometimes their fists, on the tabletop, and their breathing became erratic and labored. Their reveals were obvious.

Lucifer, however, was not as apparent. He didn't fiddle like everyone else. True, he was rather vocal when it came to expressing his displeasure; yet when something seriously weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he didn't quite know how to proceed, he remained quiet. He didn't say anything or give any clues about his silently contained concerns. There was only one discernible sign of his uneasiness, something Chloe had observed on very few occasions, and only when she had purposely looked for it, a soft and slow rhythmic tap of his index finger on his thigh. So when she slowed the car to pull into a parking space in the hospital's lot, discretely shifting her eyes to look in his direction, she was not surprised to see his right hand resting on top of his leg, his finger gently striking out a measured cadence as he stared through the passenger window.

Chloe wondered if anyone else had ever noticed this tick. In all the years Maze had known Lucifer, had she ever taken the time to observe the small things? During his therapy sessions with Linda, had she ever gained the opportunity to see him in that state of mind? Maze was, self-proclaimed, quite oblivious to emotions and Linda, well, she supposed Linda looked more for the mental ticks than the physical ones. No, Chloe decided; no one knew Lucifer's tells as she did.

Yet as far was what was troubling him, as far as what was on his mind, she didn't know. And trying to piece together Lucifer's concerns was difficult with her own worries over their kiss the previous night exploding into every thought she had. What had she done? What had she been thinking? She should never have given in to the little voice in the back of her head; the little voice that, oddly, sounded like Lucifer. The little voice that said, "Take what you desire." She should never have kissed him.

"That was, uh, quite a good detective moment, back there," Chloe started as she turned off the engine and pulled the key from the ignition.

"Why, thank you." Lucifer turned towards her and offered a gentle smile. "I know you don't think I pay attention during our cases, but I really do listen to you, Detective."

"I know," she said, returning his smile. His smile widened as he reached for the door handle.

"Then let's go catch ourselves a bad guy!" he said excitedly. Laughing softly, she shook her head as he leapt from the vehicle. The smile on her face didn't last long, though, as thoughts from the night before crept up again. She was the one who had given the ultimatum, friends and partners, or nothing. He had chosen friends and partners. And she had stripped away his decision, negated it with one small action. Chloe couldn't let the guilt hang over her head; couldn't let Lucifer think there were any more moments to be shared between them, regardless of how much she wanted them herself.

"Lucifer." He stopped and closed his eyes, waiting a brief moment after hearing the car door close before turning towards Chloe. She stood near the front of the car, leaning a leg into the side. Her eyes were down, focused on the keys in her hands. Her finger fidgeted with the small pieces of metal. "About last night…" Her words faded as she gently shook her head. He moved towards her and gently wrapped his fingers around her hands, stilling her movements.

"It can't happen again," he said quietly. "I know." He brought their hands to his chest, hooking a finger under her chin in the process. "Detective," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"It was my fault," she returned. "I'm sorry. We're good like this, Lucifer. Partners, friends."

"We are," he agreed. As he sat on the hood of the car, sighing softly, sadly he transferred both of her hands to his left hand and rested the lot on his leg. "I don't want to lose you," he said as he lifted his free hand to cup her cheek. "I would rather have this than…than nothing."

"Me, too." Lucifer offered a soft smile that quickly disappeared as his eyes dropped to his thumb as he traced the line of her mouth. Her lips parted slightly as she closed her eyes.

"We have to find a way to handle this."

"We will," he said with an assuring nod. "We will. Come here." He stood and pulled her arms until they were around his waist. "This is almost like the beginning of our partnership," he stated as his arms tightened around her body and his chin settled on the top of her head. "There's simply one difference between then and now." Chloe shifted, placing her chin on his chest as she looked up at him.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Well, in the beginning, I was the one trying to get you into bed. Now, it's all on you, Detective." Her cheeks reddened as he suggestively lifted an eyebrow. "All on you." Chloe buried her face in the fabric of Lucifer's shirt.

"Oh, I hate you," she muttered.

Lucifer

Lucifer's eyes narrowed as he studied the offensive item in his hands, the so-called "sandwich" Chloe had shared with him. His mouth moved slowly around the bite he had taken, his taste buds trying to decide if he truly was eating turkey, as she had suggested. Nearly choking on the flavor as he swallowed, he quickly set down the sandwich and reached across the table for the detective's plastic bottle of water. He sat back in the chair, slowly sipping the clear liquid as he watched Chloe. She had eaten nearly all of her half of the sandwich, had eaten a few potato chips from the single-serving bag that sat on the table between them. She quietly hummed a random string of notes as she looked through the financial reports Dan had collected for them.

Shifting slightly in the chair, he crossed his legs and rested his wrist over his lap, careful to let the condensation from the water bottle drip onto the floor and not onto his pant leg. He lifted his right hand, holding it in front of his chest as he slowly shuffled the bottle's top between his fingers. His selfless detective, he thought, working through her lunch hour, sacrificing her time and opportunity for a decent meal to read a bunch of boring reports. Sacrificing his opportunity for a decent meal, as well. With a soft sigh, he capped the bottle and reached for the sandwich.

"Another vending machine lunch," he muttered around a second bite.

"It's not from the vending machine," she said with a soft smile. "It's from home."

"Well, no offense, Detective, your sandwich making skills need some serious attention." She looked up from her papers as he took another bite.

"Trixie made it."

"Oh." He hummed and offered a weak smile as he swallowed. "That explains it." Chloe laughed gently and shook her head as she returned to the reports. "Are you certain I can't talk you into lunch out on the town?" he asked as he wiped the breadcrumbs from his lips.

"I'm sure. There's a lot to look at, Lucifer. Sure would be nice if you would offer your help instead of lunch," she mumbled purposely.

"Very well," he said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and pulled the report from Chloe's hands.

"That's mine," she stated. He motioned to the small bag of chip and the remainder of her food.

"Thought we were sharing."

"You know what to look for, right?"

"Do I know," he started with a scoff. "Of course I know." He made a great show of settling back into the chair, licking the tip of his index finger and flipping to the next page of the report.

"Your thoughts on the murderer were good," Chloe started. "Even though they were wrong." She smiled when he stuck out his tongue. Yes, he had been wrong. Alan had not murdered his wife, and he had been telling the truth about the attacker turning on him and slicing his arms.

"And for our trouble we get to look at all of this," he added with sarcastic glee.

"Yeah," she said as she pulled another report from the top of the pile to her left. "But at least Alan and his wife had some of the research done already. We should easily be able to pick up where they stopped."

"Embezzling from a day care," he muttered with a roll of his eyes. "I can't imagine the small amount of money available is worth the obnoxious amount of time a person would have to be around children." The silenced settled easily around them as they each turned their attention to their respective reports. Lucifer's attention did not stay on the numbers for long, however, wandering back to the detective after a very short couple of minutes. Thoughts of their kiss had plagued him all night, all morning, and had attacked with twice as much force after their awkward moment in the hospital's parking lot. Even after his talk with Linda, after hearing himself say the words aloud, he still couldn't escape the notions that floated through his mind.

It wasn't as though he never thought about previous companions, never mentally replayed a pleasurable span of time together. Never pondered what he was craving and who could fulfill those desires. Never imagined what could become of another round of coupling. Yet when he considered the two very brief intimate occasions he had shared with the detective, satisfied reminiscence didn't show, simply heart-shattering longing.

And, yes, he had enjoyed the physical connection. And, yes, he had looked forward to further exploration. That type of gratification, however, was not the priority he sought. He needed something more, something deeper than that. Something he knew only she could provide.

Love.

He could admit that to himself now, without thinking the notion an abomination of the beautiful word. He yearned for it, for a love pure and simple, a love he hadn't felt since long before he fell from Heaven. Yet with the good comparisons came the bad, for the love he knew the detective capable of bestowing was just as tainted by his father's touch as the love he had in Heaven.

Still, just a thought, a single tempting moment would be all he needed to run to her, to throw all ideas of manipulation and injustices aside. A single moment of taking her hand in his. A single moment of tucking her hair behind her ear. Of seeing her smile at him. Seeing her blue eyes brighten in his presence. Feeling those damn butterflies cloud his mind and block out all thoughts but those of her and—

"Rules, Detective," Lucifer suddenly blurted. "Perhaps we need rules."

"Um, okay," Chloe said with a nod. "Sure." She turned her eyes to him. "Quick question?"

"Mm?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Rules," he stated, "for us. To help define our…our partnership, our friendship. So last night doesn't…doesn't happen again." She nodded slowly.

"Okay. Well," she started before releasing a quiet breath. "We probably shouldn't drink anymore."

"Not drink?" he loudly questioned. "We're trying to create definition, Detective." He sat forward and dropped the report on the table. "Not turn ourselves into monks!" She laughed lightly.

"I mean when it's just you and me."

"Oh. So if I were to, say, throw a big ol' party at Lux?"

"Then we could drink."

"Splendid." He smiled widely, but only for a moment before sobering. "I suppose you and I should not be alone together otherwise. Except during cases, of course," he said, gesturing towards the reports on the table.

"No more celebrating wins in our cases."

"Alone with alcohol."

"Yes."

"Can we celebrate in other ways?" She hummed and tipped her head to the side.

"Not gonna lie; that sounds sketchy."

"Dinner," he said slowly. "I meant by having dinner. Somewhere public, of course." She nodded.

"But we meet there so we can leave in our own vehicles."

"Or Uber it."

"Right." She drummed her fingers on the table. "And, uh, no…no flirting."

"That goes for you, too, Detective."

"I do not flirt with you, Lucifer." He playfully narrowed his eyes.

"Are you certain about that?" She narrowed her eyes in return and leaned an arm on the table as she slid slightly towards him.

"Quite certain," she replied.

"Time will tell, won't it?" he asked, copying her movement.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that over the next few days you're going to find that our conversations will be extremely short and very limited to that of work." He leaned a little closer. "Because you'll not be able to get around not saying anything that isn't flirting with me."

"I'll let you continue to think that," she said with a smile.

"See?" he said, sitting back in his chair. "We haven't even officially agreed on the rules and you're already breaking them."

"What?" she laughed. "How was that flirting?"

"Trust me." He pretended to adjust the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. "It was."

"Whatever." Chloe slowly slid back to her place, raising an eyebrow suggestively as she moved.

"There! Right there!" He pointed an accusing finger in her direction. "You did it again!"

"On purpose this time."

"I'm sorry; isn't flirting usually done on purpose?"

"Huh. Yeah, I suppose."

"Mm. Thought as much." He sternly raised both eyebrows. "No flirting."

"Fine." She tipped her head to the side. "Okay, so no flirting. No drinking when it's just the two of us. No celebrating cases when it's just the two of us. Basically, no just the two of us, unless it's work-related."

"Right," he said slowly.

"Okay."

"Detective?" he started quietly. "Do you realize what we've done?"

"Yeah."

"We've basically put ourselves in supervised visitation."

"Yep."

"Brilliant," he muttered.