Author's notes:
I must say, this is one of my favorite chapters. X) Dunno why, it's… an overall feeling, all partnership like old times, all the feelings and dialogues. Real fun to write, really.
Maybe for its end, too (nope, not spoiling!) X)
Music (for the end of the chap)
'Fuck, I'm lonely' | Lauv, Anne Marie
HONORARY MASTURBATION
3
Directors offices all look alike.
From the office of the headmaster to that of the dean of faculty, from the smallest spheres of education to those of help centres for young people in difficulty; each time there is the uniformity of power from a single person, for each place - whatever it is.
"Why did you need to talk with Ella?" Chloe asks as she meanders past the many pictures on the wall, self-congratulations forever frozen in a frame.
"Will you tell me what your talk with Daniel was all about?"
She turns around, watching Lucifer pick up and play with one trophy after another at the other side of this pontificating office of altruism. He stops at a voluminous cup, which almost eclipses the other honorary rewards around, before meeting her gaze.
Chloe shrugs, returning to her own contemplation - albeit less touchy than his - of the various pictures and certificates. A way like any other to hide her embarrassment, the painful feeling left by Dan's comments earlier.
His rightful queen.
"Nonsense, for the most part."
"Can't say that I'm surprised."
"He's just—" she sighs, shaking her head.
"—a douche?" he finishes for her.
She looks at him, her lips hardly struggling against his teasing tone. Instead, she gives him a half-cold, half-amused expression. "'Concerned", Lucifer."
"How could he not be - I ravished you for him, didn't I?"
He smiles at her.
From his victorious smile comes this spark of desire that has rarely left her for two weeks. Of course, it had barely died out during his long absence, but the absence itself changed many things. Having him standing right before her, in the flesh, man and Devil, changes a lot of things.
Like her relationship with Dan, for starters.
It didn't get better after her strange, incomprehensible and dangerous request to make up what happened in the Mayan church into a collective suicide. She thinks sometimes of how it could have gone differently, in a more ignorant context for her. If Lucifer had asked her this while she was unaware of the most important - and also the most obvious - part of his identity... would she have done it without question?
Would she have done it for Dan?
He did, for her.
He got his hands dirty because she asked him to.
And she...
Lucifer stands before her now, as much proud he can be to have won her heart, waiting to win her body as well. Speaking of which, she does notice how close his body is from hers. Still this hand wearing this ring, which is playing with the gold trophy. Still this neck given to her gaze, the white collar opened on it, how his skin quivers with each of his breaths. His stubble meticulously tamed, in opposition of the wild charm he's spreading around.
What are they waiting for?
What is she waiting for?
Chloe blinks several times and gulps, waiting for the desire to pass, waiting for its lessening, at best. It never passes.
Murder. Case. Focus.
"Technically, I don't belong to anyone," she says, taking the trophy from his hands with a disapproving glare. "There was no one to 'ravish' me from."
"To which Daniel has had quite a hard time to understand, hasn't he?" he insists.
She arches an eyebrow. "Like you with 'good manners', you mean?"
"Well, it's no different than sex, Detective - it takes two to make it work."
Lucifer frowns, a gleam - both naughty and amused - passing through his gaze. "Not my best analogy, is it?"
Images cross her mind. Her fingers tighten their grip around the handle of the cup.
Damn it.
Murder. Case.
Despite everything, despite herself, she replies with the same expression; "I heard the Devil's stamina was unchallenged so far... Looks like I was wrong."
"Even the impossible has its limits, Detective. I can't dispel my true nature for long."
Impossible. True nature.
These words echo within her like the end of what they have, the crazed countdown to the time they have left. Never enough, never for long enough.
But he's here. In the flesh, man and Devil, both fallible in their good manners.
"I know. And that's not what I'm asking you for here."
"Sounds like a 'but' is coming."
"But Dan…" she continues, putting the cup where he found it, looking for some rest for her thoughts, for her worries in general. "Dan helped me a lot when— Well, you know when."
She can't talk about it, not really since the last time. Hell was a vast, distant subject, but his departure down there stays... complicated to abroach. Probably because his way of seeing things isn't hers yet, that talking about it won't yet be able to change this. A departure stays one, one too many in her thoughts, in her life.
It's too much, too early to talk about it again.
He's here.
"I do, indeed," he says at her back.
Chloe turns back to him, one hand placed on the trophy cabinet. As she often catches him doing so - more often than before his painful departure - Lucifer tries to delude her about his true feelings with a smile.
"So I… bluffed."
A lie, despite everything. He's lying despite himself.
The truth is that he is no more ready than she is to approach this subject again. They should come back to it at some point, though. But not now.
Not now.
Two weeks of 'not now'; it's not that long, is it?
"Sorry, I didn't want to bring that back up again," she apologizes as she comes back to him. "I just don't know how to act with Dan, to make him accept the situation."
She sighs.
"It got so complicated so fast…."
His smile, pretending to show how he's not affected at all so far, starts to truly reflect what's on his mind; a mixing of fondness and complicity that she's once more surprised to want to kiss.
"Just what we wanted, right? 'Complicating' our simple lives," he tells her, his gaze into hers before it goes further down.
He's struggling against the same desire, she feels it. She feels many things; simple, complicated ones. That's how it is when you're the King's Queen, the consort of the Tempting Devil who's inclined to bend his face over an inch or two; over complexity, simplicity. It's simple, complicated between them, towards the whole world. Simple to know him standing before her, right here; complicated to know the rest, what his presence means.
Going to meet his desire seems so simple; she wants to.
"Detectives?"
The only Detective and Devil, who's mistaken as such, turn to the door now opened to the rest of the institute while a pudgy smiling old lady is standing there.
"Oh I wish I could claim to be one, dear; but I'm just a talented civilian consultant!" Lucifer corrects kindly before any further formal presentation with the manager of the place. "Here's the one and only 'Detective' in charge of the investigation - Detective Chloe Jane Decker."
Refusing a new wave of desire by just hearing her name between those lips she was staring at a minute ago, the only representative of the authority offers her hand to shake. "Detective Decker will do. Hi."
"Marleen Harris, I manage the place. And you are—?" she asks, going back to the 'talented' consultant.
"Right, where are my manners?" he exclaims, glancing at Chloe before politely kissing her hand. "Lucifer Morningstar, at your service."
Mrs. Harris blinks several times, struggling to breathe normally until the Devil finally deigns to release her shaky hand from his hold. She's almost swinging on her square and worn heels - not the kind of manager who's rolling in money, it seems. Her altruism, which has been rewarded so many times, surely is. After straightening up, Lucifer catches Chloe's gaze on him again, adding promptly; "On a professional level, it goes without saying."
Chloe frowns. It doesn't look like him to specify the nature of the services he can or cannot provide for future compensation.
"N-No, See this— this is…. This is what I meant, Luciferwhen I said d—"
"My first love was never Eve…."
Oh.
Is it for her?
The headteacher doesn't seem to notice his last words, too carried away by the inherent carnal desire levitating around him. It takes her a few more seconds to come back to the usual courtesies of focusing on why they're here and not on how to mentally undress the Devil without looking desperate. She shakes her head and lowers her hand, still offered to him, towards the object of unconditional debauchery that Lucifer can be.
He's more, though.
Simpler, more complicated than that.
"I... I-I wish we had met under better circumstances," she mutters.
"So do we," says Chloe. "We met one of your 'protégés'... Francis? He's the one who was able to tell us about her identity."
"Francis? Oh right! He and Penelope often talked together when she visited us."
Mrs. Harris shows them the seats in front of her desk, sitting on the other side while shaking her head with growing sorrow on her face. Doing so, a few blonde locks of hair escape from her bun. "It is a dark day for our institute."
"There's no doubt you will miss her lucrative contribution more than anything in this world, darling," Lucifer immediately retorts with a smile. "Humans and money..."
He then notices the Detective's glare. "What?"
Sighing, Chloe turns her attention to the headteacher who still looks puzzled by her partner's speech about money; a typical human flaw. "Was it usual from Mrs Sanchez to talk with the residents or was it just with Francis?" she asks.
"Well, she's… she was like any other sponsors here, they all need to know 'how' their money changed someone's life at some point, to 'see' the results with their own eyes."
"More commonly known as 'honorary masturbation', Detective," Lucifer commentates.
"I beg your pardon?"
Chloe puts her hand on Lucifer's forearm, carrying on with her questions as if nothing had happened; "Did she come here earlier today?"
"She did, actually. She gave her a mensual check, like every first Monday of the month."
Chloe takes some notes about this last information.
Lucifer laughs cheerfully at her side. "Another masturbatory act, I see. As for me, I tend to prefer my hands to bills, all crumbled with barely a one-way."
Beet red, Chloe briefly shuts her eyes; feeling ashamed to first think of the Devil's hands arousing his own pleasure than thinking of any reprimand. When she says that desire never passes… how is she even supposed to deal with Lucifer's lustful outpourings?
Moistening her lips, their gaze meet. "Lucifer—"
"Are you saying that there's no such thing as selfless acts, Mr. Morningstar?"
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far, Mrs. Harris. To be honest, I'm sitting right next to the least selfish person I know. However, I know for a fact that monetary altruism always hides more than a simple 'goodness of one's heart', as you like to convince yourself so much."
"You'd be surprised at the price of the goodness of Mrs Sanchez's heart," she replies, her hands joined on her desk.
"Astronomically shocking, wasn't it?" he guesses with an arched eyebrow. "As shocking as her compensation, I bet?"
"Lucifer, I don't think—" Chloe tries to intervene.
"I do think that our dear manager here is hiding something from us, Detective," he cuts her off.
Chloe watches more carefully Ms. Harris' defensive posture, her blue brown-painted eyes grow to their widest proportions once she's heard such an accusation. It's usual to see such a reaction from those who heard the Devil's direct words, reactions that are mostly instinctive but not necessarily reprehensible by laws.
Which one is it?
Instinctive or reprehensible?
"I-I—!" she rebels. "I'm not! I have nothing to hide!"
"Come now…" Lucifer shoughs as he sits up to place his hands on the desk. "Everyone always has something to hide."
He leans towards her, smiling; haunting his victim's weak human senses. First the sight, her gaze anchored in his until he decides otherwise, until the desire to please him runs out. It won't, even the Detective's experienced senses know it. Then the hearing, captivated by his voice greedy for secrets, for these secrets buried deep within her soul.
"And you want to tell me what weighs on your heart, don't you? So tell me... What do you truly desire, hm?"
"I-I..."
"Yes?" insists the Devil, his smile widening.
Chloe lets him do it, well aware that it is too late to act otherwise. She's still curious to observe from her uninfluenced spot this unique gift that no one seems able to resist. What do they all feel? She knows the desire, maybe even too much for some time, but it looks more subtle than that.
"I have the ability to draw out people's forbidden desires."
Is it like a wave of outspokenness or a kind of... a crack in everyone's prudishness? The violent, spontaneous influx of everything they have ever desired in their life, maybe?
She who already has trouble controlling just one of them... She can't imagine.
"I want to find and hurt the one who killed Penelope!"
"Do you, now?" Lucifer sounds surprised when he moves away, frowning with perplexity.
"Care to explain?" Chloe encourages her.
Once seated in his chair, the headmaster finally gets free from Lucifer's power. She shakes her head, looking distraught, before sighing. The weight of her confession - emotionally vindictive, of course, but far from legally reprehensible - makes her suddenly look older.
"Do you know how many of our sponsors give more than a hundred dollars a month for the well-being of the kids living here?"
Chloe shakes her head as an answer.
"None!Mrs Sanchez was the only one who truly cared about their future, what they ate over a week, what they needed to live decently. This institution has just lost twelve thousand dollars a month! Without her donations, I'll have to send half of the residents back out on the streets..."
"When I told you that selfless acts are rare," says Lucifer.
"I'm sorry to hear this, Mrs. Harris; but believe me when I tell you that we're trying to do justice to her selfless donations here. Whoever did this to her can't get away with it without consequences. We need you to find him."
"Of course, I— What do you want to know?" she answers quickly.
"You said Mrs. Sanchez used to visit you every first Monday? To give her monthly check, right?"
"That's right. I have it right here, actually."
She starts to rummage through her files, opening and closing one drawer after another. As the seconds pass, her expression hardens. She finally straightens up, her brow deeply furrowed. "It's gone. Gosh!"
"It never happened before?" Chloe asks her then.
"Not really. I mean... sometimes, we've caught some kids who were about to cross the line, but—"
"One of them might be our selfish murderer, Detective," Lucifer points out.
"What? You don't think seriously that one of these kids would—?!" the headteacher exclaims, horrified by this thought alone.
Chloe shakes her head, pensive. "We can't rule out the possibility that there's a connection to the murder yet. However, to do this, we'll need the files about the last admissions and those of your staff."
Mrs. Harris shakes her head, refusing her request every time her pudgy face makes a semicircle movement. "No, no, no. You're wrong, Detective Decker. These kids are— No."
"Mrs. Harris, we're not trying to put the blame on those kids. We just wanna rule out this possibility."
"I can't let you look at these files without a warrant, I'm sorry."
Right.
Such a reaction was to be expected; Chloe has prepared herself for it, but doesn't appreciate having to wait any longer to solve this already complicated case. The lack of clues, personal effects, witnesses…. And now another door slamming in her face. She wouldn't be surprised to have the same result at Sanchez's home.
Rich people can't bear to let others rummage through their stuff, as much selfless they might be.
Then Chloe notices that Lucifer is looking for something in the inside pocket of his jacket.
"I know how to change your mind, darling," he rejoices after taking out his checkbook.
"Lucifer," she intervenes with a disapproving look. "You can't do this. We're representing the L.A.P.D., yo—"
"No, you're the only legal representative here, Detective," he corrects her immediately with a charming smile. "Need I remind you that my reintegration as a civilian consultant has yet to be ratified by your boss?"
"So you're not a civilian consultant?" the headteacher wonders, surprised, lost.
"I will be soon enough. In a couple of hours, at most."
"In that case, I'll ask you to leave my office," she orders, annoyed. "Both of you," she then adds for Chloe.
Taking one of the pens from the desk, Lucifer doesn't get flustered by her bad mood. "Oh, come now! It would be a shame to dismiss an all new sponsor of yours, wouldn't it?"
He starts to write a sum of money and name in his checkbook with enthusiasm, under the Detective's horrified gaze and Harris' cold glare.
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Morningstar—"
"Of course it is," he adds. "Isn't this how the principle of altruism working?"
"—but I won't change my mind."
Lucifer then hands her the check, Mrs. Harris is still busy explaining her point of view while she pulls the piece of paper towards her intent on reading its altruistic content; "Whatever you wrote on this check, it won't ch— Oh my God!"she cries, her eyes wide open.
He sighs loudly, putting his checkbook in his inside pocket with an annoyed expression.
"Please, 'Oh my Lucifer'," he retorts, jaws clenched.
On the verge of hyperventilation, Mrs. Harris gives him frantic nods; reading the check over and over again. She almost tears it between her shaky fingers. She seems on the verge of tears as well.
"Sure, sure... Yes yes! We'll give you all the files you need. Whatever you want!"
Lucifer looks at his partner, utterly satisfied. "I must say that it feels quite masturbatory, indeed."
-xXx-
"How much did you give her?"
Chloe opens her trunk, Lucifer placing the two boxes of files in it after carrying them effortlessly from the building to the entrance. They pass a group of young people - certainly living there and whose names would be found between the pages brought so far.
"More than twelve thousand dollars."
He dusts his sleeve, glaring at the astronomical paperwork now gathered in the trunk of her car. These are only the last admissions of the month, including expulsions of some for violent behaviour, not to mention the list of current staff. The centre works in the old-fashioned way - as any institution lacking financial resources at regular intervals - with paper, bulky but more affordable than the latest computer installation.
She who first wanted to reduce the list of the suspects….
"Not answering my question, Lucifer."
He shrugs. "Oh, you know, once you add one zero after another... hard to stop," he eludes.
"That much, mh?"
"The Almighty is never called in vain, Detective."
It's hard to know if he's talking about himself or not.
Laughing at this, Chloe closes the trunk.
"I didn't think you were so… that comfortable financially. Dunno what I was thinking, to be honest."
She had always known him as a rich man, living sumptuously. However, she can't tell where all this money comes from, whether he did spend some time on Earth or not until he settled in Lux in 2011. His absence should have had consequences, shouldn't it?
"Where did all this money come from?"
Before she can assume the worst, Lucifer cuts her off - reading her mind. He leans against the hood, his other hand finding its way to his pants pocket, "From no reprehensible source, rest assured. I just knew how to place my eggs on each of my visits. As for the last one, well..."
He pauses, as much uncomfortable as she can be about the subject. But, once again, they would have to talk about this, soon or later. As for this part, it's just all about finances, not the most difficult one.
He takes a deep breath, looking away. "Let's just say that Maze is a gifted bookkeeper."
"So you left everything to her? Really?" she wonders, crossing her arms on her chest.
"My, my… are you jealous?" he teases her, arching an eyebrow.
Chloe shakes her head, although she knows it actually is the case. It's stupid, really stupid. She has never felt comfortable with this kind of responsibility, wouldn't have beared having to deal with this in addition to his d—
He's here. Right here.
Shaking her head one last time, she refutes his assumptions; "I'm not. It's just... curiosity. Why did you entrust your business to Maze instead of any other person?"
More objectively, Mazikeen isn't the kind of person to stay quietly in a specific spot for more than five minutes. She had seen her walk away all that time when he was gone, the demon thus looking for a way to forget that he was no longer there.
They had all done it, they had all tried to forget.
She's still trying to.
"Let's simply say that this 'any other person' might feel rather uncomfortable with financial opulence. Plus, I didn't want her to feel obliged to look after my business in addition to everything else," he says softly, looking for her gaze.
Once he finds it, he adds with a shrug; "Although I had told Maze to save a generous part for this 'any other person's hyperactive spawn."
Chloe narrows her eyes, refraining a smile.
"Trixie isn't 'hyperactive'."
As for him, he does smile.
"Weren't we talking about a hypothetical 'any other person', Detective?"
There's this irrepressible desire to move to his lips again. Instead, she checks her phone; aware of how long they stayed here, much longer than she expected first. Lucifer, for his part, never stops giving anxious glances to the files still visible from the rear window.
"What's next, darling? Nothing that requires the mind-numbing study of paperwork, I hope?"
"This mind-numbing paperwork could help us find the murderer," she points out distractedly, busy checking her last texts.
"I'd prefer action. I've had enough paperwork for a lifetime... And Father knows mine is bloody long!"
"Long or not, it'll have to wait."
She looks up, showing him her cell phone and the actual hour. "Time to go get Trixie from school."
"Oh."
Disappointment grows on his face, she notices his slight step back and his averting gaze until he no longer wants to lose contact with hers. She feels the same, every separation has become... is unbearable, to be honest.
But they need time.
Together, individually.
God, it's only been two weeks.
They can live with a one-night separation, can't they?
It's a start.
"Don't go."
"Goodbye…."
However, Chloe surprised herself by proposing the opposite; her heart starting to beat at a panicking rate the second this possibility of separation has crossed her mind, while it passes through her inherent desire for closeness, for just a presence.
Simple.
Complicated.
"You... you can come with me if you want. I-I... Trixie would be happy to see you, y'know?"
It's the truth, using the truth in an act far from the altruism he seemed to grant her.
The least selfish person he knew...
Seeing him here, in the flesh, did change many things. It changed her.
Lucifer stares at her, hesitant, before opening his mouth and giving her his answer that she hopes to go against another absence in her life. He's interrupted by the ringing of his phone, however. Searching in his pockets, he takes the device out of one of them, his expression getting darker once he has listened to his voicemail.
"Bloody Hell…" he grumbles with a somber expression.
"What is it?"
He puts the phone away with an impatient gesture. "I'm afraid that this exhausting encounter with your offspring has to wait, Detective. Duty calls."
"Bad ones?"
She fears those kinds of duty, of those kinds they still can't find the strength to talk about. It isn't like they don't exist, though. Bad duties for her, solution for him. It's all about perspective.
Time and luck, right?
"Just Mazikeen and her bloody wonderful management of Lux," he explains to her. "It looks like I bought five thousand boxes of cheap champagne last night... that and the five thousand bottles of lubricant from Saturday. 'Must be a deep meaning for her actions here, but which is it?"
Coughing with embarrassment, the Detective looks for her car keys.
"Wasn't she a gifted bookkeeper?" she teases him.
"She is, Detective. Both in business and in her preposterous ways to punish me for my hasty departure."
He shakes his head, definitely annoyed with the situation. She might have found it funny if the demon's latest punishment hasn't been so... humiliating for the Devil himself. It is funny.
"You should go," she tells him with a relatively impartial smile.
"I should, yes."
Lucifer seems to hesitate, though. He stays before her, silent, pensive; it becomes almost embarrassing.
She stares back at him. "What?"
"Well, I…" he says, looking for his words, for a clue on her puzzled face. "Would you say we're officially out of any professional duties?"
Her confusion grows further. "Looks like it. Why?"
For any answer, Lucifer's body comes closer to hers. The approach is so simple, so gentle that she doesn't even think of moving back. She simply lifts her face towards his, both of them being at one with their lips, asking for union. They are cheered by the young people who have hung around the steps a little further.
She barely hears them.
She's almost shaking when his hand first, then his thumb touches the curve of her cheek; only opening her eyes again when he moves away from her half-opened lips; ready, eager for a little more than a simple kiss, eager for something more complicated.
Chloe reluctantly loosens her hold on his jacket.
She holds onto his gaze, to his breath that might be mistaken with hers, his hand moving from her cheek to her neck without daring to go further.
Lucifer's breath twitches.
"Go— See you later, Chloe," he whispers.
A second later, she watches him leave, devastated but nevertheless assured that he'd come back to her this time.
She is his queen, after all.
