"I always wondered how the tour of nightlife in your company would look like, Detective. Now that comes as a surprise," stated Lucifer eyeing the club in front of which Chloe parked the car.

It was a very lousy club.

Nothing like the high-end LUX, this place reminded rather of a cheap disco. The outside walls covered with graffiti, the dirty pavement in front of it and big dingy metal doors were completed by the flickering neon "Roxy" and two unpleasantly looking bouncers guarding the entrance.

"We are not here for the nightlife, Lucifer. We are working," replied the detective, unabashed. She decided to start searching for clues from "Roxy", because they had a reliable informer here, a barman, who used to be involved in dealing himself and therefore might have had leads about the new drug appearing in the city.

At the moment she barely listened to her partner, more concerned about his appearance. In his designer suit, he would stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. And, most probably, he would cause the brawl as soon as he opens his mouths and starts to insult the patrons with his British superiority. However, the detective was very goal-oriented tonight and determined to be optimistic.

"Stay close to me, watch your pockets and do not talk too much," she advised, heading for the entrance and reached for her badge to show it to the brawlers. Yet, before she even managed to retrieve it, they stepped back and one of them opened the door, his gloomy face cracking into something that could probably be considered as a smile.

Confused by the unexpectedly friendly welcome, the detective furrowed her eyebrows and slowly turned back to look at her partner.

"I told you that I am surprised by your choice, not that I haven't been here before," Lucifer shrugged his shoulders with an innocent expression. "Now, who are we looking for?"

"Robert Stenson, the barman," replied shortly Chloe, heading for the bar.

The club was already crowded, the music loud and the air stiffy with the stench of bodies and alcohol. There were no strippers, but a few working girls were circling around the room, searching for clients. Most of the guests looked as if they have already served the sentence at least once – or were in the right direction to do it in the nearest future. The detective for a moment wondered, what Lucifer could have done in a place like this.

Somewhere here halfway to the bar Lucifer overtook her and when she joined him, was already greeting the barman.

"Hello, Bobby."

"Good evening, Mr Morninstar. Nice to see you again," greeted him Bobby, or rather Robert Stenson according to the LAPD files. "What can I get you and your charming companion tonight?"

The man bowed slightly in her direction with a smile, that didn't fully mask certain surprise in his face. Apparently, she didn't fulfil the standards of Lucifer's usual 'charming companions'.

"Information," the detective said sharply, slamming her badge a bit too abruptly at the counter.

Bobby moved his eyes to Lucifer, who sighed and shook his head.

"She is no fun," he complained, leaning himself over the bar.

"No, definitely no fun. Have you heard about the drug… the substance named the Death's Door?" asked the detective, sending Bobby her most 'police' glance.

"Just enough to keep away from it," the barman shrugged his shoulders

"I need to find the dealer who is selling this."

"But you got them," Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "SWAT raided the whole lab."

"Someone is selling it again," the detective narrowed her eyes, measuring the man with a scrutinizing glance. Bobby was indeed well-informed. He must have heard something.

"Not here. Not in the clubs."

"Bobby, my friend, things shouldn't be half-done," observed casually Lucifer. "Since you already are the snitch, then snitch."

The detective for a moment wondered, how comfortably her partner looked in such a sordid place. Graceful as usual, he leant over the counter, carefully avoiding the remains of the spilt beer and looked around, examining the space around him with his dark eyes. There was no shadow of superiority in his expression. On the contrary, he appeared content and satisfied.

The devil in the den od inequity, thought the detective with a certain amusement. Well, she had to admit, that Lucifer didn't stand out. On the contrary, he looked very much in place.

He always looks in place, she realized with certain surprise.

"Mr Stenson, if you heard something, you better share it now," she said, returning her attention to the barman.

Bobby sighed and looked around with discomfort.

"There was a guy, trying to sell… something. But there was a rumour, that it was… unchecked. You know, we are kind of old school here, we do not experiment," he pointed at his clients. Chloe raised her eyebrows. The old school looked more like the band of thugs freshly released from prison. "And it is not that anyone can sell anything just like that," finished Bobby lamely, but the detective understood.

"So, you mean that the local dealer chased away the guy who tried to sell the substance we are searching for," she specified. "Where did he go?"

"I have no idea," replied Bobby, but then shook his head again and added, biting his lips: "Perhaps you should ask in some places where kids are coming. Like with the slot machines, you know."

"Yes, I do. I do know," the detective nodded. "Thank you, Bobby." Now, that was a point to start, probably a relevant one. If the unknown dealer could not make a profit here, he wouldn't certainly do it, not search for buyers among the underages.

As soon as the conversation was finished, Bobby stepped aside, eager to distance himself from her and her badge. However, he didn't leave, only leant toward her partner. "Mr Morningstar, can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Hm?... Just do not try to sell me anything. What you provided the last time was more apt to baking cookies, with all that soda," observed Lucifer. "Unless it is about something else?..." his black eyes flashed with interest and he turned toward Bobby, focusing his attention on the barman.

"Yes, it is… I mean, it is not about selling," stuttered the man, sending anxious glance at Chloe's direction. "I just… need a favour."

Chloe felt a bit awkward. She had enough on her head right now, she didn't need to learn that – despite what stood in his files - Stenson was not still dealing. And she preferred not to hear the details of this… favour. On the other hand, there was no reason why she would not let Lucifer talk with this man. That was not illegal. She shrugged her shoulders and - just in case - stepped away from the counter, in order not to hear the conversation.

She found herself in the middle of the room. This time she felt a few hostile glances of the patrons. They must have seen her badge. She stood more confidently, pushing the tail of her jacket aside, so that her badge and gun were better visible, and looked around, making sure to meet the sight of the men staring at her.

Most of them lowered their eyes, but some didn't.

The conversations were getting quieter and the air somehow thicker.

Well, the detective didn't mind some staring contest. And if anyone tried anything, she could wipe the floor with him, why not. She raised her chin trying to make the best of her not that impressive hight and hooked her fingers over her belt, trying to spot among the crowd the most probable troublemakers and intimidate them with a scolding glance.

"I have finished," said Lucifer, nearing to her. He stopped, looked around, taking in the hostile mood in the room and… embraced her shoulders, heading toward the door. "Let's go."

For a second, Chloe froze, startled by the crossing of her personal limits. He never did that before. He used to touch her elbow, or her arm, to draw her attention, or lead her, by putting the hand on the small of her back, but never before did he embrace her in such protective gesture.

Besides, it wasn't simply protective. She couldn't miss the way he looked around with narrowed eyes and slight challenge in his eyes, simultaneously pulling her closer, when they were passing by the clients, everything in him sending one message. 'Mine'.

The detective wasn't going to make a scene in the club, so he let him lead her outside. However, as soon as they exited, she said coldly: "That was unprofessional."

"What, that I made a deal with Bobby, or that he gave me samples of his new stuff?" Lucifer asked shrugging his shoulders. "There is nothing to fuss about. He didn't need anything illegal. And I just want to check whether his new shipment is better than usual."

The detective frowned. No, he wasn't teasing her. When they left the club, he simply removed his hand from his shoulders and acted naturally. Apparently, he didn't even acknowledge the way he behaved. He did it unwittingly, without really paying attention.

Well then, perhaps there was indeed nothing to fuss about, even of her breath was still a bit quickened.

"Just do not gather any more samples," she said only.

"I see we are constantly lowering our standards," observed Lucifer, when few hours later Chloe pulled the car in front of 'Pekin'. It was the fourth pub with disco music and slot machines they visited this night. The investigation in the previous ones brought no results but worsening the humour of both of them.

The detective was getting sadder and sadder after each visit to the pubs filled with young people, mostly teens. Her heart clenched at the thought, that so many kids have nothing batter to do than waste their time in such dirty and ugly places. Simultaneously she started to think, that if she fails as a parent, in a few years Trixie might be one of these kids, searching for ersatz of closeness in some crappy pub, trusting her health in the hands of scruples dealers.

"It is a waste of time," snorted Lucifer. His good humour was also long gone and forgotten somewhere between squalid slot machines and lots of drunken kids. His impatience grew with each futile conversation. He stopped joking and followed Chloe sulking like a hailstorm cloud. In the last place, he was by a hairs breath by manhandling the impudent informant and Chloe felt, that next time she would have even more problems with holding his temper in control. At some point she even asked him to leave and let her finish the tour alone, but he quite brusquely refused and didn't release her arm until they left the location, proving that his new-found protectiveness was not the one-time incident, but rather a developing trend.

"I have no better idea, do you?" snapped the detective sharper than intended. Her partner didn't grace her with an answer, only sent her heavy glance and headed for the pub.

"We are searching for Frank Bowels," explained Chloe. "Ah, here is he," she pointed at the burly man standing under the wall with slot machines, watching the games. The detective knew this man quite well, having used him as the informant in a few investigations. Bowels was a clever, impudent hustler. If he found it profitable, he provided useful information, but the detective hated him for the way he was staring at her. It made her feel as if some filth was sticking to her body.

Frank Bowels at her sight grimaced and sighed heavily: "You again, Sweetie? Haven't we seen last month? Just do not show your badge here. I do not want to be known as the one who makes friends with the cops." He measured her with his usual leering glance and stopped only to cast a curious glance at Lucifer. "Let's get somewhere more private," he proposed, pointing the way to the pack of the pub.

The detective could almost physically feel Lucifer's irritation.

"I am leading this conversation," she warned her partner when they were following Bowels. "Do not interfere."

"Very well," agreed coldly Lucifer. "The last thing I want to learn are this man's desires," he stated with disgust.

They stopped in a small, secluded passage.

"What is it now, Sweetie?" asked Bowels, crooking his head as if he wanted to look under the neckline of her blouse. "Ask your questions."

"Have you heard about the drug named Death's Door?" the detective asked straightaway, eager to make the conversations as brief as possible. Lucifer, as promised, remained silent behind.

"It is off the market. Your guys closed the lab."

"Someone is selling it again. And he is targeting the kids. Teenagers."

"What's wrong in the little entertainment? The kids are only searching for some fun, Sweetie."

Chloe heard Lucifer shifting behind her.

"Entertainment?..." he asked quietly. Something was hiding in his tone made the hair on Chloe's neck rise.

"Speak, Bowers," the detective said angrily, stepped slightly in front of her partner, to underline, that she is the one interacting with Bowels. "Too many of these kids are now at the hospital so that I would let you joke now. If you know anything, speak."

"Some incentive, Sweetie?" drawled Bowels, evidently in the mood to banter.

"Detective, let me… provide him with an incentive," whispered Lucifer. The detective turned back to look at him. His eyes were transfixed in Bowels and he was so tense that Chloe half expected the air around him to crackle with electricity.

"Lucifer," she warned. "Do not".

"He knows something," stated her partner, more to himself than to her.

"Lucifer," she repeated, but she realized it was too late, something in him snapped. With this unsettling, inhuman speed, he stepped in front of her, grabbed Bowels' shirt and pressed him to the wall. Chloe gasped and for a second closed her eyes. Good luck with trying to stop Lucifer now, once he crossed the threshold of his anger. At least, he was grasping Bowels shirt, not throat. The detective decided not to intervene for a while. She stepped back, leant over the wall and rubbed her forehead, waiting for her partner to handle the situation in his way.

"Listen, you pitiful creature," hissed Lucifer, leaning over the man in his grasp. "I could show you… entertainment. I know what kind of entertainment awaits for such lot like you… in the beyond… At the moment, I would very much prefer to see you get what you deserve… rather sooner than later. So, if there is any way that you can prove yourself useful," Lucifer took a breath and concluded quietly, accenting each word, "do it quickly."

Frank Bowels stared at Lucifer agape, so petrified with fear, that he didn't even try to free from his grasp.

"Speak," ordered Lucifer.

"I only heard that some idiot was trying to sell it," Bowels now started to speak so quickly that he was swallowing the consonants. "A new guy, none of the dealers. He needed money. Told the stuff was worth much more, and that it was an occasion. He found some curious kids, who bought it. That's all. I do not even know where they took it. Not here. I swear. "

"The name? Where do we find him?" demanded Chloe, turning toward Bowels again. She looked with anxiety at Lucifer's hand, but he was still grasping only Bowels' shirt, not causing him any physical harm.

"I don't know. I have no idea," sobbed Frank.

"Can you contact him?"

"I do not know how."

"Let him go," Chloe said to her partner. "Lucifer, let him go," she repeated a bit stronger.

Very slowly, Lucifer released the grasp on the Bowels' shirt and the man slumped on the ground, shaking. For a moment, Chloe wondered why exactly was he so terrified. After all, the man with his past shouldn't get broken with a few threats.

Unless there was something more in Lucifer's… persuasion powers, something she yet remained unaware of.

"Frank," she said as calmly, as she could, "if you happen to meet this man again, help us to get him. Ask him to bring more of his stuff, make an appointment, let us know… You know how to do it, right?"

Bowels raised the head in her direction, but his eyes were unfocused, running wildly around.

"Do you understand, what I am asking you about?" the detective repeated more impatiently.

"Yes," nodded the man, but remained distracted. "Yes, I will try." He made a small move, but not to stand up, only to crawl back to distance himself from Lucifer.

Chloe sighed, realizing that Frank Bowels, despite his promise, would do anything to avoid the next meeting with her partner. Most probably he would leave the city as soon as possible.

"Let's go," she said angrily to Lucifer and turned away, heading to the exit. "You scared him," she accused when they were outside. "How?" she wondered aloud, trying to replay the scene from the passage in her mind.

"I showed him a bit of his possible future," replied Lucifer, shrugging his shoulders and proceeded casually toward the car.

Great. Just another enigmatic answer. As if it explained anything. Now it was Chloe's turn to feel her temper taking better of her.

"Well then, perhaps you should have thought twice about it because now he is too terrified to cooperate."

"Because you were making such great progress on your own," snorted Lucifer and that was all that Chloe needed to snap.

"I have just got the nearest I could to the man who sells this shit!" she yelled, not caring that they are standing in the middle of the parking. "Bowels saw him! Spoke to him! If you didn't break him, I would use him to set a trap!"

"Bowels told you about this man only after I, how you called it, broke him," observed angrily Lucifer and Chloe bridled with irritation, realizing he was right. "But I assure you, Detective, I merely… grazed him. If I wanted to break him, I could do so much more… And he would deserve it all," concluded Lucifer and turned to the car to open the door.

Right. Because that, as usual, justifies everything. These were bad people and they deserved it. Chloe almost boiled with fury, heaving heard the too familiar explanation, and shouted:

"Oh, you are such a hypocrite!"

Lucifer turned to her like a streak.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked quietly and even in the dark she saw how dark his eyes were.

For a second, the detective regretted her words. Perhaps it was unwise to quarrel with him when he still didn't fully calm down after the confrontation with Bowels… perhaps she shouldn't question his sincerity, he was so obsessed about… but no. She couldn't afford to be afraid of Lucifer. They were partners, she needed to be able to speak her mind to him, always and ever.

She made a step toward him, to show she was ready to confront him and said, accusatory tone clear in her voice:

"You accept Robert Stenson. You know him, you joke with him, you make deals with him… And then, all of a sudden, you despise of Bowels. What's the difference?"

"Fundamental!" Lucifer replied immediately, without much thinking. Only after a few seconds, when the detective didn't move, he added with some consideration:

"Free will."

Chloe laughed mirthlessly. "I see that according to you, free will covers most questions. Well, you need to elaborate it for my sake."

Lucifer shifted, looking around as if searching for inspiration. Then for a while, he fidgeted with his cufflinks, until finally, he started to speak.

"Stenson knows what he is selling and his customers know what they are buying. Bowels doesn't mind the kids in his pub take every poison that would provide him with a commission from the dealer," he snorted scornfully. "None of these young people wanted to end in the hospital with brain damage, in a coma. They… they didn't know. They weren't… informed. You need to be… adequately informed, to make decisions, using your free will."

The detective shook her head. "That's the most twisted line of thinking I have ever heard."

"On the contrary, Detective, it is very simple. These are your laws that are twisted."

Our laws? Our?... Chloe almost gasped, indignant how easily he distanced himself from what she treated as the absolute imperative. She felt that conversation is getting out of control, spiralling in the very wrong direction. However, she couldn't leave him with the last word… especially like this. "Our laws?" she repeated with narrowed eyes and searched for the most suitable way to show him the error in his thinking. "And what about your deals? Your favours? Are your partners always… adequately informed what exactly they would get?"

She always felt there was something more in the deals, something that remained unspoken and unnamed, but that was the quintessential – and most important – part of them. She hit well, because Lucifer at first inhaled sharply, his eyes full of indignation as if he heard the worst insult, but then – stepped back and for a moment run his eyes aside.

"They always get what they asked for," he replied stiffly. It sounded defensive.

"That's it? 'They get what they asked for 'full stop'?" pressed Chloe. "Or is there something more, after this full stop?"

Lucifer tormented his cufflinks once again. "Sometimes there are be consequences," he admitted after a while.

"I bet there are always consequences. But you do not care to explain them, right? To let everyone made 'an informed choice'," snorted Chloe, so angry, that she even tried to mock his accent.

"Darling, you expect too much from me," hissed Lucifer. "I am nobody's guardian angel only the fallen one."

The detective threw her arms in the air in exasperation. Of course, when he lacked substantial arguments, he escaped into his metaphors.

"I am not going to talk with you like this," she retorted and sat in the car, slamming the door. She was still shivering with anger and the keys slipped from her hands, falling somewhere on the floor. For a long while, she struggled in vain to feel them in darkness.

In the meantime, Lucifer took place on the passenger seat and for a moment observed her futile efforts, until he reached the switch and lit the lamp in the car.

"Better?" he asked dryly.

Chloe froze. All of a sudden, the reminiscences of the dream she had this morning overwhelmed her. That was almost exactly what he said in her dream, in this friendly white light securing them.

In that dream in which she hoped he would perhaps kiss her.

They shouldn't quarrel. They were on the same side, after all. They were partners.

She spotted the keys, slowly raised them and straightened. "Yes. Thank you. And I am sorry. I didn't intend to offend you. I know you are always true to your word," she said honestly, finding her anger dispersed somehow. "I am simply tired."

Lucifer's expression immediately softened. He was so very eager to accept the reconciliatory gesture, that Chloe felt almost guilty. "And I might have been a bit too impulsive. I am sorry if I overstepped," he said gently

"You didn't," replied the detective. It was true. After all, he didn't hurt Bowels. And he didn't even raise the voice at her, though she questioned his integrity, the feature he was so sensitive about. She looked at him smiling apologizingly and he smiled back, his eyes as warm and caring as in her dream.

And then, suddenly, she recalled also this inexplicable sense of dread from her dream, of something terrible bound to happen...

Chloe averted her eyes, starting the engine. Well, she certainly didn't find him 'repulsive' as she said once, anymore. However, the time when she couls honestly say 'You do not scare me' was long gone either.