A/N: Okay, sorry for the wait! This isn't too long, but I feel that I stopped it at a good spot. Enjoy a little insight into Lucifer's thoughts that night. TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of violence, just FYI
He hadn't considered that he would be spending his Friday night standing against the front of a bar, pulled away from everyone else by some uniformed officer. Was this outside of the realm of possibility for him? No. However, he hadn't considered the possibility as he had stepped outside and lit a cigarette. He had heard the shuffle, assuming a couple had stumbled out through the side door and were starting to enjoy their night against the building, but it was the panicked screams that drew him to the alley. When he saw a stout man pressing a woman against the building, clearly against her will, rage had immediately flooded his senses. He wholeheartedly despised men that laid hands on women. Vile creatures completely undeserving of the life they regrettably lived.
It wasn't until he was only a few feet away that he recognized the woman. He had paused for just a second, his breath catching in his throat at the pure terror on her face. She was someone he had thought could easily defend herself, given her past occupation, but she was just cowering, pleading for it to stop. Yanking that sack of shit off her, he threw him to the ground, the feel of that man's face crunch under his hand, over and over again, felt amazing. He had missed this, the violence and the adrenaline rush hitting someone else gave him. He felt his middle finger crack, but that only fueled his onslaught. He felt the slick and hot blood under his knuckled, his skin splitting over previous scars. Such a rush.
Once the slob was motionless, he stopped. He pressed his clean hand into the man's chest, pushing himself back up to a standing position. Coming back down from the high, he looked for her and found her in the same spot she was. He approached her slowly, calling out to her without receiving any acknowledgment. He bent down and noticed how distraught she was. She was shivering, hugging her knees to her chest as if her life depended on it. Her eyes were open but unfocused, as if looking off into space. He gave into the urge to cup her face in his hands, trying to provide some comfort to her, to let her know she was safe. Something was off. While one expects someone to be shaken after being accosted, she seemed undeniably traumatized.
He was taken aback when she slammed her hands down over his, pressing his palms into her cheeks with force. She was muttering to herself, but he couldn't make out anything. He looked into her eyes and he could see she was looking at him, not past him, but right at him. She nodded when he asked if she was okay, but he wanted to say more. Do more. His anxiety was subsided by her friend running towards them. Reluctantly, he released her, stepping aside to allow the much more equipped woman to try and comfort her.
Those were the events that led to his current state of standing, waiting to be talked to by one of the detectives on scene. He remembered the other woman, Ella, he believed, saying something about a "Dan" handling the situation. Perhaps he is who he was waiting to talk to. He was brought out of his thoughts by the EMS gurney rolling past him with that sad, shit-stain of a human being strapped to it. He had overheard the EMT and Paramedics say that he most definitely had an orbital fracture. That had made him smile. Good. Hope his face is fucked up for the rest of his wretched life. They loaded him into the ambulance and drove off, silently, into the night.
Just as he was about to light his fifth cigarette of the hour he saw a man approach him, badge and gun on hip. He was shorter than Lucifer, but stockier, giving off every bit of SoCal detective as he could between his hair and his tight v-neck.
"Lucifer Morningstar, twenty-seven, in the U.S. on a student visa," he stated, reading off of the small notepad in his hands. He stood as if waiting for a response, but Lucifer only slid the cigarette back into the carton and into his pocket. "I'm detective Espinoza with LAPD. Care to tell me what happened here?" he asked once he realized he wasn't going to get anything from the man before him.
Lucifer nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I was standing, pretty much, right here, having a smoke, when I heard a bit of a scuffle coming from the alley. I peaked down, saw a man grabbing at a woman, and I did the sensible thing and pulled him off her," he answered nonchalantly, as if he had been reading off a restaurant menu.
Dan stood there, nodding his head, before grimacing. "Looks like you did a lot more than just pull him off her," he suggested, hands going to his hips. He watched the younger man shrug, a small smirk turning the corners of his mouth. "He's being sent to the hospital."
"Hey, I was just trying to be a Good Samaritan," Lucifer said, holding his hands up in front of him in defense. He watched the detective take a good look at his hand before returning to his notebook.
"Well, not such a Good Samaritan, now are you?" he asks, a knowing tone laced in his words. Lucifer gave him a questioning look as if he had no idea what he was talking about. "Any police records are visible with your student-visa," he offered, exaggerating the flip of a page.
Lucifer's face fell expressionless as he watched the detective pretend to read a list in the notepad. "Your point?" he asked with a flourish of his bloodied hand.
"Seems this isn't the first time you've sent someone to the hospital at a bar," Dan expressed, his eyebrows raising in Lucifer's direction.
"I paid my fine for those," Lucifer stated, a forced smile on his face. His eyes shown with aggravation at the mention. He had paid more than fines for those instances. "I don't see how that matters here."
The detective closed the notebook, sticking into the back pocket of his jeans before looking back at Lucifer. "This time, it doesn't," he said, holding out his hand towards the other man. Lucifer looked at him questioningly, his brows furrowing as he pushed himself away from the wall and accepted the handshake, assessing the strength of it. Firm.
"This time?" he asked, pulling his hand back, shoving both into his trouser pockets. He tilted his head up slightly, keeping the detective in his line of sight while observing the street before him.
"Yeah, I'm not going to charge you with anything," Dan replies, crossing his arms over his stomach. "The woman that was attacked is my ex-wife, mother of my child, former cop. I appreciate what you did." He finished, chewing on his lip. Lucifer could see that he was genuine in his appreciation. The gravity of the situation couldn't keep the thought out of his head, though. Ex-wife? Dan clapped him on his shoulder as he walked back into the alley, a sign that he was free to go. He couldn't walk away, not yet, at least. He stayed put, pulling out the cigarette burning a hole in his slacks to be lit. He inhaled the smoke deeply, letting the nicotine fill his lungs, exhaling the stress away.
Dan approached Chloe and Ella, uniformed officers finishing with their statements. Chloe looked much better. She was no longer cowered on the ground. She was standing tall, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes wide with unease. "Hey, we're all set here," he said, reaching his hand out to rub the top of Chloe's arm. She smiled lightly, trying not to flinch away from his touch. He was just being supportive, but she couldn't help the feeling of wanting to be away from him. From everyone.
"Wait, where's Trixie?" she asked, realizing that he was there and not with their daughter. She held up her hand, waiting for his response. A new wave of panic swept over her.
"I called my mom as soon as Ella called me, she's fine," Dan assured her, taking a step back. He watched her for a second, her eyes closing in relief. "Look, I'm going to keep Trixie this weekend. You go home, relax," he started, but she held up her hand again, interrupting him.
"No, I want to see her," Chloe told him, pinching the bridge of her nose. She just wanted to go home, take a scalding shower and get the stench of that man off of her. She didn't want to keep being reminded of him.
"Chloe, after what happened a few months ago, and tonight, you should just focus on you," Dan tried to reason, only good intentions in his heart. She knew that. She knew he was just looking out for her, but she didn't care. She wanted to spend the weekend cuddling her daughter and watching TV.
"No, I want her with me," she asserted, giving him a hard look. Defeated, Dan agreed, nodding before rubbing her upper arm, again, bidding the two women goodnight.
Once Dan was out of earshot, Ella turned to face her, giving her a small smile. "Can I drive you home? I'll have one of the uniforms drive your car to your house for you."
Chloe thought about it. She really just wanted to get home, but she also didn't feel ready to drive. Her hands were still shaking and every time she blinked events from a few months ago flashed in her vision. She nodded, licking her lips and grabbing her bag from her friend. Ella's smile grew at the agreement, thinking she would have to fight her on it.
They walked out of the alley, starting towards the street in search of Ella's car. She saw a plume of smoke to her right and she turned. His face faded back into view through the smoke, and he was looking right at her. A bloody hand pulled the cigarette from between his lips, letting it burn by his side. She wanted to say something, but her legs would not move. She opted for a small wave, her fingers lifting off of their grip on her arm. She tried to smile, but she knew it didn't come off right, but he accepted it anyway. He nodded his head, a sad smile pulling at his lips before he ducked his head, turned, and walked away. Chloe let out the breath she was holding and found Ella waiting for her by her car.
She let the too-hot water burn her skin, the honey color replaced by pink. She had scrubbed her skin raw over the last twenty minutes, her arms and chest taking the worst of it because that's what he had grabbed. As soon as Ella had dropped her off, she ran and got in the shower. Letting the water wash away the stink of the evening, she washed and washed, until she ran out of hot water.
She had tried to sleep, but, aside from a few instances of dozing and waking abruptly, sleep had not come to her. The events from months ago kept replaying in her head. Being in that alley had reminded her of what it was like in that warehouse, dark and isolated. The crunch of glass beneath her boots as she stealthily walked through the halls and rooms, searching for the suspect of multiple homicides. He was dangerous, she had known that, but all she could think about was the wake of murder he left behind him. She wanted it to stop, so she went in after the lead, and that decision led to her life changing completely.
She slid on a t-shirt and sweats, walking down stairs to make coffee and wait for Dan to drop Trixie off. He had texted her saying he would bring her by 10:00 this morning, so she had an hour left to wait. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with her daughter and snuggle all weekend. Maybe they would go get ice cream or more chocolate cake. The hot coffee slid down her throat, burning its normal comforting embrace into her stomach and warming her soul with every sip.
Surprisingly punctual, the doorbell rang at 10:00 before Trixie ran through the door. Even though he had a key, Dan always informed her of his presence before he barged in. He understood their boundaries, mostly, and she was grateful for that.
"Mommy!" Trixie screamed, running into her mother's arms, huge smile on her face.
"Hey, monkey," Chloe greeted, an endearing sigh as she hugged the little girl tightly. She looked up from her crouched position to see Dan standing in front of her, a small smile on his face, but she could tell there was something else. "Hey, what's up?" she asked him, standing up one free from Trixie's arms.
"Trix, why don't you go draw mommy a picture?" Dan asked, all smiles for his daughter. The little girl grinned ear to ear and took off towards the table. "How are you doing?" he asked, sincere and serious.
Chloe tried to stay neutral, but she really didn't want to talk about anything. "I'm fine, Dan. Thank you. For everything," she added, hoping he knew she was talking about his discretion. He really was a good guy, they just weren't good for each other.
"Um, I was just wanting to ask you," he started, clearly looking a little uncomfortable, and unsure of how to go about asking his question. "Ella mentioned something about that guy, um, the one that helped you."
Chloe looked at him, a momentary feeling of worry spread through her, but it was quickly washed away. There was nothing to worry about, there was nothing to feel about it. "Yeah? What about him?"
"Well, she said that he knew you, that he's a student," he finished, the sentence an almost-question. She recognized the look on his face: the look of thinking he understood what was going on.
"What are you trying to say, Dan?" she asked, her arms crossing over her chest defensively. She was getting mad now.
"Nothing, Chlo-," he started, his hands coming up as he took a step towards her. She took a step back, irritation apparent on her face. She hated that nickname.
"No, what are you trying to say? You think I was meeting a student there? Really?" She asked, hurt clear on her features. How could he think that of her? Plus, he had no right to ask that question. "I don't control where students go, Dan. I met Ella there and he just happened to be there." She didn't need to explain herself, but she felt it prudent to do so.
"Okay, okay," he stammered, his face darkening. "It's just, he has a record. He's dangerous," he continued, as if trying to persuade her that he was a bad idea.
"He's a student," Chloe stated pointedly, making every word clear. "I don't care about what he's done." She finished sternly. She couldn't believe that this is the line of questioning Dan chose to follow. She was pissed, but she knew that any ex-husband would ask that if they found out the guy defending their ex wasn't a stranger. Especially one that looked like that.
"Okay, I'm sorry," he said, looking right at her. She turned around to see Trixie drawing furiously onto a sheet of paper. "Weird name, though."
She turned back to face him, his eyebrow up, waiting for her to agree. She laughed a little, a puff of air blowing on a strand of hair near her mouth. "Yeah," she agreed, a smile starting to form on her lips again.
Dan left soon after their little chat about Lucifer, leaving Chloe to cuddle and watch multiple Disney movies between snack breaks and chocolate cake hunting adventures. Her whole weekend was revolved around being with Trixie, and savoring every second of it, allowing the happy squeals of the girl drown out her memories of her own screams.
She gave it the weekend. She did nothing all weekend work-related. Not that she had that much to do, but Monday was for meetings, office hours, as well as some much needed time-away-from-home time. She would need to make sure the students knew her office hours, when they would be sure to find her on campus. She had given them her cell in the syllabus, knowing that not a single one of them had seen it. That was the new thing these days, giving your cell number to a bunch of budding adults hoping that the familiarity of technical communication would urge them to come to her with questions.
Her office smelled stale. She was never in it long enough to make it smell used. She should get an air freshener. Candles were strictly forbidden on campus. I guess one too many drunk college kids have lit something on fire. Perhaps a tropical scent, coconut-y. Make her feel like she's on a little vacation, sipping piña coladas on the beach. Or maybe one of those tobacco bourbon scents. It would, at least, smell more professional. However, the dust scent would have to do today.
She opened her lap top, the work one, the administration does not need to know the extent of her browsing history. Not that it's bad, but everyone needs their secrets. Once logged in she could see the absurd number of emails she had. This school was insane when it came to emails. She had about twenty come in over the weekend. It was all shit. Shit she didn't need to know about. She went about mindlessly clicking through, just making sure it was obsolete, and deleting them. The email regarding the criminal justice department dinner was interesting, especially since it "seriously suggested" all faculty in that department should attend. Wonderful.
She sighed once all of the irrelevant emails were gone. She needed more coffee if she was going to survive those meetings in a few hours. She left her office and headed towards the reliable coffee cart that was always there. She had grown to love seeing that little cart, knowing it held the key to her caffeine-addicted heart. There were a few people in line, but it was worth the wait. She stood behind a few girls and one guy that reeked of beer and weed. Lovely. As she waited she tried to decide between a regular cream with sugar or a vanilla latte, she very rarely chose anything else.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor," a smooth, velvety voice whispered by her ear. It caught her off guard and she nearly dropped her wallet as she jumped, startled.
"Shit," she breathed, holding her hand to her chest as she turned around, her eyes wide while his expression was amused. She took the moment of recovery to notice what he was wearing. He was in a dark maroon suit with a charcoal grey shirt. Dressed to the nines for a Monday morning at school.
"I didn't meant to startle you," he laughed lightly, his hands going into his pockets. She noticed that he never carried anything. Never had a laptop or a notebook, never a textbook. Seems he just absorbed information through osmosis.
"It's fine," Chloe said, her breathing coming back to normal. He always had the best smiles, one that made everyone else want to smile, as well. She could see he wanted to say something. His lips kept twitching but he stopped himself every time. "I wanted to thank you," she started, dropping the level of her voice down so only he could hear her.
Lucifer shook his head, his expression turning serious. "No thanks necessary," he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets. Chloe watched him and she could see that the middle finger on his right hand was swollen and bruised, his knuckles slightly red with small cuts on them. He noticed her observation and stretched out his hand, as best he could. "It's nothing, really."
"Is it broken?" Chloe asked, her voice quiet. She appreciated his nonchalance about it. He wasn't treating her like some pathetic victim, instead, he just seemed compassionate.
"Just the finger. I've had worse," he replied, stretching the hand one more time to show it wasn't horrible. "You could kiss it to make it better," he suggested, taking away all seriousness and applying an exaggerated pouty expression on his face.
Chloe stood there, her mouth open, but the corners turned up slightly. She just couldn't believe how absolutely shameless this guy was with the flirting. "You are unbelievable," she laughed out, shaking her head at him. All he could do was smile, and she found that, strangely, endearing.
"Worth a shot," he explained, shrugging his shoulders, the material of his shirt rippling across his chest. "You could buy me a drink, since you feel like thanking me." He placed his hands back in his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. He turned his head down and looked back up at her through black lashes.
For the second time in seconds he had forced her jaw to hit the floor. Could he actually be serious? She stepped forward, still unsure of how she should answer him. "Are you serious right now? Did you just ask me out?" She wasn't angry, but she was baffled. The balls on this guy (no, don't think about that).
"No, I was suggesting you take me out and repay my heroics with a drink," he retorted, his typical smug grin on his face. He watched her look at him as if he had a second head before stepping up and ordering her coffee. She stepped to the side, letting him order his own.
Chloe took her coffee as Lucifer stood to the side, waiting on his own. Before he could pay, she quickly handed the barista a crumpled $10. "I've got his, too," she said, turning to smile at him. She leaned in a bit closer so she could whisper to him. "There's your drink."
The expression on his face was priceless: it was somewhere between awe and smug. "Touché, Professor," he responded as he took his coffee from the cart's counter.
Chloe huffed out a laugh, a warm smile on her face as she started to walk back to her office. "Okay, have a good day Mr. Morningstar."
Lucifer took a step, lightly grabbing her elbow to stop her. His touch was light but purposed, his expression back to somber. "I had wanted to talk to you, that night, but it didn't seem right," he started, his voice deep and low. "How are you?"
He had held on to her elbow for a few seconds and she watched as he took a step closer so he was looking down at her, without making her feel small or intimidated. She could tell he was genuinely concerned, and the closeness was just to keep things quiet, or to gauge her expressions. "Yeah, I'm okay," she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. A small part of her had hoped he would just remain his light, humorous self, but she didn't mind his question. "I'll be fine."
"Okay," he said quickly, nodding. She could tell he didn't believe her, but he accepted her answer. She was beyond grateful for that, for not trying to pry into her answer. He bit his lip, turning the paper cup in his hand and staring at the ground. "Well, I'll let you get back to your day, Professor," he said, lifting his free hand to give her a small wave. "Thank you for the coffee."
"Don't mention it," she responded, watching him walk away towards the other side of campus. She shook her head, puzzled by the enigma of a man walking away. She went back to her office to prepare for her meetings in a much better mood than she had been when she left.
Lucifer walked quickly to where he needed to be. The criminal justice department was on the other side of campus from where the business administration department was. Reading the syllabus, he knew that she had office hours today, as well as Wednesday, but it was a surprise to see her at the coffee cart. He just couldn't let that opportunity slip. He sipped his coffee as he walked, groaning into the cup. This was the best damned coffee he'd ever had.
A/N: So, what did you think? Let me know, please! I love to read your reviews! They make my day! I hope you liked that little interaction. I thought it was cute :) Until next time...
Also! In my rush to get this out for you guys, I forgot to give credit to Agusai for the coffee scene! Thank you! I'm glad it worked out! PS: Sorry for not putting this in sooner!