"Dan, I can't believe that you're doing this to Trixie. Again. You promised that you'd spend some time with her this week," Chloe said to her ex-husband, driving home from yet another day of paperwork, phone in speaker, watching as the fading afternoon light cast looking shadows on the road ahead, dark shapes blooming across an otherwise colourful street.

"Chloe, that's not fair; you know I'd be there if I could," Dan said angrily.

"Really, Dan, do I know that? Because no matter what's going on with you and me, I don't want Trixie to get hurt. I won't let her get hurt. This is not her fault and she doesn't deserve to suffer just because you and I are having problems."

"I love Trixie. She's my daughter too, Chloe," Dan murmured.

Chloe sighed. "I know. Which is why you're coming over first thing tomorrow and spending the the day with her. And if you don't show, I'll haul you out of bed myself. Or I could just throw you in holding," Chloe mused as she made a turn, warehouses rising on either side like the hedgerows of a maze, blocking out the light.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Chloe. Listen, I've got a case to close, but I promise I'll call later to say goodnight to Trix," Dan said. She could hear him typing through the phone, the clack of the keyboard keys. It was always like this now, always her getting only half of him.

"I'll hold you to that," was all she said as she ended the call.

The Detective let out yet another sigh, fingers drumming on the wheel of her cruiser. She'd only just returned to active duty after Palmetto Street, and she was still only being assigned minor cases, as if she was being punished for simply doing her job. Everyone at the office looked at her differently, and with her divorce with Dan -who everybody loved- she felt like an interloper, as if she shouldn't be there. As if she should be ashamed.

But she wasn't.

She felt sorry, but she wasn't ashamed.

But Dan was. It was in every unspoken word and every missed dinner, every night spent at the precinct or out with Louise and all his cop buddies. Gone were the nights where all three of them curled up on the couch and tolerated Trixie's barrage of Disney movies, or cooking dinner and helping her with her homework. Or even working cases together, a solid team that worked so well. He used to have her back, but now Chloe wondered if Dan would rather see the back of her after Palmetto Street.

Or maybe she was just overthinking it.

Now, Chloe prided herself on her ability to drive. Even when she was lost in thought, she was still aware of her surroundings. As a detective, she had to be.

Which is why, when a man seemed to just appear out if nowhere and she couldn't stop te car from colliding with him, she was most surprised.

Well, this was most unexpected.

Lucifer Morningstar, exiled angel and ruler of hell, had been out for a stroll, head swimming after Amenadiel yet again interrupted one if his grand parties and told him to get back down to Hell.

He'd been on earth now for five years, had sampled anything and everything the city of angels had to offer. He had the world at his feet, and yet it never felt like enough. Not the money or the glamour or the women -and the men- or the endless steams of debauchery he somehow found himself knee-deep in. What did he have to complain about? Absolutely nothing. Yet something still nagged at him, somewhere in the back of his mind. Like when you think you've left the stove on event though you know you haven't, but it's still there...

Well, no matter what it was, Lucifer didn't care for it. So he'd decided to go clear his head, and found himself wondering with no real sense of direction, of purpose. Until he'd somehow ended up in the warehouse district, and something had made him stop. It was like a palpable charge in the air, like ozone in a thunderstorm, crackling against his skin.

He hadn't even realized he'd stopped in the middle of a road -he was the Devil, therefore invulnerable, and therefore road safety was of little consequence to him- until a car hit him.

Which should have been impossible.

Yet here he was, Lucifer bloody Morningstar, sprawled out on the pavement like some abandoned starfish. It was most humiliating.

Then someone was leaning over him, asking him if he was okay.

Lucifer craned his head. She was beautiful, blonde hair and eyes a dazzling shade of blue, and was somehow oddly familar. Well, if he had to expire on the pavement after being hit by a car, at least he'd die looking at something so beautiful.

There wasn't a single person in the whole universe who truly knew him, and that had never really bothered him before. But now, as black spots dotted his vision and he fought to stay conscious... now, he wasn't so sure.

The stranger knelt down beside him, fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse.

"Oh, thank God I haven't killed you."

Wrong deity, but it wasn't like she knew that.

"Hey, hello, can you hear me? What's your name?" she asked him.

He smiled. "Lucifer. Morningstar."

"What, is that like a stage name or something?" she asked as she ran an eye over him, looking for blood.

"God given I'm afraid."

"Well, Lucifer, I'm Detective Chloe Decker. Do you know where you are?"

"I'm currently sprawled out in the middle of the road like some emo pop artist while you see if you've permanently damaged anything with your car."

"Ha, very fun. Listen, can you stand? You need to go to a hospital," the Detective urged him.

Lucifer sat up, leaning on her shoulder. "I'm quiet alright, Detective. Nothing a stiff drink won't fix. Although I can't say they same for my suit. Such a shame; I just got this last week."

The Detective rolled her eyes. "Your suit aside, Mr Morningstar, you've literally just been hit by a car. You've most likely got a concussion, maybe even internal bleeding. And i really don't want you to die."

"No. Hospitals," he enunciated clearly. "Truly, I'm fine, Detective."

Detective Decker chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. "Fine. But at least let me take you home and check to see if you've got any broken ribs. It's the least I can do."

"Very well, Detective. I'll get into the vehicle you just rammed into me so that you can check for any damages you caused me after your vehicle rammed into me."

"I said I was sorry!" she exclaimed.

"No, you didn't," Lucifer pointed out with a grin. Oh, it was fun to rile her.

The Detective huffed an indignant breath. "Well, is am sorry. Although it's not my fault that you were walking in the middle of the road, when it's dark, and didn't see me. In my defence, you did seem to appear out of nowhere."

Lucifer shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a man of many mysteries."

"Yeah, like why you won't shut up," she mumbled under her breath.

"I heard that," he said, but she ignored him, instead helping him stand, her arm around his shoulders.

She helped him get into the back of the car. He watched her through the metal police barrier as she got out her keys.

"Seatbelt," she said, key in the ignition.

"What am I? Five?" he mumbled but relented to her request.

"No one is above wearing a seatbelt. I don't want to temp fate, so just sit there, stop complaining, and be thankful you're not roadkill," she said angrily.

Lucifer chuckled. Devil: 1. Detective: 0.

Lucifer didn't take any notice of his surroundings as she drove, his attention was far too riveted in figuring out the Detective. She'd hit him with her car, yes, but why was he hurt. He felt like he'd at least bruised a few ribes, not that he'd admit that to her, and his back felt like it had just been walked over by a woman in very sharp stilettos. And not in a fun way. Not that he could even think of a fun way. He'd never been in this position before, never been so vulnerable, and it alarmed him a great deal.

Did his father send her? As some sort of punishment for not running back down to Hell like a good little archangel and doling out punishment to humanity?

Well, it wasn't very creative. It was the kind of thing that belonged in a rom-com, and Lucifer had a particular aversion to those. Or just love in general.

Lucifer Morningstar did not do feelings. Lust and passion and desire and euphoria, yes, but not the nitty-gritty of it all.

He just wasn't that kind of Devil. And he didn't want to be.

The Detective pulled up at an expensive looking house, which Lucifer had most certainly not been expecting, given her occupation and just general personality. When she made to help him out of the car, he protested, not wanting to feel even more like an invalid. He was uneven footing, and needed to be on his guard.

She had scarcely opened the door when a small child came barreling up to her. "Mom!" she cried, hugging her across the middle.

The Detective smiled, and it seemed to light up her face as she give the child another hug. "Hey, honey, how was school? Have you started your homework yet?"

The girl crossed her arms. "it was okay, and I wanted to wait so you could help me with my Math. You know I don't like long division; it's boring," the child said with great indignation.

Chloe smirked. 'Basically, you just wanted to watch cartoons and see how long you could get away with it? I definitely need a new babysitter. But in the meantime, go get started and I'll come in and help in a minute." She turned to face him, eyes glinting. "And you. On the couch. Now. I'll go see what I've got in the first aid kit."

The Detective made sure the door was locked and disappeared into the house. Deciding there was no way around it, Lucifer unceremoniously flopped onto the couch, digging out what looked like a Barbie doll from behind his back. Ugh, children. He honestly couldn't fathom why someone would want the responsibility of looking after another human, as well as yourself. Devoting years of your life for them to only leave and get piercings or whatever counted as 'rebelling' these days.

Unfortunately, the offspring didn't do what she was told. Instead, she came and sat beside him, face inquisitive. "Who are you?" she asked baldly.

"Lucifer Morningstar."

The child didn't look frightened, only grinned and said, "Like the Devil?"

Lucifer didn't fight his smile. "Exactly."

Trixie cocked her head. "How do you know my mom?" she asked.

"She hit me with her car. By accident, of course, but it wasn't exactly what I'd deem a fun experience."

Instantly, the child's mood shifted. "Is she okay? Did she get hurt?" she inquired worriedly.

The two were close, then. Lucky her.

Deciding to out her out if her misery, he was quick to reassure her, "Don't worry, child, your mother is quite alright. Not a scratch."

Trixie nodded. "Good. I don't like it when she gets hurt. I get scared. I know that her job is important and stuff, but I don't want her to get hurt by bad people."

Lucifer had never thought of that, what it would be like for a child to worry about a parent not coming home, about them getting hurt and growing up alone. The child seemed decent enough, and for some reason he wanted to comfort her.

Must be the pain getting to him. "For what it's worth, child, I think your mother cares for you a great deal, if what I've just seen is any indication. And I think that she wouldn't ever let something had happen that could hurt you, so you just have believe me when I tell you that I don't lie, and that your mother loves you, and would always try and be careful when she goes after 'bad guys' as you said."

The girl smiled, back to her recent cheer. "Thanks, Lucifer. That was nice of you to say."

Lucifer smiled, true and genuine. "You're welcome."

The Detective came back, arms laden with bandages and a first aid kit tucked under her chin. "Hey, monkey, didn't I tell you to start your homework already?"

Trixie hopped off the couch, looking contrite. "Yes, mommy, but I was talking to Lucifer. He seems nice."

Chloe seemed to soften, putting her supplies down on the coffee table. "That may be, but you've still got homework to do, and you don't want to do it later when you're sleepy, do you?"

"No," the child admitted.

"Right. So, Homework. And after, maybe chocolate cake. And maybe Tangled; you just watched Princess and the Frog last week."

"Yes! Okay, I'll go do homework. Bye, Lucifer," she said, and skipped off down the hall.

"She seems tolerable," Lucifer said as the Detective perched on the coffe table, cotton pad in hand.

"Wow, what a sterling compliment. Well, I need you take off your shirt."

"You know, when people usually ask me that, there's a lot more fun, less alcohol swab and sitting on Barbie dolls," he said but obliged, even though it made his ribs bark in pain.

The Detective rolled her eyes. It seemed to be a habit. "Right. You own Lux, don't you? The nightclub?" she came to sit beside him, eyes assessing clinically.

"The one and only."

"I can totally see that," she quipped, pressing a swab to a shallow cut on his chest.

"Bloody hell! Your bedside manner leaves little be desired, Detective," Lucifer drawled dryly.

"Be grateful it's me and not Trixie. Somehow I don't think you'd appreciate being covered in glittery plasters and have a pair of fairy wings stuck to your back or an eye patch or something," the Detective remarked.

"Yes, I suppose that's true."

Chloe gestured, a universal sign of 'Please, turn around before I put one of these bandages in your mouth to shut you up.'

Lucifer paused. Of course, he didn't want to turn around, didn't want her to see the serrated flesh of his back from where Maze had cut his wings off. But he couldn't really say no, could he? Most humans would have likely left him at the side of the road after hitting him, but not her. Then again, if it had been anyone else he would have likely trashed the car and walked away without a scratch.

Lucifer turned around.

He couldn't see her face, not properly, but he did catch her blinking several times out of the corner of his eye, heard her quiet gasp. Her hand hovered, inches from the mangled scars, but he spun, catching her wrist in his grasp.

"Don't," he murmured. "Please."

Chloe nodded, hand falling out of his grasp. "Who did that?" she asked.

"It's complicated," was all he said.

Chloe didn't ask any further questions, simply picked up a bandage and wrapped it around his chest, careful not to wind it too tight. Lucifer shrugged his shirt back on, fingers lingering on the buttons.

He glaced up, expecting to see the Detective already gone, but she was still standing there, spare bandage in her hand, worrying it between her fingers. Then she looked up at him, and resolve seemed to sparkle in her eyes.

"You know, you could always stay the night."

She had to have been out if her damn mind. Honestly, if this was any other time, she should have been extremely worried about the words that had just come out of her mouth. Chloe had Trixie to worry about, and he was a stranger and his reputation certainly proceeded him.

Drugs and women and gambling and almost every crime in the book. But looking at him, she didn't see that. She saw someone who had been through pain and was trying to hide it. She'd seen the way he looked at her with Trixie, that almost jealousy and anger that comes from a negligent parent. She was no stranger to familial issues, and those scars on his back made her wonder...

She'd never been able to turn away from someone in need. Whether it was a case or a lost child at the mall or a friend who needed a ride home, it tugged on something inside her that she couldn't explain, couldn't form into words.

When Lucifer didn't say anything, she was quick to clarify, "On the couch. Only if you want. I've got blankets and stuff and it's getting late and if you've got a concussion you need someone to keep an eye on you and..." Chloe trailed off from her ramble, fingers still caught up in the bandage.

"So, what do you say?"

Lucifer was shocked. He hadn't expected the Detective to make such an offer, that she'd be fine with letting a stranger stay in her house, around her child. She was intriguing, different from the other humans that he'd known in his time. And it wasn't just because of her looks, or because she'd patched him up. It was something else, and it was entirely vexing and therefore entirely fascinating.

But still, he was the Devil and he didn't do friends or mates or companions or partners. But he'd been hit by a car, and the couch was really quite comfy, and her child wasn't completely awful...

"Yes, I'll stay. For a while, just until I'm more clear-headed."

Chloe's eyes flickered, but she nodded. "Cool. Great. I'll just go put this stuff back and check on Trixie. The kitchens through there and the bathrooms that way if you need anything."

The Detective walked off. There was the sound of closing doors, then opening as she checked in on her offspring. She laughed at whatever the girl said, and Lucifer smiled, without knowing why. He needed a drink.

Deciding that he wanted to see if the Detective had anything stashed away, Lucifer headed in the direction she had indicated, finding an abysmally stocked kitchen. Who didn't have truffle oil? Alas, he didn't find any scotch, but there was a half open bottle of wine. The vintage was off-putting enough that he left it alone. He did, however, make a cup of coffee and took a bagel from the cupboard that looked vaguely edible.

Lucifer took his provisions back to the couch. After he'd drained his coffee, Lucifer closed his eyes, taking a long breath. He opened them, and a familiar poster caught his eye. Smirking, Lucifer rose from the couch and investigated.

He scanned the poster, the familiar name causing the puzzle pieces of his mind to click into place. Oh, he was so going to tease her for this. Mercilessly.

Before he could, Trixie came up to him, small arms barely coming around his waist. "Hi, Lucifer!" she said with an innocent smile.

Dear Dad, he hoped this wouldn't rub off on him. He did not want this urchin cramping his cool, Devil-may-care -pun intended- partying style.

"I did all my homework!" she exclaimed, as if this was supposed to impress him. "Okay," Lucifer said slowly, unsure how to respond. What did she want? A pat on the head?

"Mommy says we can watch Tangled and have chocolate cake after dinner since my dad broke his promise. Will you watch it with me?" she asked.

Something in his heart twanged at how she's said such a statement so nonchalantly, as if this were a regular occurrence, perfectly normal and expected. He wondered what the Detective had to say about it.

"Sure," he replied, since he had planned to stay on the couch anyway. The child partially dragged him over to hit, sitting down beside him and grabbing the remote. He hoped there wasn't any talking animals.

Lucifer detested talking animals.

After throwing together a quick dinner, Chloe came down and sat on Trixie's other side, the child a barrier between them. Not that he minded. After eating her slices of pizza, the Detective's offspring dove into her chocolate cake with so much gusto even Lucifer was surprised. There was one piece of her slice left, covered in icing, and the girl looked at Lucifer's empty plate and asked, "Do you want the last bit?"

Lucifer smiled at the gesture. "Why not?" he asked, taking it off her plate and chewing. It was good cake, and Lucifer we never one to decline good cake.

He didn't notice Chloe's own smile, or the shock in her eyes.

The girl rested her head near his shoulder but still gave him room, smiling at the antics of the male protagonist. He had to admit, Flynn Rider was a decent enough fellow. After all, Lucifer was a big supporter of scandalous piracy and adventure. It was what kept him in business, after all.

The movie had been on for over an hour when Chloe's phone rang.

She didn't want to answer it.

She wanted to stay on the couch with her daughter and this guy who made her laugh at his incessant critiques and commentary, even though he still sang along to the songs. He had a good voice. A really good voice. She could imagine him playing piano.

Trixie had given him her chocolate cake. She never did that. Ever. She was staring to get attached to this guy who her mom had hit with her car, and she didn't have the heart to tell her daughter that he'd be gone by the time she woke up, that they'd probably never see him again. Everyone always seemed to leave the two of them, or maybe it was just Chloe, and she was projecting.

Lucifer glanced over, understanding in his eyes. The two shared a look, and he wordlessly picked up the remote, turning up the movie. Her relief in that moment threatened to make her knees wobble but she still got off the couch, going to her bedroom and closing the door.

Lucifer knew. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew however had called the Detective was likey the child's father, who should have been sitting on this couch with his daughter instead of Lucifer, watching as Trixie sang along to what was most likely the love song. It did look pretty, he and to admit, with all the floating lanterns. At least Rapunzel wasn't some quaking maiden embroidering pillowcases or whatever.

He could definitely imagine the Detective hitting someone on the head with a frying pan.

Although she'd gone to another room, Lucifer could still make out her voice.

And she was pissed.

The two were arguing about some case -so the ex was also a cop, wonderful- and Chloe was having none of it.

Another broken promise, another string of empty words she claimed he didn't mean. Another murder to solve, another child missing her father.

"It's like this all the time."

Lucifer turned his head so fast he felt it groan.

He didn't know what to say.

He'd never been in a position where he had to console a hurt child, had wanted to provide words of comfort and assurance. He remembered want it was like, when his own parents fought, hearing their voices echo in their palace in the Silver City. Or worse, when the halls went quiet, because their mother was no longer there, but in Hell.

"I don't like seeing mommy so sad. That they fight because of me. They think I don't know what divorce is, but I looked it up on the Internet. I know kids at school who's parents have gone through it. Sometimes I think it's my fault that they don't love each other, because before I was born they didn't use to fight, I don't think. But mommy always tells me that that's not true, that it's got nothing to do with me, that it's not my fault. But still, I still think it, sometimes. When Daddy has to work. And it's not like this all the time. He used to come and play with me and we'd watch movies together and eat ice cream, but since the trouble mommy had with her job... Now it's like he doesn't want to be around as much. And that makes me sad."

He didn't know why he did it. When he got home, hours later, sitting in his bed, drink in hand, he would still not be able to fathom what came over him in that precise moment, what compelled him to do such an act.

To pick the child up and give her a hug.

Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he'd done that, hugged someone to provide comfort. Maybe not ever, really.

He stroked her tears away, giving her a moment as she quietly sniffled.

"Child, life is complicated. Love is complicated. You can fall out of it as easily as you fell in, or so I'm told, and sadly nothing in this world really lasts forever, even if we want it to. But it's not your fault. My parents had similar problems, although not quite like this. And I was sad, too. Because my parents weren't the same. I haven't seen them for a long time, and don't wish too, but I don't want you to go through that kind of pain. I want you to eat ice cream and go on a grand adventure with a chameleon and hit people on the head with kitchen utensils, because I think you're a fighter, just like your mother. I'm good at reading people, at knowing what they want. And your mother wants you to be happy. As for your father, he sounds like a right douche, but I think he would want you to be happy, too. So I know it seems unlikely know, but you have to have faith that things will work out, and that you'll get to spend time with your dad, and forgive him, if you so choose to. But make him grovel a bit, at least for a while. Make him buy you a pony or something."

"Or a dragon?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Yes, or a dragon. Perfect for making s'mores."

Chloe stood in the shadows of the hallway, phone gripped in her hand. She hadn't even realized how tightly she'd been holding it until she looked down and saw that her knuckles had gone white. She let go slightly, Dan quiet on the other end.

Plastering a smile on her face, Chloe went over to Trixie, who was dozing on Lucifer's shoulder. She paused the movie.

"Hey, monkey, your dad wants to talk to you," she said quietly.

Trixie turned her head. "Okay," she said sleepily after several seconds, taking the phone and disappearing into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about that," Chloe began, "It's just-"

"You don't have anything to explain to me, Detective," Lucifer quietly but fervently. "I imagine that it can't be easy, being a parent and chasing down bad guys and sorting out other things."

So he'd heard some if what she'd said to Dan. Somehow, that didn't bother her as much as it should. Chloe stared at the TV screen, the picture of the princess reunited with her parents feeling so ironic.

"It's not," she admitted.

"Take it from someone who knows, Detective, that I think your daughters going to be fine, once the dust has settled. But in the meantime, I think you should consider how much you let your daughter know. Or hear. While honesty is important, innocence is just as essential."

Chloe knew. Knew that Trixie got upset, and she did really try and protect her from the truth, from the ugliness of the world and what people did to each other, especially those they cared about most. It was a juggling act, and she felt like she always kept dropping something whilst trying to keep something else up in the air. But that wasn't Trixie's problem; it was her own.

Chloe nodded. "You know, for the Devil you're oddly insightful," she joked.

Lucifer smirked. "I have my moments."

Trixie came back, phone in hand. "Daddy wasn't going to come tomorrow, he said he had work. But I made him promise to get someone else to do it."

Chloe wrapped her arms around her, kissing the crown of her head. "That's my girl, ever the negotiator."

She felt her daughter yawn against her chest, although she tried to stifle it.

Chloe pulled away. "It seems like it's someone's bedtime."

"But I want to finish watching Tangled! I want to see them live happily ever after," she objected.

Chloe rolled her eyes in exaggeration but inwardly smiled. "Okay, ten more minutes. Then teeth and bed. Deal?"

"Deal." Trixie launched herself at the remote, eyes glued on the screen.

Lucifer watched the end of the movie, and although the ending was entirely cliché, he had to admit the movie had some charm, and none of the animals had talked and the 'prince' had been tolerable.

Dear Dad, he'd found a Disney character tolerable.

This was definitely not good. What was wrong with him? Seriously. Had he contracted some disease just from being in the child's presence for a few hours? The next thing he knew, he'd be having tea parties and wearing flowery bonnets.

He was the Lord of Hell. He did not wear bonnets, flowery or otherwise.

Eventually, Trixie finally conceded to sleep. But not before she gave him a heartfelt hug and said, "Bye, Lucifer! It was nice meeting you," and hopped off to bed. The Detective stared after her for several seconds, worry and love fighting for dominance in her face.

Lucifer got up from the couch. "I really should be going," he said to her.

She turned to face him, something reluctant in her eyes. Which was absurd. He was just some stranger she'd hit with her car and watched a movie and had dinner with her kid. That was it. They'd go their separate ways, two people meeting and then passing in the night. It could be no other way.

Couldn't it?

Chloe shook her head. "Right. I'd drive you, but with Trixie..."

Lucifer put up a hand. "It's quite alright, Detective. Besides, there's no way I'm spending any more time in that car of yours."

The Detective laughed. "Understandable. I'll get the door for you."

The Detective did indeed open the door, but she clung to it, as if she let go she'd have to let him go, too. "Thank you, Lucifer. For making my daughter smile. Hell, for making me smile. My life's difficult at the moment, and it was nice to forget about my job for a while. Even though I could have done without the singing. I honestly don't know how she watches those things on a loop."

Lucifer laughed, surprising himself. "Indeed. And you're welcome. It's nice to have a change of scenery, and of company."

The Detective just stood there, then dug into a pocket of her jeans and pulled out a pen. She brazenly took the pocket square from his jacket and wrote on it, using the doorframe to lean on.

She tucked it back into his pocket. "There. That's my number. You know, just in case you get arrested and need someone to vouch for you."

"You wound me with such criminal accusations, Detective," he said dramatically. "Actually, I'm quite flattered."

Lucifer stuck out her hand. "It was a pleasure to be hit by your car, Detective."

Chloe took it, her grip unsurprisingly firm but surprisingly warm. "It was a pleasure to hit you with my car, Lucifer Morningstar. I hope we run into each other again. Hopefully in less destructive circumstances.

He chuckled and let go, even though something in him went cold at the loss of her touch. "Let's hope so. Goodbye, Detective."

And with that, the Devil walked off into the night, alone once again, but changed nonetheless.

A few days later.

"Detective Decker," Chloe said into her phone as she drive around downtown L.A, on her way back to the precinct after making an arrest.

"I see," Chloe said to the officer on the end of the line.

Another murder, another crime scene to investigate.

"Address?" she asked.

The officer rattled off the address. Why did it sound so familiar.

"Okay, I'm on my way."

Chloe turned up at the address, notebook in pocket, clip full and badge on hip.

The Detective looked up at the building, at the shining lights and the expensive car parked around the corner.

And she smiled. But then it dropped. What if...?

Chloe Decker walked past to the police tape, past the flashing siren lights and milling officers, the CSI's and Dan's startled face, striding into Lux.

As if sensing her there, the figure on the piano bench turned as she descended the stairs.

The man smiled. "Hello, Detective."

Author's Note: Hello, fellow Lucifans! This is my second Lucifer fic, but my first attempt at writing earlier versions of our beloved Deckerstar. What did you think? Please let me know your thoughts and whether or not you enjoyed it. Although Dan in season one still cares about Trixie very much, I wanted to see what it would be like if there was more conflict there, how Palmetto Street would affect their relationship.

My first Lucifer fic is called A Story In Grief, if you wish to check it out, but beware, it does contain spoilers for 5B.

Thank you so much for reading.

Have a lovely rest of your day.

With love, Temperance Cain.