A/N: As I have mentioned, the cursive parts (except the beginning, which is a small reprise) are from Tempest's poem. :)

Chapter 23 – The only stable point

"Then why are you here?" Lucifer asked finally.

"I…" Chloe paused, and with determination, looked up, into his eyes. "I wanted to see if you were okay," she confessed.

"Why?" the question escaped Lucifer involuntarily, and the song continued in his head.

-.-.-.-

Why? Why do you still – care?

"Why?"

Chloe watched him for a while, with a puzzled expression. He was so guarded. So distant.

"Because despite – despite everything that happened last night, you're my partner," she said resolutely, her voice gaining sort of a momentum. "You saved my life. And you were injured." She studied him, carefully. "But it seems that you're better now," she concluded uncertainly.

Lucifer's jaw tensed after he considered her words.

I wish you'd stop thanking me, I saved you for – just selfish me. "Yeah – as you can see – I'm uh- not injured. Rest assured, I will be all right, Detective. You don't owe me anything." He faced away from Chloe as he spoke, getting up and over to the bar. Once there, he halted, lingered, not knowing what to do next.

Chloe emitted a sound that was a strange mixture of a chuckle, a sob, and a snort.

"You think that I'm here because of some sense of obligation?" she asked, her voice cracking and unable to stop her tears, again, she sniffed loudly.

Lucifer turned around in one fluid motion at the sound and risked a glance at her. Their gaze met, and he saw a single, fat teardrop rolling down her cheek – oh, how he wanted to kiss it away!

I can walk into fire, baby, but tell me how to fix this,

Maybe I'm all bravado, but

Oh I need to mend this.

Are we far too gone?

He just stood there, instead, and nodded, hesitantly. His head hurt – everything was happening so fast.

Chloe stood up. Slowly. Her knees still shaking a little bit, she stared at him defiantly.

"I'm here because my world is falling apart – and strangely – you feel like the only stable point in it!" Her voice rose gradually.

Lucifer felt a small flutter in his chest. A feeling that he desperately wanted to keep away, started to worm its way into his insides. Hope. One nod, one yes, oh baby, could you let me stay,

I promise I won't mess it up, mess it up, once again,

The world might be out to get me,

But for now, I don't really care.

"But how?" Lucifer was truly surprised.

"Amenadiel said something when he came to pick you up last night."

Lucifer waited for her to speak.

"He said – you're still you." Chloe looked him in the eyes, all seriousness. "Are you?"

Lucifer considered her question.

Am I still me – what choice could it be,

To for once just be someone else.

But all I have here, is a tower of pieces,

Built from scraps of failed ways.

"I never lied to you," he said finally.

"But – you weren't exactly straightforward, either!" Chloe argued back.

Lucifer wanted to refute her accusation, but he choked on the words, nodding defeatedly. "You're right, Detective. You deserve better than that." He paused. "Go on – Ask me anything, and you will have my most sincere answers."

"No more half-truths? No more omissions?" she asked.

"No more."

"Okay," Chloe sighed and collapsed on the couch.

Lucifer just then realized, how tired she looked. There were dark circles below her eyes and her lips were chapped. He felt dumb, at not having noticed her state earlier. She might be okay, injury-wise, but it looked like her last night hadn't been so restful either.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar and held it to her. She must have been exhausted and thirsty because she drank half of its content greedily. Lucifer sat on the farthest side of the couch warily, as if he didn't want to spook her, and waited patiently for her questions.

Once finished drinking, she fiddled with the cap of the bottle and fixed her gaze on it as if it was something particularly interesting.

"Your wings," she said quietly after a while.

Lucifer stared blankly at her.

"What about them?" he asked uncertainly.

"You told me once that you cut them off. I thought you were joking but – obviously, you weren't. But – you have wings now. How does…"

Wow. She sure started off with a heavy question.

Their gazes met and the gravity of the situation hit him suddenly. The Detective's behaviour looked changed, and this change was eerily familiar. He had seen it many times. This posture, this firm expression, this dominance, and the curiosity in her eyes. This was an interrogation. And he was the suspect.

"That's true. More precisely, I had asked Maze to cut them off. More than seven years ago – when I had decided to stay on Earth. But they grew back, only recently. When I'd been kidnapped and woken up in the desert, they were on my back again. I'm not exactly sure why and how they grew back, though."

Chloe studied him, considering his answer. The word 'exactly' indicated that he didn't share every detail, but she decided against pushing the issue for now. She had too many questions.

"Why did you come to Earth?"

"Well, I needed a vacation." He crossed his legs and tried to sound nonchalant, which was quite hard considering his heart thumped wildly in his chest. He wanted to be completely honest, but he didn't want to scare her either.

Also, speaking about himself—about his true self— was not one of his strong suits.

"Hell is – well… Detective, I promised I would be honest with you, but I don't want to overwhelm you with the details. Just believe me when I say that Hell is a hideous place. And being the custodian of the world's filth is… I just wanted a break. You know, I haven't been here since the '70s, and time goes much slower in Hell, so it was practically eons for me."

Chloe stared at him with wide eyes.

"You visited Earth before as well?"

"Occasionally. But I could never spend more than a few days here because Amenadiel dragged my arse back to Hell every time."

"What changed now? I mean, seven years ago. How could you stay this time?"

"Do you want the shorter or the longer version?"

She glared at him. "You just promised me that you won't be elusive, and I have plenty of time to hear your answers."

Chloe was so accustomed to rebuking Lucifer, it had become a routine, a habit to her – into which she had fallen back without realising it. But as she finished speaking, it dawned onto her that she – she had just scolded and glared at the Devil. To his face. Her eyes widened. Well, a few minutes ago you also hugged him, so scratch that, the tiny, smirky part of her brain chimed in.

Lucifer noticed her sudden confusion and smiled at her reassuringly.

"You're right, Detective. So, the longer version is that Amenadiel had come after me as usual, but he'd gotten into some trouble. He'd been shot. Obviously, he didn't get injured; angels are invulnerable. But the few seconds while he'd been unconscious was enough for the attacker to steal his necklace-"

"Wait, what?"

"Hm?"

"You said that 'we angels are invulnerable'. But I saw you get injured several times. When Malcolm shot you, I saw a giant puddle of blood on the floor, and a few weeks ago you got a knife in your chest."

She listed the facts as she'd seen them, but then she remembered a random phrase of Marcus's letter. Why did Lucifer become vulnerable around you? I assumed it was because you loved him.

What does it all mean? thought Chloe.

The Detective was clever, indeed. Lucifer squirmed, fixing his gaze on the red pocket square in his hands, which became crumpled because of his constant nervous fiddling with it.

"I've had some uh – vulnerability issues – mortality issues lately, but-" he admitted, kind of reluctantly, but then turned suddenly indignant. "This is a digression. This isn't related to your earlier inquiry – if you constantly side-question me, I'm afraid I'll never be able to finish answering one question, let alone all. Especially since you want to hear the longer version, do you not?" he finished dramatically.

While Chloe had sensed the discomfort Lucifer had felt when she asked him about his vulnerability, she couldn't suppress a small smile. This dramatic-speech-giving Lucifer was all too familiar. His child-like behaviour, affronted pose – it made her utterly relieved. Because this meant that Lucifer was who he had been, the same person – being, she corrected herself again –that he had been around her, and that she'd gotten to know.

"Sorry. I won't interrupt. Go on," she said, trying to contain a chuckle.

Lucifer dived into the story again.

"So, as I told you earlier, someone stole Amenadiel's necklace, and he had become a tad antsy because he was quite attached to the necklace – rightfully so. He'd asked for my help in locating the necklace so I made a deal with him. My help, in return for the usual IOU. In the beginning of our hunt for the jewel thief, I hadn't been sure of what I would ask.

When we followed the clues, we found that the theft was related to the murder of this young fighter, who refused to take a fall in a pre-arranged fight. So, we traced the sketchy guy who booked these fights, persuaded him to arrange for another one, and then set up the fight to convince the murderer who wanted to bet on Aiden's fall to bet on Amenadiel's fall instead. And then-"

"Wait, did you say 'Aiden'?"

"Yes, Aiden uh -Scott. Yeah, he was the dead fighter. Why?"

"Aiden Scott – the young prizefighter's murder case – that's the case that got me promoted to detective. I was waiting by the lockers," Chloe slowly recalled her investigation. "We'd almost caught Aiden's coach, but he disappeared all of a sudden, and then reappeared out of nowhere," she recounted her steps, certain unexplained things making some sense now. "He confessed to the murder, everything. He was a blabbering mess." Things clicked in Chloe's head. "Did you…?"

"Well, I just gave him a minuscule insight into where he would go, once he finished his earthly life," Lucifer hurried with the explanation. He didn't want the Detective to believe that he tortured that miscreant. Not that he wouldn't have deserved it.

"So, you showed him your wings?"

Damn. She was good at this – too good. Lucifer didn't like where this question would go. But she was still here. And oddly enough, she didn't look scared or petrified.

"Not exactly," he murmured.

"What do you mean by that?"

He sighed but decided to answer honestly, "Back then, I had something more frightening than my wings. I – I had a…devil face. With burned red flesh, and my eyes were-"

"Blazing red?" the Detective interjected.

Lucifer frowned in surprise.

"Yes. But…how do you know that?"

"I think I've seen them once. In the warehouse – when I'd shot you in the leg. It was just a glimpse. And you bled when I'd shot you, so, I convinced myself that it was just the trick of the light."

She glanced at him. He almost smiled back at her – he was remembering that day, that memory. Things had gotten so twisted that her shooting him was now a happy memory.

"You know, I wanted to show it to you," Lucifer said softly. "It took me a while to convince myself about it. I was afraid that..." he trailed off.

But the Detective spared him the torment. "That I wouldn't accept you," she finished his sentence.

Their gaze met for a moment. It was just a few seconds, but they could share more with their eyes than with their words. Still, the heaviness of his untold emotions made Lucifer avert his gaze.

He began fiddling with the pocket square again as he continued, "Anyway… The fact that I had been kidnapped and dumped in the desert impeded my plans. My wings were back on my back, but I didn't know that I lost my devil face, until I tried to show it to you in the precinct's lab."

"Oh, I remember that. It was quite awkward," she chuckled. But her expression turned guilty when she saw Lucifer's offended frown. "Sorry… It must have been unsettling for you."

"It was…confusing and, well, infuriating," he concluded.

Chloe started to frown.

"But if you were so afraid of how people—I mean those who are close to you—would react to your…devil face, then why weren't you…I don't know…more relieved when it was gone?" She gestured vaguely towards his face.

"Because I thought it was another manipulation from my Father. Although I'm not so sure about that anymore."

And then there was that silence again. Chloe took the opportunity and finished her water. Lucifer glanced at the now empty bottle and got up from the couch. He was anxious, and it felt good to do something useful with his restless limbs. He strode to the bar and grabbed another bottle of water and a bottle of scotch for himself. Before he could return, though, the Detective stopped him with a request.

"I think I could use something stronger right now." She pointed at the scotch.

"Are you sure, Detective?" Lucifer frowned.

When she nodded, he grabbed another tumbler. He poured a generous amount for both of them and watched with fascination as she drank the tumbler's content with a few large gulps. He couldn't suppress a fond smile when she coughed a little after she'd finished her drink.

Lucifer wondered if he could ask – He had his own questions. They seemed to be hung in a limbo right now, but when this bubble would drop, there might be some unpleasant decisions to be made.

But he felt that the questioning wasn't over. Not yet.

Chloe set the tumbler on the table. She wasn't used to drinking alcohol, so she could already feel the familiar buzz in her head. Her muscles relaxed somewhat, and she hoped she was ready to ask the more difficult questions.

„So, you told me that you have some vulnerability issues."

When Lucifer remained silent, she asked, "Care to elaborate on that?"

Lucifer looked at her and met her soft and reassuring gaze. He couldn't lie to her, but he was afraid of the direction of this conversation. He just had to hope that this new information wouldn't overwhelm her.

"I – I'm vulnerable in certain circumstances. I used to be immortal, but it appears that sometimes, I can be – fatally injured." Lucifer chose his words slowly and carefully.

"In certain circumstances?"

"When I'm around you," he said reluctantly.

"Um –

Chloe was stuck.

"When you're around me – meaning – if you're away from me, you're invulnerable."

Lucifer nodded.

"So, you can't be killed by say, a bullet wound, if I was away from you."

Lucifer nodded again.

"Why? Why me?"

"I…I'm not sure."

Her gaze flickered from him to the coffee table then the wall across them as if she could find the answer somewhere in the room. Her forehead furrowed as she tried to put the pieces together.

"Is it connected to the fact that I'm immune to your mojo?" Her eyes widened. "My God, what exactly this mojo-thing is? And why am I immune to it? I always thought it's some kind of parlour trick or something-"

Chloe didn't even notice how desperately she was gesturing; her hands were flailing about, her breathing had sped up, and she would have fallen into hyperventilation –

Lucifer, almost instinctively, caught her hands, mid-motion. She fell silent as he gently pressed her hands, feeling her soft, warm fingers in his own.

"Detective, please. I know – I agreed to answer all your questions, but maybe we should take it a little slow?" he said. His gaze turned down, upon their hands, together. He tried to retract his hand, mortified that she might not like him so near her, but it was too late. Chloe had intertwined her own fingers with his, unconsciously seeking solace in the gesture.

Courage, from those fingers between his own, came to his heart.

"My mojo, as you call it, is my – is a gift from my Father. Every angel has their own gift, a special ability. Some control time, some tap on people's fear; I can draw out everyone deepest desires, dark or otherwise. Things they want, deeply hidden inside them, that they don't voice," Lucifer explained slowly, afraid he might overwhelm Chloe again.

He paused. Chloe waited, choosing not to say anything, ask anything. Lucifer felt emboldened, that she was listening, and the words now come in torrents, almost uncontrollably.

"I didn't know the reason for your immunity to my powers initially. Not until we had that poisoning case. Remember?" When she nodded solemnly, he continued, "After your poisoning, I found out, from my mother, the truth of why you were unaffected by my charms. You…" He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. This was the hardest part. "Tell me, Detective, - had your parents ever told you that they'd had trouble with – uh – having babies, before you were born?"

"Yes, mom and dad often told me that they were about to give up on having kids when my mom got pregnant with me. They used to say it was a miracle," Chloe repeated what her parents had said, going over her memories.

Lucifer chuckled darkly and shook his head.

"They were closer to the truth than they probably thought."

"What do you mean by that?" Chloe asked, and her stomach tightened uncomfortably.

"Amenadiel, at our Father's behest, blessed a couple who couldn't have a child. Penelope and John Decker. Nine months after his visit, you were born. You're a literal miracle, Detective."

Chloe's lips quivered, but she kept her composure.

"Why?" she asked quietly. At Lucifer's questioning look, she elaborated, "Why did he choose my parents?

"I…I'm not sure. But apparently, we were supposed to cross each other's path."

Chloe released Lucifer's hand, leaned back, and stared into space.

"Detective?"

Chloe stared at the ceiling, barely able to hear Lucifer's voice. She'd tuned it all out, only the voice inside her head speaking to her, clear and loud.

This is it – the truth. You are a miracle child. You were put here, to be a part of someone else's destiny. Your choices, your destiny – was all a part of a show, a puppet theatre where strings were being pulled and she was dancing. Maybe you're a tool, or a gift to Lucifer? Or maybe, you're a weapon. To destroy him.

NO!

The thought of being able to destroy or hurt Lucifer hurt her too, and she realised she truly loved him. This was why she'd come here. She'd only had a hint before, that her feelings might be real, but she had no idea that they might be this intense. And now it turned out it was all fake. Her feelings were not her own.

No longer in denial, she progressed to the next stage – anger.

No one had the right to do this to her. No one. How dare they think that what she did, what she thought didn't matter. A tiny part of her was also freaking out that she was getting angry at God, for putting her up as a scheme for manipulating the life of his son.

And then came the pity.

Lucifer – what did he think of her? What do you do when you know someone was born to be in your life?

The waves of pain and anger and hurt were too much, and her brain just stopped processing. She focussed her eyes, finding the scotch bottle in front of her. Picking it up, she slowly but surely brought it to her lips and drank. The scotch burned her throat and almost made her cough, but at the same time, she started to feel the pleasant numbness she yearned for so much.

When she stopped for a moment to breathe between the greed gulps, she felt a gentle pull on her wrist. Lucifer's nimble fingers were holding her lower arm.

Lucifer was stunned when the Detective grabbed the bottle all of a sudden and he stared at her completely frozen while she drank the generous amount of scotch. He hadn't expected to bring the Detective to such a raw, wild state.

So, this was it. He broke her.

When she moved again to take another gulp, Lucifer moved with a protective instinct he himself was unaware of. Not really knowing what to do next, they stared at each other for a few tense seconds.

"Detective, please," he pled, his voice only a whisper. Her gaze went to where he was holding her bottle-wielding arm.

Chloe glared at him. With a loud thud, she slammed the bottle on the table. "Lucifer, I've just learned that I'm a miracle, made to cross paths with you, which means that I'm not in charge of my own life! That I'm just a helpless, will-less puppet in this divine play," she gestured wildly. The alcohol had kicked in sooner than she expected. "I have the right to fall apart!"

She yanked her arm out of Lucifer's loose grip and reached for the bottle again.

"Don't – don't say that," Lucifer said, vehemently.

He understood very well why this new insight was upsetting for the Detective. But he remembered the epiphany that he'd had in his last session with Linda and hoped fervently that he could convey the message to the Detective. Her temporary surprise at his outburst allowed him to continue.

"I thought the same way before," he said, leaning back into the seat. "That all of this was my Father's cruel manipulation. That He stripped us from our free will. It didn't matter that I couldn't choose – but to be wanted by someone without their will… That's why I fled after we'd found the antidote and I'd made sure you were safe. I wanted to give your free will back."

"Then why did you come back?" Chloe raised her chin. "Maybe you didn't have the willpower to stay away?"

The jab hit too low, thought Chloe, as Lucifer's face became a flash and a wave of pain. It changed to fury, but his voice was a little too steady as he replied, "As you recall, I came back married."

"Oh – I remember." Her eyes had started to sting, but she kept staring at him anyway.

For a moment, they stared, no, glared at each other, the emotions kept buried back then – the anger, the betrayal, the weight of secrets – all came pouring out through their eyes, although their lips remained still.

Lucifer realised as the waves of emotions calmed a little that this conversation had taken a little unwanted turn. "Detective," he began, again, gently this time. "It was a fake marriage. It was an arrangement between me and Candy. I helped her escape a loan shark, and she helped me…"

Lucifer trailed off, unable to explain exactly what he'd been planning back then. The complexity of the matter – his mother, for example, who she was, what she did back in Heaven, and on Earth – and where she was now – was a little more difficult to explain.

"I assumed that such a stunt would surely distance you from me, at least, uh – romantically. I thought you'd think of me as an irresponsible person, and – well, I would be able to continue being just your reckless consultant. I thought that would be enough," he said, not meeting her eye. "And you would be free. To choose whoever you would want."

Saying all of these things was not exactly easy for Lucifer. He'd never learned to bare his heart and secrets. Especially to someone who felt things with a passion.

Chloe buried her face in her palms. All of this was too much, too much to process. What did it mean then, that she chose someone, or even rejected Lucifer, back then, even as she sat here now, gravitating towards him? Did she have free will or not?

„And for Dad's sake, I was so stupid."

His last sentence drew her attention again.

"You were indeed born a miracle, and perhaps that's where your immunity to my charms comes from – but the lack of free will, that was just a guess on my part. I never could prove it to myself. But it was too late, by the time Linda convinced me that you were as human as it gets–"

"Wait – Linda? Doctor Linda? She knows?" Chloe interrupted his speech.

"Right, yes. The dear doctor has been in the know for some time now. You should probably talk to her. She could help you…process all of this."

"Hmm…" Chloe nodded, a little absently. The alcohol clouded her mind and too many thoughts were going through her head, but she latched onto the last one she'd had. "Uh – just now, what did you mean? That it was too late? Late for what?"

Lucifer felt caught in an unwanted spotlight. The one thing she'd notice, he thought, was the very thing he wanted to never mention to her. What was the point?

"Nothing, really. I just…" It was one thing to say he had feelings for her back then – and it wasn't a secret that he'd liked her. But to tell her now that those feelings had never really gone away – especially when her choice was clear – would be very difficult. Better that he assumed her rejection than hear it outright. It would shatter him.

Drinking was a familiar coping mechanism for Lucifer, so this time he was the one who reached for the bottle. He didn't bother to pour himself a drink, just lifted the bottle to his lips.

"It's not important," he tried to dodge the topic once he'd finished his drink. But Chloe detected the panic in his eyes: not unlike Trixie when she'd denied eating all of the chocolate cake with crumbs still on her lips – Lucifer was hiding something.

"I think it is," Chloe pressed, but with a calm and kind voice. The daze of alcohol was dissipating a little, and she was waking up to the fact that this interrogation was hurting Lucifer to some extent.

Lucifer tried to hold her gaze, but a moment later, he looked away and got up to the bar once again.

"It – it isn't important because now I know you have free will. You've made your decision. You chose Pierce, and the fact that he died proves that you fell in love with him, and you're free to choose whatever you want."

Pierce.

There was a poignant pause filled with the presence of Marcus Pierce. He'd turned up a lot of storms in their lives – so his death, with all of its plus-minuses, meant something to either of them.

"Did you – Did you know about Pierce?" Chloe asked.

Lucifer's back was turned to her, but her voice was enough to tip him off.

She found out the truth about Pierce.

"You mean, who he truly was?" he asked, wanting to make sure. He turned around to find Chloe standing near the couch. She nodded.

"He was Cain," he said simply. "The world's first murderer, marked by God, cursed to walk the Earth until the end of time."

Chloe nodded again, her gaze accusing.

"So, you knew who he was, and you didn't warn me about it? You let me get close to him!"

"Would you have believed me if I had told you the truth?" he asked, a little irate, but patient all the same.

Her anger seemed to fade a bit. "I…" she started but ended gaping like a fish on the shore.

Lucifer tilted his head to the side and frowned as a thought occurred to him. "But how do you know about him?"

"He left a letter. Well, sort of. He told me about it when he was dying." Chloe spoke, with weight and gravity. Although the truth of Marcus's identity had begun to settle in her head, the fact that he had died to save her would never leave her either.

"Oh," Lucifer considered, and then, said, "Well, in any case, his death is really proof enough that you have free will," he said. He tried to look nonchalant, but Chloe could hear the hurt in his voice. "Of course, the fact that you made independent decisions before my appearance should be proof enough as well. Decisions like marrying Detective Douche. Surely, Detective, if my Father did orchestrate everything, he certainly wouldn't have built in such a foolish decision for you."

Lucifer smirked a little, the corner of his mouth tilted upwards, but even he knew it was an empty laugh.

Despite the gravity of the conversation, Chloe couldn't suppress a small chuckle. A small part of her mind told her that Lucifer was probably right. In spite of her earlier panic, she could feel deep inside that her choices were really hers.

Lucifer wondered if he should tell her the truth, of what Marcus had planned for her. That he was using her love to get rid of his curse. It would break her heart, but in his sense of justice, he felt she deserved the truth. Before he could bring up that conversation, Chloe started it for him.

"He said in his letter – Marcus had a theory about your vulnerability," Chloe said. "He thought you were mortal around me because I loved you." Chloe didn't meet Lucifer's eyes as she spoke. "He thought he could become mortal too if I fell in love with him."

"Yes, well, his death proves that his curse was broken. He ended up becoming mortal. And it also means…

Lucifer didn't say it, but she knew what he wanted to say – You loved him, Chloe, that's why Pierce could die.

Chloe looked at him for a long moment.

"You're wrong," she said finally.

Lucifer stared at her with a confused expression.

"Your theory – yours and Marcus's – it's not – I didn't love him, Lucifer."

Lucifer was taken aback.

"You don't love Pierce?" he half-said, half-questioned. She shook her head.

"But Pierce is dead anyway? How could his curse–"

It hit them both, slowly, but together. He fell in love with Chloe. His love. His choice. His will made a difference in his mortality.

"I didn't love him, Lucifer," Chloe repeated softly.

"You didn't love him." His voice broke, and so did the pressure he was keeping on his emotions. He was shaking with giddiness.

Chloe looked at him, and the glimpse of hope on his face gave her the courage that she needed. She took a step towards him.

"I didn't realize this until yesterday, but when I did, I decided to break up with him. I'd even told Ella about it before I closed the case. I didn't have the chance to go through it though…" She fell silent, remembering the horrible scene at the underground labs.

"I – I don't understand, Detective."

Lucifer had stopped shaking. He was steady, and if she wasn't wrong, his face was cleared of all emotions. "I had thought – that you were both – so sure – like you were Erin and Vincent. That getting me out of your system would strengthen your relationship. I thought that was what you wanted."

He could barely hide the tremble in his voice. An hour ago, he had been ready to go back to Hell, but his world had just turned upside-down again. The Detective hadn't chosen Pierce after all.

But now that she knew his true identity, would she choose the Devil?

It was Chloe's turn to fiddle nervously with her fingers.

"I…I thought I wanted that, but I was wrong. I'm sorry, Lucifer," she fixed her gaze on the floor. Even the alcohol wasn't helping cloud her embarrassment. "I misunderstood those damn dreams," she muttered, absently.

"Come again? What dreams?" Lucifer, on any other occasion, would have loved to insert a dirty joke about wet dreams – but he was too curious and nervous for his head to go there right now.

Chloe turned a shade of red Lucifer had never seen on her face before, confirming his doubt that there was some strange thought going on in her head.

"Well, Detective? Won't you tell me?" he said, coaxingly. "I suppose it's fine if you don't. You haven't promised me answers," he added, knowing he was pushing her. His curiosity, as usual, was driving him.

Chloe looked up, guilt on her face – Lucifer regretted making her feel guilty, and was about to say that it was alright, he didn't need to know – when she began to talk.

"You're right, Lucifer. I – I was hiding something from you. The real reason I wanted to have – have a threesome – it started out because I was having recurring dreams," she admitted, her gaze fixed on a spot on the wall away from Lucifer. "It felt disturbing, and I couldn't explain them… I was in bed with Marcus, and you. Both of you.

"In the beginning, I just tried to forget about them. But when I had uh – similar dreams again, it was – I started to think it might be a repressed desire or something. From uh – before the poisoning when you went AWOL and I – anyway. It still bothered me, I guess, that nothing really came of it back then. And given the case we were working on, it just – made a convoluted sense that if I – consummated my desire, it might go – the dreams might go away."

She risked a glance at him. Lucifer was just staring at her. He was gripping the edge of a bar stool so firmly that his knuckles became white. But his face – it was unreadable.

"I had the last dream just after we…" she cleared her throat, "after Dan's accident. And this time I – uh – I didn't wake up in the middle of it." She was blushing so furiously that it was easy to guess what she meant by that. "But strangely enough, it was the end of the dream that truly terrified me. You both faded away, and I couldn't do anything about it." Her lips trembled slightly as she recalled the dream. "I was confused and just so – lost. So, I talked to Linda. She helped me understand, what I was trying to tell myself, through those dreams. I realised I couldn't have it both ways. It wasn't real. What I felt for Marcus – It was far different than what I felt for – you," she finished.

The Detective took another step forward, and then again, absently, as if she weren't really aware of her moves. She was close to Lucifer, as she stopped, her gaze on the floor, so close he could have opened his arms and circled her waist. He wondered how she couldn't hear his heart; it was so loud he couldn't hear anything else.

"I uh – it took some time, but – but I realised what I wanted. It wasn't easy – it still isn't – I feel like I'm floating in space on a line here, and I don't know what's going to happen, but for once, I knew – I knew what I wanted. Even if I might end up with a broken heart again."

Lucifer's heart exploded – it took him a few moments to honestly believe, that the Detective was saying that she'd chosen him. That despite of all the things that had happened between them, she'd picked him.

An insurmountable wave of joy washed over him and every nerve in his brain went into a frenzy. He couldn't help but stare at her in awe.

Until he noticed a shift in her mood. He'd been standing there, looking at her, his expressions and epiphanies in his own head – and she had misunderstood his silence. She looked at him, her eyes big, and a shade of pain on her face. She was about to walk away from him.

But just a moment before she could withdraw, Lucifer stepped forward and raised his hand to caress her cheek, as if she would evaporate in any moment.

"You won't," he whispered.

Chloe's eyes welled up as her hand mirrored Lucifer's movement, and the corners of her mouth turned up. Her fingers buried into his thick black hair and her thumb swept over his cheekbone gently.

As if an irresistible pull was forcing him, Lucifer leaned forward and closed the small distance between them. His kiss was tentative and chaste at first, but then the Detective's lips parted and caught his lower lip between them. He couldn't help but let out a contented sigh at the new sensation and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Lucifer wanted to savour every tiny caress of her lips, every little sigh, every sweet taste. He could feel the Detective's delicate hand slid up on his arm until her fingers dug into his hair at the nape of his neck.

The kiss, restrained at first, quickly became so passionate that Lucifer felt he couldn't get enough. He didn't know when it happened, but suddenly his waist was being pushed against the bar and the Detective's whole body was pressing against him as he held her tightly at the small of her back.

When his fingers slipped under her blouse and his tongue into her mouth, he knew he was about to lose control. Especially when he felt her hips grinding to his. The Detective deepened the kiss, and her taste was intoxicating. Her mouth tasted like scotch and mint and–

The daze of intimacy that had been in his head sort of cleared, as he tasted the very scotch on her lips that she'd drunk out of recklessness. She was, if not fully, but semi-drunk. It wouldn't be wise for them to become intimate now. He didn't want these precious moments to be dulled by alcohol. Chloe deserved better than that.

He wanted to give himself another moment to enjoy the kiss, the gentle but urging pressure of her body and the caress of her fingers, but he felt her pulling back already, as if she'd just had the same thought.

"Lucifer," she said, her voice breathy. "I…"

"I know," he hurried to reassure her. "As much as I desire to be with you right now and right here, I want you to enjoy and remember every second of the best night of your life," he added with a smug grin to ease the mood.

The Detective rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Well, there's that," she said and pulled back a little bit. "But there's another thing." She bit her lip and averted her gaze.

In a moment of truth, driven by emotion – and partly alcohol –, she had done what she had wanted to the most. But the last few days were coming back to her, the memories that threatened to resurface.

She looked at Lucifer and his slightly broken expression. He was so – she didn't want to say it, but – vulnerable right now, so insecure. She leaned a bit closer, trying to elaborate.

"Lucifer – the last few days, too many things have happened at once. Only a day ago I was with Marcus. Despite of my decision, I never got to tell Marcus that I – and his letter. All the things he said and did… He sacrificed himself for me. And it isn't so easy, just letting that go," she said, a long, heavy sigh escaping her.

Her voice was sombre, and for a moment, Lucifer felt as if somebody hit him with a particularly hard object. He had forgotten about every uncomfortable truth after their lips had met. But right now, he understood her pain. She needed the time to grieve and to process it all. And he would be there, for as long as it took. For the first time in his incredibly long life, he wouldn't muck this up.

With this resolve, he nodded and squeezed her hand slightly.

"I understand," he said and caressed her knuckles with his thumb. "I will be here whenever you're ready."

She smiled at him and let out a relieved sigh. She rose on tiptoes and kissed him again. It was just a gentle peck on his lips, but it conveyed a silent message. A promise of a shared future.

"Thank you, Lucifer," she said after she pulled back and retreated to the elevator. "See you soon."