A/N: Okay... so this "finale" got to be longer than I had even imagined. There's this chapter and then another. No matter how long the next one is, I won't be splitting it. My dear friend Luni reminded me that something digestible was better, and I agreed. So here's a more digestible chapter for you! Enjoy!

There are song titles in bold and brackets in the text. I'll list the song and who it's by so you can try to find them on YouTube. It's linked on AO3 if you want to read it over there :) Enjoy!

1. Carousel by Failure Anthem

2. Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Smashing Pumpkins cover feat. Sam Tinnesz / Produced by Tommee Profitt

3. You Belong to Me by Cat Pierce

4. Glass Heart (feat. Sam Tinnesz) / Produced by Tommee Profitt

5. Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons

6. Paradise Lost by Hollywood Undead


Through the two-way glass in the observation room, Dan watched the other man skeptically, curiously. When Dispatch had given him the details, saying "found possible remains of Smith, Mazikeen", he had jumped right on it. He had told Ella, and she had refused to stay behind. Ella was one of the few that seemed to interest the bondswoman, and she would often talk with her after dropping off her latest bounty. Ella in all her good-heartedness and love for all, had seen her as a friend. Identifying her body and giving her the respect she deserved was the least she could do, she had pleaded.

He hadn't expected what he found. He surely hadn't expected to see him there. Alas, when he had opened the doors and saw a man on his knees, hands behind his head, he had been stunned. He typically had to ask for that sort of compliance, but as he stepped closer, he recognized him immediately. The use smug cockiness was wiped from his features and replaced with complete dread. Lucifer Morningstar, the man who had somehow wiggled his way into the lives of the women in his life, knelt before him, and Dan quickly trained his gun on him.

Turning back the tarp had felt like a punch in the gut. No, he hadn't been very friendly with her, but they were always professional, and Dan had immediately respected Maze from the moment she started bringing people in for them. She took absolutely no shit, and she was able to back up her tough demeanor, which, to be honest, was really sexy. She was fierce and beautiful, and the world would be worse without her, that's for sure.

Lucifer didn't say much in the car on the way to the station. He said nothing when they brought him to an interrogation room. He remained silent as Ella came in and wiped down his hands and anywhere else blood had been, bagging up the rags to put with evidence. She also took a DNA sample by cheek swab, because he had admitted to touching the bodily, if only briefly. Through the glass, he had watched Ella place a small, gloved hand over his, and he did nothing but close his eyes to the contact. She left, and Dan let him sit there for a while. Let it soak in. That usually gave people time to collect themselves. Realize their situation, and either panic or relax with that information. Lucifer appeared to be neither. He just looked broken. Something in Dan wanted to lash out, to question him cruelly, but he wasn't sure if he really deserved it.

Dan went into the interrogation room with nothing but a small notebook. They didn't have a file. They hadn't known anything was suspect about Maze's leave of absence. It was a fresh case, starting with a body and nothing else. He sat in the chair opposite from Lucifer, placed his notebook and pen down on the steel table and stared. Lucifer remained still and silent. It was not his first rodeo. It was not the first time he had been on this side of an interrogation table, and he was not intimidated by Dan at all.

"Remember, you're not under arrest right now, so anything you say is admissible in court," Dan stated, hoping that refreshing his memory would get him something for the case. "You understand?"

"Yeah," Lucifer replied, still not looking up, just staring at the corner of the table like it had killed his friend. He gave off the illusion of collected calmness, but his knee bouncing, just a barely noticeable movement, gave away the energy build-up in his body.

Dan stayed quiet for a few moments, deciding how he was going to approach this. From the brief interactions h had with Lucifer, he knew him to be challenging, a fucking asshole, but intelligent. He could play it safely, ask him basic questions, or he could go off the books, ask better questions that might not be the most professional. "Look, I'm not gonna sugar-coat this for you, we have nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing," he started, waiting for a reaction he was never going to get. "Can you tell me anything that could steer us in the direction to what might have happened?" Dan looked at him, not quite pleading, but sincere. "I mean, anything. The only thing we have to go on is the leave of absence she put in a couple days ago."

Lucifer licked his lips, taking a deep breath in and releasing it through his mouth. He swallowed thickly but remained silent. Stoic. Dan picked up his pen and started tapping it on the blank page of the notebook. Showing, bringing attention to the fact that there was nothing to go by besides a corpse.

"Look man," and Lucifer's eyes shot up, stared at Dan for a moment, his jaw ticking to one side, clenching like he wanted to say something and had bit his tongue. "Look," Dan restarted, holding up his hand in reassurance that he understood. "Maze was secretive, she never listed any family, and we have no way of knowing what was going on in her personal or professional life," he continued, trying to reach out, just trying to get anything. "I liked her, she was damn great at her job, and I'm just curious as to how you came across her body."

"She's my friend," Lucifer offered, a sad chuckle escaping his chest before correcting himself. "She was my friend. So you don't need to tell me about her."

"Great," Dan exclaimed, bringing both hands to the top of the table. "So had she said anything to you about a recent job? A tough bounty? An angry boyfriend?"

"No, none of that," Lucifer spat, screwing his face up in disgust. He pinched the bridge of his nose to help stave off an impending headache.

"How does a very capable woman end up like that after putting in a leave of absence, with her best friend having no fucking clue about anything?" Dan argue, hoping he could tap into that underlying anger the other man seemed to have.

"I don't know," Lucifer replied softly, hands falling down to the tops of his thighs in defeat. There was no explaining it. Plain and simple. He couldn't give anything without bringing up his family, and he needed the head-start of the few days to few weeks it would take to identify the other male DNA on her body. Even when they did, they wouldn't have a name, just a familial connection to Lucifer Morningstar.

"Help me out here! Something! Anything" Dan pleaded, eyes wide and eyebrows up, waiting for the answers to spill, for the information to flow out. Lucifer just stared at him, swallowing thickly as his eyes grew shiny and tears welled up at the rims of his lower lids. Nothing spilled; not from his lips nor his tongue. Dan was about to say something else when a knock at the door interrupted him, and he slowly got up from his chair, tossing the pen on the table, right by the still-blank notebook.

Once Lucifer was alone in the room, he let his eyes close and the few tears fall freely. With a shuddering breath, he wiped away the wetness from his cheeks, sniffing loudly. The worst part was that he couldn't offer any help. He couldn't tell them what happened to her, couldn't tell them who ended her life so brutally. He knew the answers, and he would never get anywhere if he gave them up. He wanted nothing more than to give Maze the justice she deserved, unfortunately that justice came across an ocean with another murder; nothing solid to produce for the papers, nothing to give her name peace.

Minutes and minutes went by, but he wasn't sure how many. No clock. Very admirable tactic for interrogation rooms. No way to tell time, no way to say how long they've actually been in there. Lucifer has used that form of sensation deprivation before, both for criminal and bedroom activities. He shifted in his seat, both chair and bones creaking from immobility. He swallowed again and realized how dry his mouth and throat were. He really wished for one of those annoyingly tiny complimentary water bottles that authorities handed out to those in distress. Apparently, Lucifer wasn't a distressed individual in custody. That's what he got for having the inability to let others see his emotions. He just looked cold and detached, undeserving of refreshment and comfort.

After another stretch of time, Dan re-entered the room, holding a few sheets of paper with handwriting on it. His expression was one of revulsion and contempt. Lucifer would have asked what the hell he could have done to piss in his pudding if his day had not already been so gutting. Before sitting, Dan slid the papers over to Lucifer haphazardly, nodding down at them for Lucifer to pick up and read. He grabbed the pages, and instantly recognized the handwriting. His gaze shot back up to Dan, who had just started sitting down in his seat slowly, incredulity written in his eyes.

"What's this?" Lucifer asked, halfway between desperately wanting to read the pages and being too terrified to look down.

Dan had the fucking gall to almost scoff, but he reigned it in. Chloe wasn't his wife anymore. And he definitely wasn't her keeper. "It's an alibi," he answered flatly, nodding again towards the pages. Ella called Chloe, and she provided an official statement for your alibi. I just need you to read and corroborate it, and sign, then you can leave." He flicked the pen towards Lucifer, letting some of the disgust towards him seep out. Dan read the statement. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what it meant.

Lucifer blinked a few times before looking down and reading the report written in delicate, flowing cursive. It was written very plainly, without must detail and just enough description to provide reasonable proof. It said they had spent the last 48 hours together, which wasn't entirely true. There were significant portions of time they were not together, but it seemed Chloe felt it necessary to write it as such. He had a sinking feeling that maybe she feared he might have something to do with the crime. Well, he did, but not in the way he hoped she didn't think he was.

"If there's anything that needs correcting, feel free to write it in the margins and add your initials below," Dan said, almost hopeful for a little less time they seemed to spend together. Lucifer shook his head very pointedly at Dan, picking up the pen without looking at it and clicking the point out. He looked down at the last page, to the blank line below Chloe's signature, and added his own. Signing their confession; their joined admittance. He clicked the pen's point back in and slid the statement back over to Dan. He sniffed loudly, his annoyance apparent as he motioned for Lucifer to get up. "Alright, let's go," he said quietly, turning away from Lucifer and walking towards the door. He waited for the taller man to get close before opening it and basically shoving him out. It was brighter out of the interrogation room than Lucifer expected, but her form was unmistakable. His breath caught with the uncertainty of what was to come next.


[Carousel]

It was suffocating the moment she had entered the car, gripping the steering wheel until her joints ached as he slowly slid himself into the passenger's seat, staring out through the windshield. She wanted to say something, but what could she say? His only friend was dead. The only person he was close to was gone, and by the looks of Ella and Dan, she did not leave the world peacefully. What could she say that would help at all? The last time she saw him had been horrible. They argued, not even having the energy to truly fight over anything. He had been obliterated by whatever he had taken, and she had been so hurt by the truths he finally unveiled that she hadn't cared.

It wasn't the time to dwell on that now. A broken man sat next to her. A man who had found the body of someone who was the closest thing to family he apparently had. Even she wasn't that bitter. Even she could allow the significance of the situation to bypass whatever bullshit they had going on. She just didn't know what to expect from him. Not that it mattered. She'd be there in any way he needed. As friend, as lover, as mentor, as kindred spirit.

Keys still in her lap, Chloe looked to her right. Lucifer sat there, nearly vibrating from trying to keep himself calm, and continued to stare out the window. Tentatively, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly, just a barely-there pressure. He jumped, nonetheless, followed by a sharp intake of air through his nose. His head snapped to the side, eyes wide and glassy as he looked at her in shock, as if he hadn't expected her to ever touch him again. His jaw clenched once, twice, and on the third time, she could see the tears welling in his eyes. He didn't reciprocate the touch, and when a single, rebellious tear fell to his cheek, her heart broke a little bit more.

She fought the urge to lean over and kiss him. Kiss the tears slowly spilling from his scrunched eyes. Tell him it would be okay, tell him she was there. Tell him he wasn't alone. But she couldn't. It was a lie she wasn't willing to bring him down with. Instead she remained silent, squeezing his leg before retreating back to the emotional safety of her side of the car. She cranked the ignition and pulled out of the precinct guest parking lot.

Lucifer tilted his head back against the headrest, collecting himself as Chloe gently drove through the afternoon traffic. He was building himself up, preparing for what was going to come next. He decided if he didn't start then, he would never do it. "I need to tell you some things," he said plainly, voice low and tired.

Chloe looked back and forth between him and the road, opening her mouth to convince him otherwise. Whatever needed to be said could wait, or so she though. He held up a hand, sighing to himself in a way someone would when about to do something they might regret. Chloe bit her lip, worrying the delicate skin between her teeth before zeroing in on the road ahead of her. Listening.

"I told you briefly about my family, but I didn't tell you why I left," he started, rubbing both hands down his thighs, needing to warm up his hands. "My family are criminals. The high-power elite kind, and I was part of that organization for as long as I can remember," he admitted, reciting his story for what seemed like the umpteenth time. "As I got older, the more responsibility I was given. I was an enforcer, of sorts. I kept clients and associates 'In-check'," he continued, grimacing at his own words. He paused letting that little bit of information sink it. Chloe had heard worse, but he didn't seem to be finished with his story.

"I've hurt a lot of people. I've scared them, threatened them and their families. I've done a lot of horrible shit, enough to make you never want to look me in the eyes again." She could hear the fear in his voice. The fear of being judged, being judged correctly. She was surprised, but not as much as she would have been. Lucifer always had given off an air of confidence and nonchalance that can only be obtained from someone used to power.

"Have you killed anyone?" she asked; a question that shouldn't have been brought up. Something she felt that she really needed to know.

"I don't think so," he replied honestly. She could respect that. He could have easily said 'no', but he didn't. "You see," he started, licking his lips and mulling over his thoughts. "My family is huge; made up of many biological and adopted children, all of whom are involved in 'the family business'." He made air quotes at the end to signal that he knew a crime syndicate was not an actual business. "There's a lot that led up to it, and I don't want to bore you with the details, so I'll keep it as concise as I can."

Chloe turned to look at him at that, her eyebrows knitting together as she waited for him to continue. She wished this conversation could wait until they got home. So she could look in his eyes as he spoke to her, but she understood him wanting to do it now. Wanting to tell her these things when she had a distraction, like driving. So that maybe it wouldn't hit as hard.

"I didn't leave over some moral obligation to do good. I didn't have a "coming to" moment where I realized that what I was doing was wrong," he continued, and she could feel his eyes on her, but she remained focused on the road. "If what happened hadn't have happened, I would most likely still be doing all of it."

"Your accident?" She asked quietly, referring to the short story of his scars that night, so long ago, at the campus pool. She was doing her best to remain calm and open-minded in this fucked-up situation. He was opening up, truly, for the first time, and she would not let herself close any door to his psyche that he kicked open.

Lucifer huffed, nodding his head, one pointer finger resting along his upper lip. From her peripheral, she could see his eyes were dark, red, shiny, and his stubble was a few days past his usual grooming. He didn't look any less irresistible, and that sickened her to realize how much his appearance played a role in their chemistry. She knew, however, by the way her stomach felt as if it were trying to melt a giant ball of ice, that wasn't the only reason she was drawn to him. His soul, the things that made Lucifer Lucifer were the sun to her Icarus, and she flew too close willingly.

"I thought that adding my own rules, trying my own hand at my Father's trade, might spice things up." He shifted in his seat, the tell-tale sign of entering uncomfortable territory, but their entire relationship had been uncomfortable territory, murky waters with no clear boundaries. Why stop at just an unethical relationship? Why not add more criminal fodder to their sexual fire? "There was a girl, and for a while, I thought I might have loved her," he paused after that, licking his lips audibly. Chloe turned her head, then, and nodded in understanding. She remembered what it was like to be young and so full of life, when any amount of affection and lust equated to love. When life held such sweet naiveté, even for those born into corruption.

Chloe turned on the last main road before they entered her neighborhood, and she could tell Lucifer recognized where they were. He rubbed at his temples, knowing that even with this uncomfortable conversation in the car, it was safe. Once they entered her home, Chloe would have the focus; all her attention could go into his words, and he would be remise to not be anxious about that. "What happened with her?"

"Shit went sideways, my father caught on to my antics, she left me for him, and he put out my death warrant," he answered calmly, if not coldly. There was buried resentment in his words, she could sense that, but she couldn't tell who he hated more, the girl or his father. "Anyways," he sighed, as if everything he had spilled had been mundane. "I was to be excommunicated from the family and its business. Condemned, but still at their mercy. That's what brought about the accident."

She turned into her neighborhood, the almost picture-perfect view seemed ridiculous for the severity of their circumstances, but life had always been funny that way for her. Ironically, it seemed that way for him, as well. Perfection on the outside, nothing but rooms full of familial clutter and decorated bad memories on the inside. There was so much more to be said, so much that she knew he had to be leaving out, but it seemed that enough had been said for the car ride. They rode the remaining few minutes in renewing silence. Gathering up their withered wits, preparing themselves for more torment past Chloe's doors.

Neither got out of the car once she pulled up in her driveway. They sat there for a few seconds, breathing, worrying their lips between their teeth. The beat of their hearts the only thing either of them could focus on. Chloe made the first move, getting out and hearing Lucifer follow her almost immediately. Once inside, he stood in the hallway as if he were a stranger there, and she took that as he either didn't feel welcome in her home, or that he wasn't comfortable being there. Not after what had been shared at his apartment. The small, wicked part of her liked that; the fact he could feel guilty for what he had done. The majority, the part of her that took precedence, felt sympathy. He was hurting, that much was clear, but she needed to know more. She had just lied on official police documentation. She, at the very least, needed to understand what she had risked.

She placed her keys and bag at the table by the door, and he just stood there, not quite still, but unmoving. He was staring off into nothing. Eyes unfocused, hazy, hair a mess. She could see dried blood in the creases of his hands, the grimy discoloration on the knees of his slacks. Strands of hair clumped together with a slightly lighter color substance than his hair. He was covered in the dried remains of his best friend's blood. It had seeped into his clothes and his pores, he could probably smell the metallic tinge, could feel the tackiness on his skin. He didn't need to keep talking, not just yet. What he needed was to get clean, rinse off the reminders, rinse away the heartache, and feel cared for. Taken care of. Loved.

[Bullet with Butterfly Wings]

Chloe reached out, slowly, placing her fingers in his palm, just getting a feel for his acceptance of the touch. He did jump, but his gaze shot over to her, face neutral but eyes questioning. Hopeful. She licked her lips, wetting the dry skin, and fully grasped his hand, large and warm in hers. Sticky and flaky, as if they had been wiped off and not washed. With the smallest tug, she led the way upstairs, and he followed her without pause. He wouldn't dare question her actions now. Not when it seemed she was giving him something when he didn't deserve anything. She led him through her bedroom and into the en suite. She pushes the door to, but doesn't close it, and she keeps a hold of his hand even as she turns the shower on.

He's was looking at her with that quizzical, pleading expression, like his mind couldn't make up if it was more confused that needing. Once the water was running and provided some solace from the deafening silence between them, she dropped his hand and brought both of hers up to his neck. His eyes fluttered closed and she started to work on the buttons of his shirt. One by one, slowly and carefully, she opened the shirt to reveal smooth, cool skin. Grief could do that to you; make you run cool and empty. Once she finished the last button, she moved to his rolled sleeves, carefully unrolling the material until they were wrinkled and loose along his forearms. She reached up and pushed the shirt from his shoulders, bringing it down his arms and letting it fall to a heap behind him.

Lucifer sucked a large breath in as his torso was exposed to the steaming air and under Chloe's eyes. He couldn't help it; her eyes on him always did things to him, and even like this, in a moment as horrific as the one now, he couldn't avoid what she did to him. What her touch and gaze did to him; made him both pliant and dominating. Like he couldn't wait to bend to her will in one moment and then take her apart from the inside in another. He looked down at her, her eyes so blue and inviting, as her fingers started pulling at his belt. He licked his lips, breathing steadily, hips shifting slightly as she pulled his belt free and quickly started working on his slacks. As she worked, he kicked out of his shoes and shoved them to the side with his foot.

With the slightest push, his trousers fell to his ankles, and he stepped out of them while bending down to take off his socks. Chloe took the smallest of steps back, just to give him enough room, and toed out of her shoes and socks before pulling her shirt off. Her jeans were next and she quickly wiggled out of those, all while staring directly into his eyes. His gaze never left from hers, even when she unclasped her bra and pushed her underwear off. He held her stare, and there was a longing behind the sadness in them. She grabbed his hand again, using the other to open the curtain and pulled him along with her. They turned, letting the back of his neck be hit by the spray of water from the shower head, cascading down his back and running in thin streams over his chest.

His hands by his sides, the water slowly trickling down his arms, the bottom of the shower turned pink, a rosy, watery hue over the white; a far more innocent look than the culprit. The morbid part of her brain, the part that was used to seeing blood and death and torment, liked to believe that the swirling pink was pretty because the woman it belonged to had been a good person, in her own way. For Lucifer's sake. When she tore her gaze from the slowly thinning marbling of water and blood, she looked up to find Lucifer staring directly at her. Incredulously, like he still couldn't believe he was in her shower with her, naked and vulnerable from the Maze-shaped hole in his chest.

He parted his lips, droplets of water misting away as he exhaled his held breath. Slowly, Chloe brought both hands up to cradle his face, stubbled cheeks between her palms. She raised up onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to his; warm, wet, and sweet. He whimpered into her mouth as he pulled away and he remained still, statuesque, in his shock. She could see wetness forming in his eyes that didn't belong to the water showering them, and that only forged her decision to go back to him even harder. Before fully sealing their lips together, she slid her tongue along his teeth, and he let her in with a thankful sigh.

She felt his hands circle her wrists, like he worried she would stop touching him. She swiped her thumbs over the tops of his cheeks, to verify she wasn't leaving, and kissed him deeper. It was penetrating in every sense imaginable. The taste and feel of another's mouth, the way a tongue sliding against your own was like a message from their soul; a wordless greeting and a slick plea for more. She trailed her hands down his neck, over the swell of his chest, along the ridges of his stomach and stopped at his hips. His own hands traveled separately, one digging into her damp hair, holding her face close, and the other squeezing at her side, fingers slotting into the spaces between her ribs.

There was still too much space between them, even in the tight confines of her shower, so she pressed her body against his, their hold on each other adjusting in sync to fit perfectly. They shared a quiet gasp as the feel of skin-on-skin; hard planes against soft curves, and with nothing else right in the world, they at least had that. Needing, no, wanting more, she slid her mouth along his jaw and down towards his neck, tongue lapping out along his thundering pulse. He tilted his head to the side with a soft groan, the hand in her hair squeezing just a little, while the other slid down to wrap his arm around her tapered waist.

She could feel the quickly hardening length of his cock against her hip, growing up towards her stomach, pressing into the slightly softer skin there. His hips push into that feeling involuntarily, and that forces surprised gasp above her head. She needed more of that, more of those sounds, and he didn't seem any better off. Desperately, fitfully, she took a hand away from his skin and started searching for the tap blindly. He sought her mouth, their kiss suddenly heated as she found the metal and turned the water off. It was starting to turn cool anyway. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to reach his mouth and he swiped his arm out to push the curtain back. Before she could try to pull away to get out, he reached down and lifted her up, shifting one arm up to wrap around her middle, the other hand holding her up against the back of her thigh.

It was flawless, his step out of the shower with her in his arms. Every step towards the bed was smooth and efficient without feeling hurried. It was as if he was putting all of himself into the moment, pouring every ounce of his soul into her mouth, filling her lungs with passion and desperation until she was blissfully drowning, bits of her own soul trickling into his mouth when her lungs had overfilled. He laid her out, shifting her body farther up the bed with his arm under her back as he followed, his hips never disengaging from hers. They were desperate to feel something, but for two wholly different reasons. Chloe wanted the touch, to remember a time when it was thrilling and simple, something wrong and exciting. The forbidden fruit. The something before it became false and deceptive. Lucifer…Lucifer just needed something else to focus on. Something he could do without the use of his brain. An action he was good at and was able to emotionally distance himself from. He couldn't do that with Chloe, however, but the emotions he felt with Chloe helped drip warmth into the icy depth of his heart. It was like he could imagine feeling something other than hate again.

The air was filled with their gasps and sighs, and they took their time. Mapping out the body of the other, going over quickly learned lines and edges, tasting the decadence once again. Lucifer slotted one of his thighs between hers, tilting to his side to cradle her form against his chest. His hips worked minutely, just the barely detectable, involuntary motions of a body working for what it wanted. Chloe's back arched, her head tilting back, exposing her neck to his hungry lips. His mouth and chin trailed along the delicate skin as if he were trying to ingrain her scent into his senses as well as giver her his. She reached down between them and wrapped a dry hand around his hard cock, squeezing the smooth-but-rigid flesh at the base. He grunted softly, hips snapping forward against her touch as his hands moved up to cup her face, gentle but adamant.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out his sudden apology. "I'm so sorry." His eyes closed, wetness threatening to slip from his lids, as he tilted his face down, unable to face her.

"Shhh," she soothed, releasing her hold on his member and bringing her own hands up to his face, so they were both framing the face of their poor decisions and hasty lust. "Just forget. Everything. Just be here, with me."

Her words were the permission he needed to let go. To drop the thoughts and guilt plaguing his mind and just let go. It was all he needed to here. To be there, with her, to let everything else fade into the mist of uncertainty, for him to wander back into once he left the blanket security of Chloe and her aura. He leaned forward, pressing her firmly onto her back on the bed, laying himself over her, shielding her from the nightmares behind him. He wore his mistakes and guilt like the scars on his back, each jagged line a reminder of what his existence has caused, and he was never happier that she couldn't see it to be with him like this.

He was no less needy, but his actions were less reserved, less cautious. His tongue tasted every inch of her mouth, her lips, her neck and chest. His hips slid against hers, bones knocking when they collided, skin sinking into the other where soft. He could feel the beginnings of her slick wetness against his cock resting next to the crease of her thigh. Although he could think of nothing better than sinking into that wet heat, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't taste her. If this were the last time.

Trailing kisses down her skin, dusting her torso in silent goodbyes, he spread her thighs with his hands, massaging the soft swell of skin and muscle before sealing his lips over her sex. It always surprised him whenever he did this; just how her taste and feel of her against his lips was more intoxicating than any liquor ever could be. Her moans were just as inebriating, and he loved these kind. The ones that weren't loud and full of lust, but ones more quiet, surprised, the ones that sounded just as gone as he felt. He could listen to those sounds for the rest of his life, play her the right way, care and maintain day-in-day-out, just to keep hearing those gasps. When his mouth felt coated and thick with her honeyed arousal, he kissed his way back up until her hands could his face and pulled him into a deep kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in, rubbing his throbbing cock along slit with a high-pitched whine. He could never hold out on her, not when she sounded like that.

[You Belong to Me]

It took nothing but a quick shift of their hips, each tilting in their respective directions to get the angle right. He slid into the tight warmth languidly, enjoying the feel of her muscles fluttering, constricting and releasing, as she adjusted to the welcomed intrusion. They stared into each other's eyes, mouths open, breath shared, as their bodies became one at a single point of connection. With one hand on the back of her neck, holding her head in a position so he could watch every facial expression she made, the other grasped at her arms, sliding down skin until he locked their hands and pressed them to the side of the bed. Her free arm circled his neck, fingers carding through his hair, nails scraping his scalp. Brown and blue were swallowed by black, swimming in a sea of arousal; physical and emotional necessity.

They stayed like that for far longer than they ever had, just enjoying the sensation of filling and being filled. He shuddered; a familiar sensation that was never really different from person to person, but the way he felt about the person changed everything. Looking into her eyes, he could see it for himself, a concept he had never put much thought it, not since Eve all those years ago. This was stronger than that had been, he had no doubt about that. Eve had never made him feel like he could both conquer the world and be eaten alive, had never made him want to give everything and take so much. He started moving, long, slow thrusts; more rocking his body into hers, taking her along with the slide of it, than thrusting and fucking. It was all more than just fucking, and that was a thought that neither wanted to focus on. Just the emotional and physical itch being scratched. The rest was something they couldn't admit to themselves yet.

He squeezed her hand, back bowing so he could lick along her neck and chest. She arched a little to give him more skin to suckle at, her mind reeling in the numbing pleasure of it all. He was so good at this, so good at using his body to play hers like a finely tuned instrument. He could throw his all into it and his heart could come out unscathed, but she was not as lucky. She knew this would change things, she knew it and refused to dwell. That was a problem for future Chloe to deal with. The Chloe writhing in the sheets with Lucifer had plenty of distractions from her own thoughts. She could feel an orgasm forming; his mouth had brought her so close, and then sliding inside of her had made her nearly burst, but his slow speed kept her at bay. But he was good, so fucking good, and he angled his hips just right, from learning her body, and his cock pressed against that spot inside her that made her toes curl and legs twitch. He was right there, as well, no doubt holding off to feel her cum around him, suck him in deeper, so he could release his tension as far away from his self as possible.

No words had been spoken since she told him to forget; nothing needed to be said. Her mouth opening wider, her breaths coming faster and broken, her hand in his hair tugging at the strands as she gripped his waste with her legs tighter, pulling him closer. He quickened at her tells, going faster, deeper, harder, but not less passionate. They made twin sounds, groans and gasps, as they climbed the peak, Chloe just a little farther ahead than him. She came almost silently, a small whimper escaping her lungs before all the air was blown out and her body seized up. She closed her eyes so hard she saw white, and she could just barely here his chanting in approval before a final grunt, his body stilling for a split-second before his hips pumped into her and his cock throbbed along with her walls, just out of synch, like the echoed thumps of a heartbeat. They panted against one another, chests heaving and air damp between them. The black slowly subsided out of brown and blue, returning to normal, returning to chaotic reality. He licked his lips before kissing her again, slowly, breathlessly, deeply. Chloe wrapped both arms around his neck as his softening cock slipped out of her and he fell to the side. She went with him, turning so they were face to face, legs intertwined, wrapped in each other and their own sheer cocoon. Safe from the threatening mess that waited for them outside of the doors.

00oo00oo00

They got under the covers once the sweat on their skin started to cool and they were no longer warm from lingering shower heat and exertion. Chloe left Lucifer in bed, much to his chagrin, so she could place his clothes in the washing machine, since he would remain gloriously naked since she had nothing he could wear. His face had gone stony at that point, and she was almost wondering if he didn't want the last bit of Maze washed away, but he wasn't that neurotically sentimental, and he nodded for her to take them. She had slipped into an oversized t-shirt and sensible underwear before trotting out with an armful of clothes, stained by old blood and trauma.

When she returned to the bedroom, she found him laying where she had left him, picking at his bottom lip in deep thought. He noticed her almost immediately, and pulled back the covers, a plea masquerading as an invitation, for her to get back in bed. She hoped in with a smile, snuggling into the body-warm sheets, staving off the slight chill her bare legs had started working on.

"Hey, Lucifer?" she asked, grabbing his attention. His eyes shot up to hers, and his lips wore a small smile on one corner. "I, I'm, needing to ask a question that you might not want to answer." She finished her statement and the small smile fell from his lips, but he didn't appear mad or upset, more confused than anything. "And if you can't answer, or just don't want to… that's okay. For now."

"Okay…?" he stated, his voice getting higher at the end made it sound like a question, and his brows knitted together, but he didn't move away from her, not even the slightest amount.

Chloe stared at him for a few more seconds, just trying to memorize his features before she asked her question. Before she hurt him and he stormed out. "Do you know who killed Maze?" The question was singular, but gave way to so many implications. Do you know what happened? How were you involved? How did you know where to find her? It broke her heart to see the way his face fell, to see how shocked he was to hear that question from her, but still, he didn't move away.

"Yes," he answered, not even pretending to say it quietly, like he wasn't sure. He was absolutely sure he knew who did it. There was no other reason, and no one else would have been able to get close enough to hurt her. Maze was very good at her job, but she became near-sighted whenever anything had to do with Lucifer. Something he would never forgive himself for.

Chloe let his answer sink in. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but that confirmation wasn't in the realm of impossibility. After all, Lucifer being the one to find her wasn't coincidental; it was purposeful. It had to be. It wasn't like he found her in her apartment. He found her in a nondescript location, where she had been tied up for days. "Are you going to do something about it?"

Without letting his eyes wonder from her gaze, he took a breath, and even he could feel the hate flaring up; warmth engulfing his eye sockets. "Yes." After she swallowed, Chloe opened her mouth to speak, but Lucifer lifted a hand, cupping the side of her face and pressing his thumb against her lips, shaking his head slightly. "Please, don't ask my anything else," he pleaded, soaking in the soft and sharp curves of her face in the golden light. "Let's just have this, us, for a while." What he left out was the little while longer, the until we can't have this.

Chloe nodded; she could understand. He didn't like lying, and he definitely didn't want to lie to her then, and he definitely didn't want to tell her everything. Part of her hated that, part of her hated the cowardice of it, but the other part of her understood. He really and truly didn't owe her an explanation. Not really. One would have been normal to give, expected, even. But what had ever been normal between them? From what he had admitted to her in the car, Lucifer was not the ordinary playboy Grad-student. He had a past longer than most people twice his age, he had sins behind him that no person as young as he had been should have to bear. If he needed some secrets, she could afford him that.

They spent the next few hours in bed. Chloe had switched his clothes to the dryer after placing a call for delivery. The fact that a diner close by did deliveries was something that made her want to pray to a god she didn't believe in. Surely a higher power had some influence in that diner establishing a delivery route. Surely. They ate burgers and fries in her bed, Lucifer still magnificently naked, lower body wrapped in a sheet while his torso was wonderfully displayed for her. They kissed, laughed, and had a mini food-fight that turned into an oral escapade on both their parts. They cleaned up and actually showered, with soap and shampoo, and Chloe's conditioner that Lucifer pretended to despise. They got back in bed, had sex again, the same way they had earlier. Hand in hand, mouth to mouth and skin, connected as one, but Chloe was over him this time.

[Glass Heart]

His hands gripped her hips, pushed and pulled her just right as she gyrated over him. He sat up, posting on a hand behind his back, and sucked on her nipples, switching sides once she had mewled enough to disturb her neighbors. He held her close as she came, and even closer when he followed soon after. They fell asleep pressed together, naked and sated. Lucifer draped an arm over her waist, the other beneath her pillow so her head could rest by his bicep. He was warm and solid behind her, and she was soft and comforting in front of him. They both slept more peacefully than two people in their positions should have. It gave Lucifer a few hours of reprieve from all of the shit going on, from all the pain and guilt he had swimming in his head and chest, from the physical pull towards Chloe, to the rational push his mind kept giving him. Telling him to leave her alone, she didn't deserve to be brought down by him. Too late, really. He felt something for her he hadn't felt in so long. Something he never believed he would feel. The worst part about it was he couldn't explore it. He couldn't try it out and see what could come of it. He had something to do. To finish.

Chloe never felt him leave the bed or kiss her temple as a single tear fell from his cheek into her hair. She never heard him get his clothes from the dryer, clean and crisp as if they hadn't seen blood and heartache. She wouldn't notice he had used her desk to write a note for her that he would leave on the kitchen island. She never heard his shuddering breath and he let himself out of her house, out of her life, and wandered out into the cool dark, where his thoughts would be for the foreseeable future.

00oo00oo00

Outside, the late night/early morning was cool and dark, made the ice in his soul rejoice for the comfort. He walked a good distance away from Chloe's house, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention her way. Once he was a few streets down and closer to the main road, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. One he didn't think he would have to call again.

On the fifth ring she answered. "Lucifer?" her sleepy voice whispered through the phone. He could hear the sound of her sheets moving as she probably sat up from her slumber. "Why are you calling me?"

"I need a favor, well, a few, actually, and then we'll be even. Completely, Charlotte. You'll owe me nothing and I'll owe you nothing. All forgotten and forgiven." He let that sink in. He figured she wouldn't deny him the favor, she did call him about Gabriel, and for that, she would be eternally grateful. Maze was found still in decent shape. He knows exactly what would have happened to her body if she had sat there for weeks, or months, before being found.

"What do you need?" She asked plainly, her voice disinterested, but the fact she acknowledged his offer at all was good news.

"Can you come pick me up? My car is still at the harbor. I'll talk to you then," he said, shoving his free hand into his pocket. He was remise to find he had no cigarettes on him, he could really use the distraction at that point.

"Where are you?" Charlotte asked, and he heard more rustling through the phone. She was probably getting up to get dressed, but that was as far as he let his mind wander. He gave her the street name and the neighborhood he was in, and if she recognized the area, she didn't say anything. She told him she'd been there and then hung up. Lucifer stood where he was for a while, leaning up against a STOP sign. He didn't let himself thing too deeply about anything. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions and feelings, and thinking about either of them was bound to drive him mad. Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to Charlotte, a request, really, and pocketed it. He didn't want to see her reply in case it wasn't in his favor.

Charlotte rolled up in her BMW roughly half an hour later, rolling her eyes as she threw the pack of cigarettes at him before he started walking towards the passenger side of her car. "You woke me up to pick your ass up and grab you fucking cigarettes? Are you serious?"

"Wonderful seeing you, too, fuck-buddy," Lucifer jabbed, face falling flat as he started to unwrap the pack. There was silence as Charlotte turned around and left he quiet neighborhood. He told her his address, not bothering with his car. It's not like he would need it. He pulled out two cigarettes and gave her one, he hastily patted at his pockets, realizing he didn't have a lighter, and then one was tossed to him from Charlotte's side of the car. Lucifer sighed in relief, placed both in his mouth to light them and then handed one to Charlotte. She hesitated before taking it, but then she took a long, slow drag that looked to be a religious experience to her. Lucifer chuckled, understanding the feeling, and cracked his window to let most of the fumes out.

"So seriously, why am I picking you up from Chloe's neighborhood to take you back to your place?" So it appeared Charlotte knew exactly where he had been.

"Because," he started, drawling out the word just to be a little shit. "I have to leave the country and take care of some business back home." He stared out the window and could see her face turn towards him in the reflection.

[Broken Crown]

"I heard about Maze," Charlotte said, somehow unrelated but completely related to his own statement. "Is that why you're going back to England? To go after your brother?"

"One of a few reasons, yes," he answered. Charlotte knew most of everything. He didn't have to be weary with his words. It's not like he really cared about what she thought.

"So, you just needed a ride? That's all you need from me?"

Oh, she was good, Lucifer thought, shaking his head at his own ignorance. "No, I'm going to need you to help me set up a way to keep both mine and Maze's apartments how they are, no other occupants. I'll set up a wire transfer to send money for the rent, but I'll need your wonderfully barely-legal assistance in getting that set up for me." He smiled at her before taking a drag on the cigarette. Charlotte's was growing quite the impressing ash tail before she tipped it out of the window.

"I can do that," she said with all the confidence of someone who knew how to get shit done.

"And I'll need a ride to the airport after I pack," he added, and she did nothing but lift her gaze, move her head as if weighing her options.

"Then we're even?"

"Then you might never have to see my handsome face or skillful dick ever again," he assured her, smirking as she rolled her eyes at him. It was easy to fall into a rhythm of banter with Charlotte. She was like him in a way; never taking anything too seriously, and never letting her emotions get in the way.

[Paradise Lost]

They rode the rest of the ride to his apartment in comfortable silence. Charlotte parked in front of his building and he got out to walk up the stairs one last time before going back to the god-awful country from which he came. Once in his apartment, he went straight to his closet and grabbed a duffle he would check and a backpack he would use as his carry-on. He packed four days' worth of clothes, knowing he would get more once he established himself in England, as well as his toiletries, a pair of shoes, and a blazer. In his carry-on, he packed a book, headphones, chargers, laptop, and a notebook. He would need to start planning and strategizing now. He had a plan to ask one of his siblings for help, but that was either going to work or it wasn't. He needed to be prepared for both outcomes.

Walking down the hall to Maze's apartment was harder than he imagined it would be. He let himself in to the place that had not yet become stale with vacancy. He dropped both bags by the door; he only needed to grab two things from here, and then he would leave, but he had something he had to do first. He walked over to the kitchen, found her favorite bottle of tequila on top of the fridge and grabbed two shot glasses. He put the glasses down side by side and poured out two shots. He lifted his, toasting the air, and knocked it back with a hiss. It was strong, just like Maze enjoyed it, and it burned like hell.

"Amicus est unus animus in duobus corporibus," he recited, a statement from Aristotle that Maze would have gagged at before smiling at him, calling him a dork or something. He leaves her glass on the counter, a drink waiting for her in the afterlife, and went about finding the two object he wouldn't leave for this mission without. Of all places, he found the twin curved blades in her underwear drawer, where she kept all her fancy things for special occasions. He placed them into his duffle that would be checked so he could actually get them to where they needed to be. He took a final look at the life his friend wouldn't get to come back to and left, locking her door, leaving the last pieces of her sealed away from anyone else that could try to harm her.

He got back in Charlotte's car and they were off to the airport in more silence. It was welcomed. He didn't feel like talking after that. He had a final cigarette as they neared the airport and he placed the pack in his backpack to be had as soon as he landed. Charlotte pulled up to the ticketing drop off just as the sun was beginning to rise in the sky, signaling a new day.

"You were right, you know," Lucifer started, looking over to the woman who clearly had no idea what to say to that. "You're no worse than I am, and people like us don't get happy endings," he said, giving her a sad smile. She returned his sad smile, reaching out to place her hand on his arm. He could see that she wasn't a bad person, just someone who got involved in hard decisions and complex situations. Someone who wanted everything and was willing to do whatever to get it. He understood that. Lucifer leaned over and gave her a quick peck to the corner of her mouth before grabbing his bags and getting out of the car. He didn't look back and she didn't look in his direction as she pulled out into the traffic of other people dropping someone off like baggage, to go be a problem or a solution somewhere else. Charlotte would do what he asked, she felt she owed him that much, and then she would be done with that entire fucking family, and she would focus on hers. Whatever Lucifer had planned was way outside of her jurisdiction, and she couldn't help but fear the fire she saw in his eye when he said he had to take care of something. She knew what that meant, and he looked more than capable.


A/N: The Latin phrase Lucifer said in Maze's apartment loosly translates to "a friend is one soul in two bodies". It is, indeed, a statement by Aristotle. I hope you liked another chapter, with yet another to come. It turns out that having a chapter be 30+k long would have been ridiculous. No matter the length of the next, it'll be the final. It has to be this time! Haha. Until then! xoxo