Author's notes:

Took longer than I thought - it's like writing 14k words (7k, both for French and English) XD

My personal punishment/reward for writing so long chapters!

Anyway, here it is:

Music

For the last time | Dean Lewis)

To SPCLjmm - Thanks. I preferred writing chapter 3, for my part :)


SPEAKING OF APOLOGIES

8


"That's why you're so mad at him, really?"

Chloe's hand freezes in the air, knife raised above the half chopped bell peppers. "He used my feelings, Maze!" she clarifies.

Mazikeen sneers shamelessly at her roommate's hurt feelings. If the demon had been there in the flesh and not on the other side of the world - she must be anywhere else other than the USA, given the language hubbub echoing around her in this seedy bar - Chloe would have thrown her knife at her without feeling guilty for a second.

She would have caught it.

A demon's trick, Maze's.

Chloe looks daggers at the tablet computer against the wall instead. She lowers the knife, honed by her misunderstood rage, on these innocent vegetables. A piece, or two, falls at her feet, as did a few others before. Two more and Trixie would be eating off the floor.

She really needs to calm down.

Why did she even call Maze to 'calm down'?

"Welcome to the club, Decker," she sneers again as she raises her glass and drinks it down in one go without flinching.

Chloe squints.

"Didn't you tell me that feelings weren't your thing?"

"It doesn't stop Lucifer from using them however he wants. If you think you're special because he manipulated you... that's the story of our partnership," she says by pouring herself another glass.

"You're right. It's nothing new," Chloe admits on second thoughts.

She hadn't been really able to think since she had left Lucifer - damn manipulative bastard! Nothing had been able to calm her down, to appease her anger since then. Taking care of Trixie had given her some respite, but - as the vegetables had been the first to notice - it had only been a second best diversion. She still can't get over it and, to be honest, hasn't been able to think beyond since.

"It's so him t-to force things to be the way he wants them to, I know that. It's just…."

Mazikeen interrupts her, arching her eyebrow; avoiding, without turning around, a chair thrown in her direction. Chloe does flinch, however she's out of reach.

"Wait. You're still talking about feelings, aren't you?"

"Maze… did I just see a chair fly above your head or am I just way off mine?" Chloe answers her with another question, taking the tablet computer with both hands.

"CYKA!" someone cries off-screen.

Maze, leaning against the bar counter flooded in spilt alcohol, grabs an undamaged bottle behind it and thus avoids the punch that was meant for her. Chloe had often wondered in the past if demons had a sixth sense, or other senses - stronger than human's - or even eyes in the back of their heads. Or maybe it was just so 'Maze' to avoid punches as easily as she was punching others around.

She hits her opponent's nose with the back of her skull, loss of blood and curses in another language resounding in Chloe's kitchen. Barely shaken, the demon pours herself an umpteenth drink, the man staggering off-screen without further ado.

Hand placed above her fast-beating heart, Chloe has been holding her breath all along. She only breathes out when the man disappears from her sight. "Jeez… Maze! Where the hell are you?!"

"Russia, why do you ask?"

"Russia?! What on earth are you doing in Russia?"

Suddenly less disposed to answer her, Mazikeen turns her empty glass in her hands. She rubs the tip of her nose - a habit she's got whenever she feels uncomfortable; especially when it's about those 'feelings' to which she understands nothing at all. It's more like she doesn't understand others feelings.

She shrugs. "Just visiting some old friends."

"Yeah? And who is that - the man who's gushing blood behind you or the one lying at your feet?" Chloe brings the screen closer, concerned. "Is he still breathing?!"

Maze tilts her head, unmoving first and then kicking the poor guy at the level of his calf. They both hear a faint whine.

"See?" the demon exclaims as she straightens up. "No worries."

"I'm worried about you, Maze."

"Again with the feelings, Decker?" she sighs and rolls her eyes. "I'm a demon."

"You're my friend," replies Chloe. "I miss you, Trixie misses you… a lot. Why don't you… why don't you come back home, visit your 'present' friends, mh?"

Mazikeen's snigger comes back. "Hear you cry about feelings sucks plenty enough from Russia, thank you."

"Well, I thank you for your concern!" Chloe retorts, upset.

"Oh just stop it, Decker! We both know why you're so mad here."

Chloe stares at her, puzzled. "Because Lucifer jerked me around? That's what I keep telling you for the last hour, Maze!"

"Because you missed a golden opportunity to get laid."

Chloe is speechless, then lets out a faint exclamation, her cheeks as red as the ruined bell peppers on her chopping board. That—

That's not the point!

"It isn't always about sex with Lucifer," she mutters.

"Everything is always about sex with Lucifer. And it's the only thing that's not your strong suit," Maze teases her with a smirk. She pauses, thinking. "What's your strong suit, again?"

"Again, it's not the point," Chloe repeats to her, waving her knife in front of the screen. She then adds out of bravado; "And you're wrong, I'm… I'm pretty skilled."

Like everyone. She's not… a sex machine, insatiable succubus re-inventing lust in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Or another kind of… tail, in that case. It's never been about skills, but about trust.

About feelings.

Hasn't it? Is it naive from her?

Sex is neither her strong suit, nor her weak spot; it's just sex.

With Lucifer.

The blade of the knife misses her ring finger from an inch. Mazikeen, for her part, sneers even more.

"Admit it. It pisses you off that he faked it, doesn't it? It's not about feelings, it's about your nun's sexual abstinence."

Her smile grows on her mocking face. "I bet he's as frustrated as you are right now, if not more."

"What?"

Mazikeen shrugs, drinks up. The man at her feet, unconscious so far, whines louder; he nevertheless regrets it as soon as one of her feet meets his belly.

"Lucifer can't say, express anything but the truth, Decker. Same when he uses your 'feelings'." She has insisted on the last word, grunting with disgust. "Whatever he told you in this room, you can be certain he was telling the truth. He can't lie, nor wants to."

"But that's exactly what he did!" Chloe exclaims.

The Brittanys, how he had driven her into her emotional - sexual - corner. There's no truth, it was only manipulation! It was… fake.

"He tried to manipulate me."

"And you liked him trying so because it felt true!"

"I—"

Getting bored with the talk, Maze sighs and asks her point blank, "Was he hard or not?!"

"Who's hard?"

Her jaw dropping, her face turned red, Chloe lifts her gaze from the screen. She notices Trixie's presence on the other side of the living room, the door of her bedroom open behind her too. She's staring curiously at her mother, holding her homework in one hand, a pencil in the other. Closing and opening her mouth twice in five seconds, Chloe looks helplessly at her friend who - with a smirk going against her child's innocence - is about to answer for her. Such a helpful, demonic friend.

Chloe outpaces her, undoubtedly helped by the near hearable definition on Maze's lips. "Maze. She…."

The latter stares at her without blinking, amused. Waiting.

"She's-she...uhm… It's hard for her to find someone to play guessing games with her. Russians don't like guessing games."

She sees from the corner of her eye one of those 'Russians' trying to crawl away from the demon. Mazikeen digs her heel in his back, making him whine like a little girl. Chloe's little girl seems thrilled with the news. She walks towards the kitchen intending to grab her mom's tablet on the counter.

"Cool! I wanna play! Can I, Mom? Please?"

Faster than Trixie, Chloe grabs the tablet before she closes her hands on it. "In a sec, honey. First, Maze needs to… find a quieter place to play. Right, Maze?"

Mazikeen sighs louder. She sits up and takes her phone from the bar counter, which gives Chloe a clearer picture of the chaos she provoked there. Guessing games turned dangerous with demons, really dangerous.

How did she ever manage to hang this man by his trousers to the ceiling light and—?

That was diabolical.

That was the Devil's friend.

"Call you back in a sec, little human," says the demon, stepping over several whining bodies on the ground.

"Oh and say hi to Eve for me, okay?" Chloe teases her by way of reprisal, fully aware of why her friend has travelled so far away from home.

She knows she is right when Maze's confident expression begins to fade on the screen. The video calls ends, the screen turned black before Chloe's victorious grin. She handles the tablet computer to Trixie who happily walks back to her bedroom. Chloe, for her part, gets back to her cooking preparations. It's Tacos Tuesday - and Dan won't come this time.

Once again.

Once again, this is another 'Lucifer effect', back in her life and her daughter's, even though he hadn't yet had the chance to see Trixie again throughout these last two weeks. He probably tries to postpone it as long as possible, knowing him. Of course, he would try. Their recent argument wouldn't help to create any further opportunities for her daughter to see Lucifer again anyhow. She wishes Dan could have come, for Trixie. She hadn't been the best parent in the last six months, hasn't been much more than a pitiful shadow of her former self until recently. She feels bad about 'stealing' time from Dan with their daughter, somehow, given everything he'd done to make things easier for her. Trixie hasn't complained much more than usual about her father's absence tonight, nor has she seemed reluctant to spend an extra evening with her mother.

She could have.

But children have this amazing ability to adapt with worst situations, to forgive.

It remains difficult for Chloe.

To forgive herself.

To forgive, too. It never has been her strong suit.

Her gestures slow above plates, dishes over the fire.

Her strong suit….

The heat raises from her wrist to her open palm, wet from the vegetables she just put in the pan. She closes her eyes, lets out a sigh.

Almost the same heat as his, from his skin under his collar; back then.

No need to think about an answer to Mazikeen's crude question.

She removes her hand before she really starts to burn for the Devil, brought back to the present time by two hesitant knocks at the front door. Rubbing her hand to appease the pleasant if slightly painful sensation of flames on her skin, Chloe walks to the door, surprised to see Lucifer once she opens it.

She stares, then glares at him - annoyed to see him on her doorstep, also annoyed to feel happy about it. Her heart beats more vividly within her chest, not caring much about her fair feelings for him. Those that matters to her, not to her teenage libido.

She bits the inside of her cheek, this time annoyed to confirm Mazikeen's theory. A demon seeing right through her feelings - it sounds unreal.

He is the first to speak, aware that she doesn't need much - less than words - to slam the door in his face the next second. "Detective."

No 'Chloe' at this point; he knows how to be careful, occasionally. Using her feelings no longer grants him this kind of intimacy, the very one he used to hurt her. Chloe's fingers stay on the handle, less tense.

"Good evening," he adds with a shy smile.

"If you've come here to take over from Maze's sexual innuendos, you can go," she tells him, her other hand on her hip.

Chloe instantly regrets opening her mouth. Lucifer arches an inquiring eyebrow and she doesn't miss the amused gleam in his gaze. "One word about it and I'll hit you," she warns him tensely.

She's back to the use of yous again, it's been faster than usual, spontaneous emotions showing once more how much he fucked up with her. She used to be more comfortable with the 'yous', but not tonight. She's far from it.

She's still mad at him.

"I wouldn't dare, Detective. And…" He lifts his hands, slowly turns round. "As you can see, I'm coming to you with no bellicose purpose. No Brittanys, no weapon of mass seduction…."

He glances at his belt, lower than that, lowering his hands. He has a half-smile on his lips.

"Well… barely brought one. I mean, anybody could hardly disarm this weapon of mine."

Looking up, he meets Chloe's death stare. His smile fades, every trace of dirty jokes coming up with it as well.

He gulps, frowns. "Anybody but you, I guess," he murmurs, glancing at her hand still on the handle.

That's way more than three words about it, more than enough for her to turn the handle, release the tension stuck in her fingers. Lucifer's aware of this before she even tries to make a move. He opens his mouth, yet Chloe doesn't give him another chance to speak more words aloud. "Goodnight, Lucifer."

"Lucifer?"

Both he and Chloe turn their heads, the first of them surprised and the second annoyed by Trixie's presence. Chloe suspects Maze has taught her child some 'demon' skills for sneaking out of her bedroom like this. Trixie has never been that discreet, proof is her cry of joy the next second, partly muffled by her race towards the door where she wraps her arms around Lucifer's waist. Far from reacting in step with his usual repulsion for human close touch, Lucifer welcomes hers with another smile and a slight tap - several, actually - on the top of her head. Quite unexpectedly, his reaction softens Chloe's anger. This is enough for her not to push Trixie aside and slam the door shut, at least.

"Hello, child."

"Took you long enough to come to see me!"

"Well, I've…." He looks for words, looks briefly at Chloe. "...been pretty busy."

"With Hell to rule over?"

He raises his eyebrows with surprise. Trixie had never doubted his identity, but she had never talked about it so directly either. Lucifer is like any grown man on Earth, so it seems; convinced that children can't understand most of 'grown-up stuff', until they do.

"With that and other things," he answers quite evasively.

"Speaking of 'being busy'," Chloe takes part. "Lucifer's still busy tonight, Monkey. He was about to leave, right?" she adds for him.

She sees disappointment on his features, which he hides easily by smiling at them. He gently moves Trixie's arms away from his waist and expensive suit. She has hugged him long enough for him to complain about imaginary folds or stains on this 'irreplaceable' fabric, and yet….

Not a word, nor complaint from him.

Chloe fixes her gaze on him, puzzled.

Is he trying to manipulate her again? By using her daughter as a sort of go-between?

Mazikeen's words are played on a loop in her mind.

"Lucifer can't say, express anything but the truth."

Is he… happy to see Trixie? Happy enough to tolerate longer hugs from her, really?

"Right," he says.

"Can you stay? Please?" Trixie asks him, her hands still clinging onto his suit jacket.

"I-I'm afraid that's not on the agenda, urchin."

"Yes, it is!" Trixie exclaims, bouncing up and down. "It's Tacos Tuesday, it's on our agenda for years and Dad can't eat with us tonight. Right, Mommy?"

"Right, but—" starts Chloe, cut off by her daughter's enthusiasm.

"See?" she says as she turns to Lucifer. "We'll have the full 'Tacos' team if you stay! Can he, Mom?" she adds for her mother, joining her hands in such adorable prayer. "Pleaaaaaseeeee?"

Manipulation always comes from where she expects it the least, when she expects it the least. She should get used to her daughter's cute yet unrealizable requests, though. But it isn't unrealizable; neither truly unreasonable. It's Tacos Tuesday, they are less than usual and Chloe might forget her guilt for a few hours if she would say yes to this so reasonable request.

Trixie needs it, she needs to spend more time with her mom and… someone she likes.

She looks at Trixie and Lucifer in turns, eventually sighing her sedition. "Okay, okay! If you're not busy tonight…."

"Nothing I can't postone, Detective," Lucifer says right away, seemingly relieved to get another chance to come in.

She sighs again, stepping aside to let him in, waving her hand towards the living room with a defeated look. As for Trixie, she doesn't hide her joy and victory. She keeps bouncing up and down near him, then takes his hand and drags him along the living room.

"Cool! I'm gonna tell you everything you missed since last time!"

Lucifer exchanges looks with Chloe, gleams of dread exchanged with his partner's delighted one. Here she thought she'd done him a favor by letting him stay at her place….

Every bad action leads to fair punishment, after all.

-xXx-


He has a strange feeling.

A rather unpleasant one.

Lucifer is only half-listening to Beatrice's tremendously detailed debriefing, frequently looking over his shoulder to make sure of Chloe's presence. She's here, as her child, as the chilly air coming from the opened window further away.

He isn't back in Hell.

However, he can't get rid of this unpleasant feeling. It feels like Hell, it's overly alike. Chloe doesn't look at him, glares at him whenever she does, doesn't speak, doesn't cry - not since he came in. She's ignoring him.

It is hell.

It's what he wanted, the Detective reacting thus and yet… he bloody can't stand it, to a point that he had ended up on her doorstep that very evening. A few hours was his best, his limit. Both her absence than her last words had brought him in front of her place. It could only mean two things; either nothing had changed despites his efforts, or everything had changed indeed - to such an extent that he has been brought back in Hell without even noticing the transition. If so, Michael must have been much more impatient to punish him for this 'mythological evasion' than he thought. This possibility might seem scatterbrained, but Chloe's looks, the endless guilt he has been feeling….

It doesn't seem that much scatterbrained.

It seems so real, a straight replica of his reality tormenting him, to use his guilt to the last drop. Finding himself trapped in a hell loop again isn't surprising, neither a first for him. Nor… well, you can hardly speak of 'countable times' with eternal punishment.

And as for the first possibility, well… it's not a good one either. Ending up at the same point, although alone and with the only vital person in his life that 'hates' him now - this situation might be considered as worse than Hell. It has been his plan from the start, hasn't it? Stay alone, the only one manipulated by His Father. And yet….

The guilt feeling, the confusion; one or the other, he feels the same.

So….

Hell or Hell-like relationship?

"What did you do?" suddenly asks Beatrice.

"Did?" Lucifer repeats, perplexed.

"You have the same expression I have when I know I misbehaved. That's why Mom didn't want to let you come in? Because you behaved badly?"

"I wouldn't call it 'bad'," he says. "It was the… best thing to do; looked like it, at that moment," he whispers with another look towards the Detective.

"So it was 'bad', anyway. Right?"

Turning to Beatrice, Lucifer sighs heavily and unbuttons his suit jacket to sit more comfortably on the couch. "I have no idea, child. I don't even know if all this is real or just coming from my guilt."

Beatrice who lectures him about his past choices and actions looks like Hell punishments enough, after all. He wouldn't have done better himself. He could add it to Hell the next time he would go down there, if he wouldn't be there already. Children lecturing adults, wonderfully hellish.

"What do you mean?" Beatrice asks him shortly after, looking concerned.

She gets up from the floor, walks around the coffee table and sits down beside him.

"What I mean isn't children's concern, from what I heard," eludes Lucifer, careful not to annoy Chloe further by talking about 'adults problems' with her offspring, who is as curious as her mother.

Enjoyable character trait, he must say.

"I'm not a child anymore!"

"I very much doubt that, child."

"I'm already nine. You're a child until you're eight. Everybody knows that!"

"Do they?"

She nods, comes closer to him until her knees touch his. Lucifer is surprised he doesn't react as usual - moving backwards, sitting up, anything to keep a safe distance between them. He hadn't reacted much to her tight hug on the doorstep either. Maybe it's all about her being a child or not, not anymore, as she just claimed. That or this is another torment from Hell. Either way, Lucifer doesn't risk much by telling her his concerns.

If Beatrice is no longer a child, she would understand. If she is only a figment of his imagination, she would simply listen to whatever he needs to say aloud.

"Tell me," she encourages him. "Maybe I could help?"

While he keeps hesitating, she adds, "Come on! I helped you get in, didn't I? You can trust me."

"Beatrice Decker," he says, pleasantly surprised. "Don't tell me you selfishly used your charms on your mother!"

The little one - nor that 'little', it appears - shrugs with a mischievous smile. "Just helped a friend."

Lucifer looks at her, smiling too.

Friend.

He had never done anything to earn Beatrice's affection, but this word, being called this way - it awakens something within him; something he wouldn't have ever felt in Hell, something coming from reality, from Earth. It is too 'pleasant' as a sensation to belong to Hell. However, he needs to be certain.

"I'm impressed!" he congratulates her.

"You could tell me what's bothering you in return, right?"

He squints, all the more impressed. "You'll go far, urchin. My confession for your help, is that it? Well, I guess it's fair."

Beatrice leans towards him with a deeply focused, serious expression.

"I did behave 'badly', in your mother's perceptions at least. I wanted t-to protect her. If it worked - which is probably the case, given her reaction -, this place is the result of my personal hell loop. My own version of punishment…."

"It can't be," Beatrice instantly refutes his guess, moving backwards on the couch. "You're the King! Kings punish bad people, they're not punished."

"It's more all about guilt than royalty, child. See, I've been feeling… guilty since I misbehaved with your mother."

"But why would you end up in Hell for that?"

"There is this strong emotional bond between us both, so… if I cut it, I wouldn't end up anywhere else but down there."

"You really think it's cut?" Beatrice whispers, growing sad.

Lucifer shakes his head, his gaze turning back to Chloe. "How can I know, offspring? I've been feeling nothing but guilt for hours. I can't tell what's true or not…."

"Of course, you can!"

He stares at her.

"You're the Devil," Beatrice explains convincingly. "It's your thing to tell what's true or not. You're focusing on a detail instead of thinking about the whole, it's like me with geometry." She shakes her head, sighs. "I hate geometry…."

"Curious allegory, urchin."

"What's 'allegory'?"

"It's-" Lucifer sighs, shakes his head as well. "Never mind."

"What do you feel, right now?" the child continues, forgetting about vocabulary and geometry.

"Apart from your breath on my cheek, you mean?" Lucifer replies, moving slightly aside, not comfortable enough with this sort of closeness yet.

"Clear your head," she advises him. "Focus on the whole, not the details."

"This is ridiculous…."

"Do it, come on!" she encourages him.

"Like mother, like daughter," mumbles Lucifer before complying. "Very well."

On the whole, hm?

A big picture of it all. It's not his thing to favour global thinking over attention to detail; he is renowned for the latter. Chloe would agree with the truth being a matter of details, of dispersed proof here and there.

Put together into a coherent whole.

Lucifer turns an upset gaze on Beatrice.

She's right... Bloody Hell.

Giving more credit to her 'ridiculous' advice, Lucifer goes over the details; not one by one this time. No, he takes the time to put them together into a coherent whole. And everything cries at him that this is real, that he feels guilty for good reason, that he hates to have reacted exactly like his Father would have, he hates to have to leave soon 'for the good of all' except their own. He hates not knowing what to do with this time together without risking making things worse.

He hates being the main source of her torments, as much as he hates the idea of no longer being this source.

And for all this, he feels guilty; weak.

Far from the man Chloe deserves.

Here is the truth.

Lucifer lets out a deep sigh, taking notice of the urchin's gaze on him. She seems to know that her trick worked, although he is not feeling less guilty. Actually, it is getting worse. Really worse.

Smiling shyly at Beatrice, he compliments her once more. "No doubt that you've got your mother's best sides. Thank you."

"You're welcome. So?"

"So what?"

Beatrice nods briefly towards Chloe, whispering further down with an expression of conspiracy; "What did you feel? Is this real?"

"Sadly, it is. I guess our bond is stronger than any vain attempts of mine to stop it."

"That's good news, isn't it?"

"Yes and no," Lucifer answers to her, taking a deep breath.

Chloe's gaze pierces the back of his suit jacket, his shirt and his flesh, it sends apprehensive shivers down his spine. No doubt, the bond is still there; unshakeable. He feels almost stupid himself to think he could undo it so easily.

As stupid as upsetting the Detective can be.

"Why 'no'?" asks Beatrice, eager to know everything, as annoying as ever.

"She's angry with me."

He doesn't dare to turn around this time, but Beatrice does, smiling at her mother. "Looks like it."

Lucifer lets out a mocking exclamation. "It only looks like it to you, really?"

She shrugs, her gaze still staying on her mother who keeps looking daggers at him, whatever she's doing. The more she looks at him, the more guilt is eating him away. Terrible feeling, to say the least.

It's the opposite of what he felt in the interrogation room.

"She's anxious, too. Angry and nervous," she says.

"Anxious, you say?"

She nods. "She's always a bit abrupt when she's stressed. Same when she's mad at me or someone else. Was it that bad, what you did?" she asks him afterwards. "Like... 'unicorn on the neighbor's hood'?"

Lucifer frowns. "Unicorn on neighbor's hood?" he repeats, intrigued, an amused smile on his lips.

"My last big mistake," she explains.

"I see. Well, I could hardly vie with your... long-forgotten beasts, offspring; but I guess my behavior isn't far from it, yes."

She starts to think, presses her lips together.

"Then you should apologize to her; you'll feel better."

He laughs, shakes his head. The last time he asked for forgiveness was... That was before. It hadn't stopped his family from rejecting him, from leaving him alone in that place of nightmares and suffering that didn't care about forgiveness.

"I don't think it's that simple."

"My teacher always says that you have to talk to each other to make things right, to apologize," Beatrice insists.

"I never teach that to my students, I assure you."

"What do you teach them, then?"

"I-" Lucifer looks at her, at Chloe. "I'm pretty sure this is a more than nine years old topic," he says. "Speaking of apologies; will it work with your mother?"

She nods, forgetting the other topic. He lets out another sigh, rubs his hands.

"She won't talk to me or give me a chance to talk to her, I'm afraid."

"I can arrange that!" she offers to him, seemingly excited to help him further.

He stares at her, hesitant. "What's on your mind?"

"Wait! First… my end of the deal."

He slightly moves backwards, arching his eyebrows. "Again?"

"A favor for my help, that's your motto, right? Maze told me and you say it all the time, too!" she tricks him with a smirk.

Like mother, like daughter... Lucifer was wrong. She is worse, worse than her mother. He stares at her without a word, as worried about the favor she would ask him as he is about making things right between him and Chloe. They have so little time left together. In the end, this is the reason why he decides to risk another partnership with another 'Decker'.

"I hope your favor is worthwhile, child," Lucifer grumbles as he offers her his hand to seal their deal.

She shakes on it, her radiant smile disturbing the Devil more than it should have.

"Trust me!"

-xXx-


Chloe had to admit that the evening had taken a quite pleasant turn. This had been her first expectation, before Lucifer showed up and stayed - or Trixie begging her to let him stay - at her place. From then on, she had feared long, heavy silences, looks, awkward gestures.

And there had been all of that, in a way.

Still, it hadn't been a total fiasco against a backdrop of spicy tacos, glasses of wine broken by anger, screams and tears.

This is a surprise, a pleasant surprise.

She suspects Trixie of being the main responsible. She is certain she is. Mothers' instincts….

She hadn't missed Lucifer and Trixie whispering in the living room, nor her daughter's innocent question five minutes later about the remaining cooking preparations to do. Chloe had answered to her, agreed to get some help.

And Lucifer had joined her.

For a moment, she had suspected him of plotting against her, to make her do what he wanted; again. Then she had noticed his expression; shy, tense, fearful of trespassing on her space, how Trixie had pushed him forward with an encouraging smile….

She was the brains behind the operations, indeed.

Chloe had been tempted to recant, pretend she didn't need any more help or any other ridiculous excuse for not dealing with him so closely. Instead, she had nodded - as shy as he had been. She can still picture him in his side of the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, showing his back to her most of the time, cutting, seasoning, tasting, offering in a calm tone any culinary improvement. There had been silence, looks.

A question. Just one.

She had given in first. Well... it isn't a 'competition'. She had just wanted to know, more than she had wanted to punish him.

"Doesn't that go against your plan? I mean, coming here?"

He had turned to her, offering her his full face rather than his profile. Then a smile, of which she had only been able to glimpse half of the emotions it had shown.

"I've always hated plans."

She had squeezed the rag in her hand, squeezed it until silence returned completely, until the alarm of the oven startled her and separated their gaze for the next thirty minutes. More, if she considers the time passed to eat and the last half hour waiting for him to leave Trixie's bedroom.

Taking her glass of red wine from the coffee table, she smiles. She would have liked to know how her daughter had come to convince Lucifer to read her a bedtime story. A damn long story, judging by the time she has spent alone with her thoughts, sitting on the couch. Chloe has occasionally heard Lucifer exclaiming through the ajar door, Trixie laughing shortly after, or both talking lively about the plausible existence or not of unicorns on Earth.

The silence has just returned a few minutes ago, it probably means that they have come to an agreement about it.

She takes a sip of wine, bringing her bare feet back to the couch.

Her gaze gets lost to the still open window, the curtains moving from time to time with the evening breeze. It's late already, too late for such a long story, but Chloe doesn't want to get up and shorten this moment between them. She wouldn't shorten anything, even the thread of her thoughts. So many things are going through her mind, things as brief as the wind sometimes, like what she still have to do between now and the next interviews tomorrow mid-morning, and things as difficult to move aside as the window itself, like the reason that had brought Lucifer to her place rather than to Lux with those women, like what Mazikeen, Linda had said.

Truth, talk.

Feelings.

"I despise unicorns," someone mutters at her back.

Chloe turns her head, Lucifer closing the door of Trixie's bedroom, looking grumpy. "I've always despised them, bloody golden horns stuck anywhere…."

She frowns, smiling despite her anger. "Unicorns are a thing, then?"

He rectifies for her. '"Were' a thing." He takes his glass of wine from the dining table, sips it quietly while Chloe cannot keep quiet her curiosity about it. She places her hand free of wine on the back of her couch, spreads her legs.

"So… Horns, uh? Stuck…?"

Gazing with great care at the wine slightly moving in his glass so as not to meet her 'almost' laughing expression, Lucifer answers; "I've tried far better dildos since."

She snickers, her glass leaning forward in her hilarity, spilling some wine on her thigh. Lucifer fails at staying serious, not spilling anything like her, though. She wipes as much alcohol as she can with her free hand, her skin soaked in red liquid that soon soaks the couch beneath her. For a moment, she forgets her anger, all these thoughts, these questions never getting real answers - she forgets for laughing with her partner.

Partner.

It stops the next moment, both caught up with their situation, their different feelings, yet 'linked' by higher manipulation, as Lucifer seems to fear. Lucifer looks at her, caught up with tension. He has been tense ever since he arrived at her place. Since much longer.

Ever since he came back….

Before he left her.

She hasn't been relaxed either for a while, to be honest.

Can't they pass this, really? Can't they pass their literal connection? Take advantage of it?

This isn't… punishment.

Maybe they just should stop seeing, perceiving their current situation as such - punishment.

Lost in thought, Chloe only notices now that Lucifer has put his empty glass on the table and has taken his jacket back from the chair. "I-I should leave. I thank you for letting me share your meal, Detective."

"Wait! Lucifer, wait."

He stops near the front door. "Yes, Detective?" he asks politely. The more he tried to hide his tension from her, the more she saw it.

The truth, had said Maze. Everywhere, unavoidable, whatever he does or says.

"I-" she says nervously, as vulnerable as he is.

She shows him the free space on the couch next to her, smiling shyly at him. "It was... it was a lovely evening and I-I'd hate to end on this."

"On what?"

"On unsaid things."

He stares apprehensively at her. She continues; "I'd hate for you to go back there on unsaid things." She shrugs, her lips pressed on her emotions, which get out short after a trembling exclamation. "I hate the idea of you going back there, but if you must…."

She shakes her head.

"I have no control over it, but I'd appreciate it if I could have some control about what's going on between us - or the impression of control, at least. Anyway, to do that, to make things work between us, we really should talk about it first, right?"

She meets his gaze, which seems unable to choose between uncertainty and fear since she spoke. He looks like a beast trapped in a cage, claws in his pockets, his eyes looking for an exit, fangs ready to appear behind his quiet lips. The Devil is pictured like a beast in most cases, a wild beast.

Vulnerable.

Lucifer sighs a moment later.

"Will we have to say things in total sobriety?" he asks her, his gaze turned to his empty glass.

She smiles, drinks the rest of hers before handing it to him. "It'll depend on the service."

He smiles back at her, still tense but slowly moving towards a welcome relaxation. Putting his suit jacket on the nearest piece of furniture, he takes the glass from her hands, brushing his fingers against hers. Just like he did at suppertime, for the same reason - the abolition of sobriety.

Awkward gestures…. There have been some, there will be more now.

"The best service on Earth... and anywhere else," he assures her.

The best he is, no doubt about it. You only have to see how - in the space of barely five minutes - he has filled their glasses, a not too unreasonable and adequate quantity to two or three unsaid things to 'say', and has joined her in the living room. His excellence stops when he gives her the glass, however. At this moment, Lucifer becomes as quiet as a mouse once seated at the other end of the couch. Chloe has immediately bent her legs, a wall of flesh and poured wine against her chest from which only the vibrations of her heart come out.

None of them is the 'best' to what would follow.

It took them years to confess something, a feeling already so obvious to anyone else around. Even for Maze.

No, maybe not for Maze.

Chloe breathes in when Lucifer sighs, their breaths and verbal beginnings being stopped by each other.

"Lucifer, I-"

"I want to-"

They laugh, share a look.

"Sorry," Chloe apologies to him, "You were saying?"

"No, I- I guess it's appropriate to let you take the lead, given my behaviour this morning. It's only fair."

"Right, this morning…." she repeats, slightly moving her legs, her toes nearly touching Lucifer's thigh.

She nods pensively. "It's as good a starting point as any other, I guess."

She could start by expressing many things; her anger, why not? She hadn't let go of it all day long and most of the evening. She still is; not so much anymore, just... deeply annoyed that he had used this kind of ploy with her, once again, despite everything that had changed between them. She could start with blame, for that matter. Typical conversation starting point - reminding each other's faults, then moving on to what really matters.

But she is tired of the constant tension between them.

"You seemed convinced that you could put an end to my feelings for you with those girls and your attempts to seduce me in the interrogation room…."

"Correction; the Devil never tries to seduce, he seduces." Lucifer interrupts her, true to himself.

"Remind me again who was left there and who simply left?" she replies, more amused than angry at his intervention.

He makes a face. "Fair point."

She smiles as he sips his drink. At least they are back to good old teasing. She continues; "What made you believe that?"

He sighs.

"It's complicated."

"Start with the simple, then."

He puts his glass on the coffee table, his forearms resting on his thighs still far from her own legs. He rubs his hands together with a furrowed brow.

"My feelings for you are as real, as 'free' of choice as I choose to breathe, Chloe. And... I have no doubt about yours. It's just that— you and I have never really been free to choose, from the beginning. And, umh…."

He shakes his head.

"I can't stand the idea of a relationship with you with the same conditions. I want more; for you, for me."

"Is it something to do with that pattern? With the 'Persephone' thing and everything else?"

"That and... something else."

"Something else? What else?"

Lucifer turns his head sideways, hesitation meeting misunderstanding. They stare at each other, Chloe clutching her glass against her chest.

"What aren't you telling me, Lucifer?" she asks, almost whispering.

"It's nothing truly dramatic," he immediately explains to her, enigmatic and tense as ever. "I mean... It was dramatic for me at the time, but-but now— Let's just say that I've learned to live with it. I had no choice! I couldn't live without you, so—"

"Just spit it out," Chloe cuts him off without blinking, holding her breath for the next second.

He sits up a bit, staring at her all along, without daring to say. Perhaps Chloe's desperate, frightened look helped him to take the plunge, to say those so complicated words, from that time. Scared, she is - will be soon enough. What could be more terrible, more difficult to reveal to her than his true nature?

He says them. Finally, he tells her. "You're a miracle, Chloe."

She stares at him, puzzled. She frowns, as much as her face is able to express her perplexity. "Thanks for the compliment, but…."

"It's to be taken to its literal sense, actually."

"What?" she exclaims, for lack of understanding.

"It's quite long to explain. Simply put; my Father is kind of... intrusive, not to say abusive. From what I heard, He has seen fit to give your father and mother a little push to conceive you. "Then Lucifer shrugs, tense but smiling at her side. "Rather more like cadenced pushes. Strong ones, I bet - we're talking about a walking miracle in God's name, after all."

A miracle.

Chloe, divine conception sitting by the Devil, sipping wine and unsaid things, reacts to the news in the least miraculous way;

"Oh."