"What's this?"
The smell of pancakes wafting through the air greeted Chloe as she made her way into the kitchen, a smile on her face when she saw Lucifer busily working away , the Devil practically dancing as he whirled between the stove and the counter. He turned to her with a dazzling grin, one that she couldn't help but return, her heart still overflowing with happiness, both from last night and everything that came afterwards. Waking up next to him that morning felt like a dream, but this, this was reality. This was her future. Their future. Together. "I thought it was about time you finally let me finish cooking you breakfast," he said, as he deftly flipped a pancake in the air.
As if on cue, her stomach growled at the thought of tasting his cooking again. It felt like a lifetime ago since she first came downstairs to find Lucifer in her kitchen, the omelette he made that day just as delicious as his pancakes smelled now, even if it was cold by the time she actually got around to eating it. Now, she hoped to come downstairs to find Lucifer like this every day for the rest of her life.
Watching him like this, so content in her home, the morning sun highlighting his every feature, she at last understood what everyone else felt when they looked at him. That pull. The longing to be near him, to touch him, to have him, in any way he was willing to give. And he was always willing. But for her, with her, it was different. For as much as she wanted him, he wanted her just as much in return. He was the south to her north, the two of them inexorably drawn together, time and time again. Whether through fate or circumstance, she didn't know, and she really didn't care.
Because this... this love, this connection, this partnership… it was theirs, and theirs alone. It wasn't a gift, it was a reward, and it was well earned. After everything they'd been through, they deserved this happiness.
They deserved each other.
Silently, she padded across the floor and snuck her arms around his waist before resting her head between his shoulder blades. "Good morning again," she said, giving him a small squeeze that in no way matched up to the amount of affection she was feeling for him in that moment. With a low chuckle, he put down the pan he was holding and slowly turned in her arms. She looked up at him just as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Good morning, Detective," he replied, a kind of contentment in his eyes she didn't think she'd ever seen before. Unable to resist, she rose a little on her tiptoes, just enough to kiss him lightly. Wrapping his arms around her in return, he tried to pull her closer and deepen the kiss, but she shook her head, smiling against his lips. He pulled away from her with an adorable frown, but when she glanced pointedly at Trixie's door, understanding dawned on his face.
"Ah, the urchin, I see. Will she be joining us for breakfast?"
Chloe snorted a laugh. He really didn't know anything about how things worked on Christmas day, did he? "You might have to hold off on that," she informed him, as she let go just enough as she could dart past him and grab a spare strawberry from the chopping board. "Presents before breakfast, always. It won't take her long to get through them though, we try not to buy her too—"
Whatever she was about to say next vanished from her mind completely as she looked over at the Christmas tree. The modest pile of presents she'd left there last night were still there, but it was now completely dwarfed by the veritable mountain of gifts carefully arranged beside it. Her mouth hanging open, she turned back to Lucifer with half a mind to ask him if Santa actually did exist.
And then she saw the grin on his face.
"Lucifer…" Her eyes narrowed as she stepped back into his space again, causing his grin to falter slightly. "Please don't tell me you bought everything Trixie told that grotto Santa she wanted."
His hands lifted into the air, palms facing outwards as he backed away from her, until his legs hit the stove and he could go no further. "Of course not, Detective!" he said, somewhat nervously. "You told me not to, remember?"
As if that had ever stopped him before. "Then why, exactly," she asked, fixing him with a glare she normally saved for the interview room, "does my living room look like you brought the entire grotto here with you?"
Slowly, he edged his way around the island, until it became a barrier between them. "You said I couldn't buy her everything on the list!" he said, his voice rising higher in pitch by the second. "And I didn't!"
Despite the fact she knew he didn't lie, she couldn't resist needling him anyway. "Oh really? Then what didn't you buy? Because it sure looks like a lot from where I'm standing."
His wide grin returned. "It does, doesn't it?" Before she could say anything further though, he blinked, and with a quick shake of his head, the smile was gone. He sighed, as if revealing this information was some big inconvenience to him. "Your offspring requested trainers."
Chloe frowned; first at the mention of whatever "trainers" were, before she remembered that meant sneakers in Lucifer's mind, for some inexplicable reason. The accent she could understand—and what an accent it was—but the vocabulary? What was that all about? Was she destined to spend the rest of her life with someone who insisted on referring to dumpsters as "wheelie bins"?
Sneakers though, that didn't seem so bad. Knowing her partner however, he could easily be about to insist that the only thing to grace Trixie's feet from now on would be red-soled Loubutins.
Having noticed her confusion, Lucifer's eyes widened in abject horror as he went on to explain, "Flashing trainers, Detective. I mean, the mere thought of it! Obviously I realised that even someone as fashion-challenged as you wouldn't permit her to wear such monstrosities, and so off the list it went."
He looked strangely proud of himself, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. She decided to ignore it for now though, instead asking, "And…?"
Now it was his turn to be confused. "And what?"
"What else didn't you buy?"
It shouldn't have surprised her, really, when his mouth dropped open at her question and nothing further came out of it. He didn't need to speak though, not when his words from the Christmas fair were already echoing through her mind. "I shall refrain from purchasing everything from the list, you have my word."
Everything. He'd said everything. She closed her eyes for a moment, internally scolding herself for not realising the inevitable outcome of that. "You got her everything except the trainers, didn't you?" she said, fighting the urge to bury her head in her hands. This wasn't his fault, after all. He simply didn't know any better.
He eyed her warily before adjusting his cuffs, in that way he always did when preparing himself to say something she wasn't going to like. "Detective, you specified that I was only to refrai—"
"I know what I said, Lucifer."
She didn't mean it as a chastisement, but by the way his shoulders slumped, to him it obviously came across that way. It was times like these that she wasn't sure on what to do. She knew he meant well, he always did, but if he was going to be in their lives now, then he needed to learn that spending a whole bunch of money on gifts… that wasn't what you needed to do to be loved.
As if he'd somehow managed to read her mind, he continued, "I can return them, of course, if you wish. No doubt I will lose the urchin's favor, but…" He looked lost as to what to say next, as though, after last night, the consequences of upsetting her daughter had only just become clear to him. Which meant, Chloe had to make something clear of her own.
"Lucifer, Trixie loves you. She loved you from the moment she met you, and that's never changed. It will never change. Family, remember? I know that means something different to you after all that you've been through… but to us, it means love. Unconditional love. Trixie won't love you any less whether you buy her one present or a thousand."
"That means I can buy her a thousand then?" he said, his tone quite serious, but the way his mouth curled up at the corner gave away the fact he was joking.
Chloe smiled smugly in return. "Only if you want a thousand thank you hugs." She laughed as he physically shuddered. He might be insistent on keeping up the pretense, but they both knew he enjoyed those hugs more than he would ever be willing to admit.
Lucifer glanced over at the Christmas tree. "Speaking of presents, Detective…" His hand slipped down to hers, their fingers lacing together. Gently, he tugged her in the direction of the living room, where he'd already reinstated the sofas while she was sleeping. Unfortunately though, before they could get there, her monkey's door slid open, and a shriek shattered their peaceful morning.
"Is it present time?" Trixie asked excitedly, her bright eyes brimming with anticipation. She dashed into the living room to join them, but when she saw the piles of presents there, she skidded to a halt. "Are all these for me?!"
Next to her, Chloe felt Lucifer wince as the pitch of her daughter's voice rose by several decibels. She gave his hand a squeeze, and when he glanced down at her, she smiled at him encouragingly. "Ready for your first Christmas morning?" she said, unsurprised at the apprehension she saw on his face. But when he let go of her hand to put an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side, she felt him relax.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, and with that, it was time for Christmas to truly begin.
…
The morning passed quickly; a whirlwind of presents and stockings and brightly patterned wrapping paper that seemed to cover every inch of the apartment by the time her monkey was done. Luckily before Dan arrived Chloe had at least managed to hide away some of Lucifer's more expensive gifts in Trixie's room. It didn't look like Dan had a problem with their new-found relationship, but the last thing she wanted was for them to get off on the wrong foot when it came to Trixie. Dan was just a cop like her, and neither of them were ever going to be able to match up to the scope Lucifer had when it came to buying presents. It was one of the reasons she was going to have to find a way to temper his enthusiasm.
Not that Trixie was disappointed in anything she got. Presents were presents, and no matter the cost, once Christmas was over the novelty had the potential to wear off as soon as it was replaced by something shiny and new. The thought made Chloe reach for the small box she currently had hidden in her pocket. Old worries rose, doubts that she'd had about a relationship with Lucifer for years now. What if he replaced her with something shiny and new eventually? After all, he complained about things being "boring" more than her ten year old ever had. And he was billions of years old. She, however, was a cop with a child. Her life, celestial issues aside, was the very definition of routine. School drop off, work, school pick up, dinner, homework, television, and bed. On repeat, for the next eight years. How long would it be until it all became too mundane for him?
But then she looked over at the breakfast table, where Lucifer and Trixie were busy pouring over the instructions to the Lego set he'd bought her. Their heads bowed together, she could just about hear Lucifer asking questions, while Trixie tried to explain why exactly they had to fit so many pieces together that wouldn't even be seen by the time they finished. She had his full attention, and he dutifully nodded along when appropriate, occasionally arguing with her over the things he deemed, "Absolutely bloody ridiculous."
And that was when she realised. He wasn't bored, because this was all new to him. For the first time in his long life, he had a family that loved him no matter what, who would always be there, who would never abandon him. Nights spent playing board games, watching movies while cuddled on the sofa, eating together around a table… they were all things he enjoyed, because they were all things he'd never experienced before. Just like how police work had been for him in the beginning. Yes, he would sometimes complain it was boring even now, but he still stayed.
Because he stayed for her. He would always stay for her.
Her worries having now evaporated like smoke, she moved to join them at the table, easily slotting in beside Dan, who had been relegated to sorting all the pieces out into colourful piles. She joined him in his laborious task, and he gave her a grateful smile. Together they fell into a companionable silence as they listened to her monkey and Lucifer bicker. That was until her daughter turned her attention from Lucifer to her mother and then back again, her brow furrowed. "Did you and Mommy have a sleepover last night?" she asked innocently, and Chloe froze.
"Trixie—" She and Dan spoke at the same time, but neither of them were fast enough to beat Lucifer.
"How many hours of sleep does a 'sleepover' require, exactly, urchin?"
If anything, that just made Trixie's eyebrows knit together even further. "I don't know," she said, and Chloe could almost see her counting through the various times she'd had a friend over to stay over to stay, the pair of them giggling in her room long past their bedtime. "Four, maybe?"
Chloe had to fight the rising heat on her face as Lucifer looked at her with a sinful grin. "Then no, spawn, we did not have a sleepover."
"Oh, okay," her daughter said with a shrug, before going back to start sourcing the next brick. No sooner had Chloe started to breathe a sigh of relief though, than Lucifer spoke again.
"But we did—"
"Trixie!" Dan interjected hurriedly, his voice loud enough to thankfully drown out whatever inappropriate thing Lucifer was about to say. "How about we head down to the beach, huh?" He looked at Chloe, his eyes wide and pleading, and she nodded imperceptibly. "Monkey, do you want to go fetch your new wetsuit?"
One look at the grin on Trixie's face and the answer was clear. Her building project was forgotten in an instant as she raced into her bedroom, and it wasn't long before the sound of the majority of her present haul hitting the floor could be heard, as she rifled through her gifts searching for the suit. Dan had been taking Trixie paddle boarding for years now, but it was only recently that she'd finally gotten the hang of standing up on it. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Dan's gift of a surfboard and wetsuit was her favourite this year, much to Lucifer's disappointment.
"We'll get started on lunch," Chloe assured Dan as she began to tidy away the surface of the table, knowing he was probably feeling guilty for abandoning them to it. He nodded, looking relieved, before heading into Trixie's room to help her. Truth be told, she actually didn't mind having a break for a couple of hours. Christmas day was a lot, and it would be nice to spend a bit of time just her and Lucifer before the madness took off again.
Taking care to keep the already sorted pieces in their respective piles, she moved the bricks over to the side, where they would stay out of the way until later. Lucifer followed suit, standing up and carrying the part-constructed toy over to the bookshelf as though it were the most fragile thing in the world. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. Who would have ever thought that the man she met four years ago would be here with them right now, willingly spending time with her daughter and about to help her cook Christmas dinner? Certainly not her, and definitely not him.
Once the Lego was safely secured, Lucifer joined her in the kitchen, his jacket swiftly discarded to the side as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. Reaching into a nearby drawer, she retrieved the apron she had come to think of as his, and tossed it in his direction, where he snatched it out of the air with a grin. Without saying a word, he moved into her personal space, a finger pointed at his chest where the slogan beckoned her to "Kiss the cook". A fond smile spread across her face as she leaned up to do just that, reveling in the way his breath caught, as if he didn't expect her to actually do it.
After a few seconds, she pulled away, heat rising to her face as he chased her lips. She backed up against the counter, knowing without a doubt he would follow. As soon as he came within reach, she curled a finger under his apron strap, fully intending to yank him towards her. Before she could though, a pointed cough interrupted them, and she turned her head to find Dan standing awkwardly outside of Trixie's bedroom, her little girl beaming up at them as though she were opening a Christmas present all over again.
"Er… the beach then," Dan said, averting his eyes. Chloe glanced at Lucifer, who still hadn't moved, looking down at her with an unmistakable heat in his eyes, regardless of who was in the room with them. Not-so-subtly, she elbowed him, trying to put some space between them. But it was like trying to move a rock. A rock who immediately snaked a hand around her shoulders, a smirk on his face as he waved in Dan's direction.
"Off you pop then," he said jovilly. "And don't hurry back!"
She saw Dan mutter something under his breath before he picked up Trixie's surfboard and walked over to the patio, where the path down to the beach lay. Trixie bounded after him, clearly thrilled by the prospect of getting in the water. And, Chloe highly suspected, by all the chores she knew she was about to avoid. "Bye, Mom! Bye, Lucifer!" she called out behind her, not pausing so much as to even look back for a second. The door closed behind them both, and Chloe turned back to Lucifer with an exasperated sigh.
"Now, where were we?" he said, wasting no time in moving to kiss her again. She placed a firm hand on his chest however, stopping him in his tracks.
"We," she said, as she gestured to the chopping board and knives laid out on the counter, "were about to start cooking dinner." Twisting out of his grasp, she quickly grabbed an apron of her own, slipping it over her head before he could start trying to remove any clothes from her instead. Lucifer responded with a completely overdramatic pout, then moved in behind her to tie the strings. "If you stop distracting me, that is," she muttered, and she felt his hands still at her back.
"My dear Detective," he murmured, as he brushed the hair away from her shoulder, making room for him to duck his head down against hers. She could feel his warm breath drifting across her neck as he continued, "I think you'll find it was you distracting me."
A shiver ran through her at his closeness. "I was just doing what the apron told me to," she said breathlessly, fighting the urge to give in. The last thing she needed was for her daughter and her ex-husband to return and find the two of them in bed, with no food prepared.
He chuckled. "Always the good detective, following the rules." The hands that had been busy fiddling with the back of her apon slid around her waist, and she gasped as he pulled her flush against him. "Remind me to get a much more explicit apron for next year."
Next year.
She smiled widely at his words, her teeth biting down her bottom lip as she did so. Barely together a day, and he was already making plans for their future. Looking back, she didn't know how she'd ever struggled with how she felt about him. He was just so damn easy to love.
Unable to stop herself, she tilted her head back, just enough as she could kiss him. Slowly, she pivoted in his arms, then placed a finger on his lips before he could suggest anything that would further weaken her resolve. "There won't be a next year"—his eyes widened—"if the surfers come home and there's nothing to eat. So let's get on with it, yeah?"
He nodded behind her finger, but not before giving it a quick nip. She laughed as she wiped it on her apron, shaking her head as she went to wash her hands. The tap had barely finished running before she heard the sound of vegetables being chopped. Having already readied the meat the day before, she slid it into the oven, closing the door with a bump of her hip. Thankfully, after all the work the dinner party had taken, they'd decided to keep it simple today. A lot of what they were eating would be leftovers, but still, she wanted to get the prep over and done with.
Partly because, with Lucifer in the kitchen, only his Father knew how long it could take.
Surprisingly though, her Devil behaved, and it wasn't long until they were wiping down the counters and loading the dishwasher. After the day before, and all the time they'd spent together on the lead up to today, they worked together like a well oiled machine, their partnership more in sync than it had ever been. By the time she dropped the last knife into the cutlery tray, Lucifer was already standing there waiting with a bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other, the crook of his elbow held out for her to loop her arm through as he led her to the sofa.
Her tiredness from the past few days suddenly caught up with her, and she flopped down onto the cushions with a sigh that soon turned into a yawn. Lucifer sat down beside her, and she took the glass of wine he offered with a grateful smile. His arm fell around her shoulders, and her head fell back as she automatically relaxed into him. It amazed her, really, how quickly they'd become so comfortable around each other, how natural it all seemed. Before, every touch was significant, a moment she would store away in her mind, memories that never failed to bring a smile to her face when she thought of him.
Now, his touch was no less precious, but it felt more… sure. Certain in a way it never had before. She didn't need to hold on to it, to lock it away in her heart lest she lose it, lose him. Now, she had no doubt in her mind that he wasn't going anywhere. He was hers now, and she was his. It had taken them far too long to get here, but now that they had, she had no intention of ever letting him go. And judging by the way he was holding her, his thumb stroking the side of her neck, nose nuzzled into her hair, he felt much the same way.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's presence. Once her wine glass was empty, Lucifer plucked it from her fingers and placed it on the coffee table, before looking at her with a somewhat mischievous smile. "You know, there is one thing we haven't done, Detective," he said, his fingers idly tracing along the outside of her arm as he sat upright again.
She laughed and leaned into his touch. "I think we did plenty of that last night."
His smile was the very definition of wicked as he waggled his eyebrows at her. "That wasn't what I was referring to, although I do like the way your mind works."
Pointedly, he looked towards the Christmas tree, which was now barren underneath with the exception of two small packages. They hadn't had a chance to open them earlier in amongst the chaos that came along with Christmas morning, and Chloe had been forced to file it away in her mind as an activity for after her daughter had gone to bed. But that was before they had the apartment to themselves, and before she had a Devil looking down at her with an infectious excitement, a silent question in his eyes as he waited for her response.
She nodded, and he flashed her a grin that was all teeth before fetching the two gifts faster than she could blink. He swallowed heavily as he handed her a box wrapped all in black, topped with an elegantly tied red bow. His fingers tapped restlessly against his leg as he waited for her to open it, but with a small shake of her head, she placed it down on the sofa beside her. "You first," she said, as she took hold of his hand and pressed her gift to him into it. The wrapping paper was nowhere near as neat, Trixie having insisted on 'helping' with it, but as her daughter played a key role in approving the gift, Chloe had been more than happy to let her be involved.
Lucifer opened his mouth to argue, but she kissed whatever protest he was about to make away. She grasped his other hand as she pulled away, and placed that on her gift as well. "It is your first Christmas, after all."
The look he gave her was almost giddy. Just like the night before, he carefully peeled off the sticky tape haphazardly securing the paper together, before smoothing it out and laying it flat on the table next to their wine glasses. He ran his finger across the top of the rectangular red box, as though somehow he could guess what was inside through touch alone. Chloe held her breath as his fingers hovered over the opening, suddenly feeling anxious about the choice she'd made. Would he think it was too much? Too human a gift, too sentimental? Or worse, what if he didn't understand the meaning behind it at all? What if he thought it was stupid?
But it was too late to take it back. He opened the box, and she waited for his reaction, her heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest as she watched him retrieve what was inside, turning it over in his fingers as he examined it. And then, her worst fears came true.
He laughed.
The hurt she felt lashed through her like a physical blow. Something must have shown on her face however, because in the next moment, Lucifer stopped laughing, and his eyes widened in horror. "No, no, darling," he said as he reached for her, "you don't under—"
"It's fine!" she blurted out, reeling away from his touch. "I should have known better, I—" She froze as he lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist. It was such a shock that she could do nothing but stare at him, her breathing heavy and strained.
"Chloe," he implored, and it was enough to calm her, if only slightly. The next words out of his mouth however, she didn't expect at all. "Open your present."
There was a petulant part of her that wanted to deny him. Did he seriously think that whatever was in there was going to make up for him laughing at her gift to him? Yes, she knew there was no way it could possibly be as expensive as whatever he'd purchased, but she thought it would mean something to him, in the same way it did for her. Instead, he'd made her feel like a fool.
But he was still looking at her, in that way he did when he desperately wanted her to do something he wasn't sure she would. In that way she always found impossible to deny.
And so she blinked back the tears she could feel forming, and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest as she pulled at the red ribbon. She wasn't nearly as careful as Lucifer as she tore off the paper, not even stopping to admire the velvet covered box, so desperate was she just to get this over with so she could drown her sorrows for a while before her daughter returned home. With shaking fingers, she opened the box…
And instantly, all the hurt she felt drained away completely as she saw what was in there. Her hand flew to her mouth, first in disbelief, but then to catch the laughter that spilled out of her mouth. She saw Lucifer sigh in relief, and with her free hand, she threaded her fingers through his, feeling ashamed for ever doubting him. "Do you see now?" he asked quietly, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly as she nodded. After a moment, he released her, and in very much the same way he had done, she picked up her gift, clasping it in her fingers tightly.
In very much the same way, because in her hand lay a key, almost identical to the one she'd just given him.
A tender smile crept over her face as she held the key up to the light, the sun catching the golden metal and making it gleam. Unlike hers, there was no engraving, but there was a keyring attached. It, too, was made of gold, and there on the surface were the words, "I'll never lock you out again."
"Is this—?" she said quietly, and he nodded.
"For the elevator." He shifted nervously on the sofa, purposefully avoiding her gaze. "I don't ever intend on hiding myself away again like that… but if I do… I want you to be the one to find me."
"Oh, Lucifer," she breathed, as her hand rose to cup his cheek, "thank you."
She wasn't just thanking him for the present. Those days where he'd shut himself off from everyone and everything, she counted them as some of the worst of her life. Especially knowing it was her fault. This though, this was a promise, his own way of assuring her that he wanted her with him always.
He turned his head to press a kiss against her palm. "It should be me thanking you, Detective," he said quietly, the key in his hand jingling slightly as he turned it over. "This is—"
Too much. Everything. More than I could have hoped for.
These were all the things she heard him say without words. Words that, now, she realised she never needed him to say. But there was something she had to tell him, something she knew he definitely needed to hear.
"I mean it."
His eyes snapped to hers, and she could see both the disbelief that what she was saying could be true and the desperate hope that it was. "We both do," she continued, nodding at the silver Devil emoji attached to his key, the part of his gift Trixie had insisted on adding.
"Ah," he said in understanding, "the urchin, I suppose?"
"You can't blame her," she replied, nudging him slightly. "You're the one who signs off every text message that way."
She waited for him to start grumbling again about having his copyright claim denied, and that this being the only way he could own what was rightfully his… but he didn't. Instead, he continued to run his finger over the engraving, as though he could mark it in his skin as permanently as she had upon his key.
The key to her apartment. A key he didn't need, but one he was welcome to. Because he was always welcome. Which was exactly what she had written on there, to remind him during those times when he needed it.
"Great minds think alike, I suppose," he said with a soft chuckle, as he picked up the penthouse key as well, and in a rare act of sentimentality she knew he would never admit to doing, joined them together. The love she felt for him in that moment was so strong that there was no fighting what she wanted to happen next.
"Oh?" she said, as casually as she could manage, given the heat that was running through her body. "What am I thinking now then?"
He looked at her curiously. "That you wish I'd purchased you as many presents as your offspring?" he ventured, and she could see that, despite how well he'd managed to hide it, the Devil had been just as anxious about his gift to her as she was with hers for him.
"Nope," she replied, popping the 'p'. "I was thinking that Dan and Trixie won't be back for a while yet, and that dinner is as ready as it's going to be…"
Much to her surprise, it took him longer than she thought to get the message. When he did though, the response was instantaneous. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he slid closer. "I see," he said, his voice low and wanting. "It's time for my second present then?"
She leaned forward until she could feel his breath ghosting across her mouth. Still, she waited until she could feel his heartbeat pick up under the hand she slowly ran up his chest, until the point where his body began to tremble, the tension of holding himself back almost too much to bear. And that was the moment she took that last step, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "Shut up, Lucifer."
And with that, she shot up off the sofa and ran, her laughter dissolving into squeals as he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs to her bedroom, where she proceeded to show him just how welcome he was.
...
Hours later, after dinner had come and gone and the evening had started to set in, Lucifer had come to the firm conclusion that Christmas Day was one of the strangest experiences he'd ever had. Which, considering the length of his life, was certainly saying something. Time passed by in a blur; the hours spent playing games and sitting in front of the television seemed to take forever, and yet the day itself went by in no time at all.
He wondered if it was worth it. The days spent decorating and the marathon long preparation of food, never mind the hours of deliberation over buying presents and then the tediousness of wrapping them. But as he looked down at the sleeping child next to him, her head tucked against his side, arm slung around his waist… for once, he understood. Because Christmas—once you took the stories about his so-called half brother out of it—was about desire. Not the desires of the spawn, per se, plentiful and ambitious as they were. No, today was about the Detective's desire. Her desire to make the day special, to ensure that every single person who entered her home felt that holiday joy humans seemed to strive for.
All her hard work, all their hard work, it was rewarded with smiles, laughter, and above all else, love. His Detective's selflessness had never shown more than in the past few weeks. And most importantly, she'd succeeded. Not just with her offspring, but with him as well. He'd never felt this good before, every moment he spent with her bringing with it a wave of comfort and peace. Something that, until now, he had never quite known how much he craved. Waking up in her arms... those hidden touches and stolen kisses... the quiet companionship between the two of them as they cooked together, cleaned together, and eventually, rested together. He couldn't get enough of it.
Which was why he also couldn't ever imagine moving from this spot. The Detective was curled up next to him, her body a comforting line of warmth against his shirt as she snuggled as close as she could possibly get. For the last hour she'd been snoring softly, occasionally letting out a snort so loud that it was a testament to just how tired the spawn was that she didn't awaken. It hadn't taken long for the urchin to insist on watching yet another Christmas movie after Daniel left, and the Detective had agreed before he could even think of protesting. Now that he could see just how exhausted she was, he could clearly see why.
Not that he wasn't weary himself, which was something he definitely didn't understand. His body felt heavy, lethargic in the strangest way. If he were honest with himself, the full, weighty feeling wasn't that much of a mystery; he'd never been one to deny his own desires, but even he could see now that there was indeed a limit to how much pie, sweets and cookies a celestial could consume in one day.
The latter though? It was perplexing indeed. Yes, the day had involved a few amorous activities, but the rest of it had been nothing more than eating and sitting, with very little else involved. There was nothing he could identify that should have resulted in such fatigue. The only explanation he had was his vulnerability around the Detective, however that had never affected him to such a degree before. And for so little reason. Then again, this was the longest time they had spent in each other's presence since she discovered the truth of what he was, since he regained his Devil face and lost his wings. Perhaps it was something to do with that.
It all felt like such a long time ago. The hurt, the loneliness, the guilt that had consumed him for months. Guilt for scaring her, for turning her world upside down, and for destroying her faith, both in him and their partnership. But that was over now. She accepted him. All of him. She wasn't keeping him around because she pitied him, no, she wanted him there. And he didn't need to protect her from the monster inside him anymore. She knew who he was, what he was, and for some inexplicable reason, she loved him anyway. Not despite his Devil side, but because of it. Because for every piece of darkness inside him, there was just as much light. A light he had forgotten. A light he never stopped reaching for.
Just like the character he was currently staring at on the television screen.
Despite his objections as the spawn searched for another DVD, he couldn't deny that almost from the moment she hit play, he was enthralled. Here was a king who was tired of his life, weary of the screams and the weight of his crown, filled with a longing he couldn't understand. The Detective may have insisted this was a film more suited to Halloween, but to him, it couldn't be more fitting. For he too had spent most of his life in the shadows, and yet here he was, experiencing Christmas for the first time, the way it was meant to be. And just like the creature before him, he found it fascinating. Wondrous, even.
He watched as the pumpkin king strove to understand the light, to capture it, to make it his, to turn himself into something he was not. And he also watched as he failed, as he fell, as his dream was ripped away. For darkness was never destined to overcome the light. But, to his surprise, this wasn't the end. Sadness turned to celebration, and in turn, that celebration became something else entirely.
Acceptance of himself.
And as the snow began to fall in this land of horrors, he saw it at last. Just like a flame would always spawn shadow, nothing in this world was ever truly dark or light. They were meant to co-exist, two threads entwined to create a whole. And there was nothing wrong with that.
Just like there was nothing wrong with him.
His gaze drifted over to the Christmas tree, where the devilish angel facsimile of himself still adorned the top. Maybe I can be both, he'd whispered to himself that day, and for the first time, he felt like it was possible. He was the Devil, yes, but he'd never truly stopped being an angel, no matter how much he may have told himself otherwise. Even the loss of his wings couldn't change that.
And if the most important people in his life, knowing who he was, could welcome him into theirs... if they could believe in him, then shouldn't he do the same? Shouldn't he at least try to accept the possibility that the Detective was right? That he did, in fact, deserve this? Even the thought of it felt inconceivable, that after all these months of waiting, wanting, hoping that one day she would be his, that everything they had together was real…
Could it be he got his wish?
As the credits began to roll, the now familiar music briefly distracted him from his thoughts. Slowly, he reached for the remote, taking care not to move too suddenly and falter in his current designated role as a pillow. Once the television switched to black, he found himself captivated by the reflection of the three of them together on the screen, softly illuminated in the dying firelight. They looked… happy. Like this was the way they were meant to be.
Family, the Detective had said. He was family. They were his family.
And finally, he felt like he could be worthy of that.
The last embers of the fire had begun to fade, causing him to briefly consider whether he should relocate the Detective and her offspring to their respective beds. As soon as he went to do so however, he was met by two practically in sync grumbles. Accepting defeat, he resumed his previous position, allowing himself to relax into the sofa as shadows started to reclaim the room once more. The only illumination that remained were the twinkling fairy lights adorning the tree, their glow reminding him of the stars. It was with that image that he closed his eyes, a small smile on his face as he rejoiced in the sense of, at long last, feeling at peace. Feeling whole.
He drifted off with the two people he loved most in the world wrapped in his arms, safe in the knowledge that those two people who loved him just as much in return.
...
It wasn't until morning that he began to stir. The sunlight that crept in through the windows was at just the right angle to land on his face, its gentle warmth beckoning him to leave that place between waking up and dreaming, a place that he was in no way ready to emerge from.
He groaned softly as he attempted to turn his body away from the light, prompting a muffled protest from his left. For a moment, he considered dragging the Detective into his lap and bringing her with him, in an effort to also rescue her from the unwanted intrusion into their morning slumber. But he could still feel the child lying on the other side of him, and at the risk of crushing her, he reluctantly abandoned the idea. Still, it didn't stop him from enjoying his partner's embrace, and so he drew her nearer, reaching across for her hand as he did so. Even in sleep, her fingers entwined with his, and he heard her make a pleased sound before she cuddled into him further.
Try as he might though, he couldn't deny he was now more awake than asleep. Not that it stopped him from stubbornly refusing to open his eyes. He was warm, and... well, not exactly comfortable—he had just spent the night asleep upright on a sofa, after all—but still, he found didn't want to move. But the longer he sat there, the more discomfort he experienced; unfamiliar aches and twinges making themselves known as he forced himself to remain still. He felt a strong urge to rub the back of his neck, to try to ease the tension in the muscles there, but with one hand still linked with the Detective's and the other trapped awkwardly under her offspring, it was impossible. Not unless he woke one of them in the process, which was something he was completely unwilling to do.
This was a moment, and he was determined to hang on to it as long as possible.
Part of him still couldn't quite believe it, that this could be his life now. The thought made him want to pull them both just that little bit closer, a desire that would have been foreign to him not so long ago. But this was something he was allowed now, and so he indulged himself, drawing them both to him as best he could without disturbing what he now knew was a much needed rest after the activities of the day before.
Unfortunately though, his neck continued to bother him, and now his back was growing stiff as well. Left with little other option, he leaned his head back with a grimace, moving it from side to side and listening with something akin to horror at the cracking sound it caused. Next, he tilted forward slightly, enough as he could arch his back a little. And after that, he rolled his shoulders… and he froze.
It couldn't be.
A million thoughts raced through his mind as he finally registered the weight at his back, and the soft sensation of feathers against his skin. It was a dream, he told himself, it had to be. For them to grow back, after all this time… it was impossible. Father had given Amenadiel his wings back, just after he'd seen fit to take his away after Pierce. It was a fact, something he had convinced himself had to be true. He simply refused to accept any other explanation.
Until now.
Now that he could feel the Detective's breath across his primaries, now that he realised he was holding her not with his arms, but with his wings. Both were wrapped tightly around his humans, his family, forming a cocoon that would protect them from any harm that might come their way. Just like he had always tried to.
He took a deep breath, and then dared to open his eyes. The familiar sight of pristine white feathers greeted him, something he thought he would never see again. The uninformed viewer might mistake them for a blanket of some kind, if not for the way they rippled with every movement he made, no matter how slight. They were, as they had always been, breathtaking.
But right now, in this moment, it wasn't his wings that took his breath away. No, that was the sight of his Detective, his Chloe, gazing up at him with a smile so bright it was blinding. Unable to help himself, he kissed her, pouring every ounce of love and affection he felt for her into each caress of his lips against hers. When he pulled away, she looked at him with shining eyes, but it wasn't until he felt her hand on his face that he realised he was the one who was crying. Gently, she pulled his head down to hers, until their foreheads rested against one another. Neither of them said a word. They didn't need to, not when he finally had the answer to the only question that had ever mattered.
What's this?
He knew what it was.
It was home.