It was a Friday night, and for once, Lucifer Morningstar was alone in his penthouse, nothing but the scotch in his left hand and the remote in his right for company. Being single again, he was starting to learn, really did come with some great perks. 1) He no longer had to share his drinks. 2) He could now flirt with anything and everything in sight. 3) He'd averted the apocalypse and, perhaps mostly importantly -to him, anyway- 4) He no longer had to share the TV. It's not that he minded, per say, watching countless hours of inconsequential reality shows about people he couldn't give a fruit loop about, but the fact that they didn't have any life to them, any character. How was he, the Devil, going to relate to a 37 year old woman debating what poodle will best compliment her new dress?
Since the Detective currently had no new cases, he'd decided to have a little devil-time. Lucifer had got his nails done, had a new suit tailored, bought the biggest teddy bear for Amenadiel and Linda, but after that -which only took about four hours- he found himself rather bored. So, like any single man living alone and sporting the best TV money could buy, he decided to see what was on.
Teleshopping, teleshopping, cookery show, cop drama -too close to home with that one- talking animals and...Angel? What was that? It seemed they were having some kind of marathon, for the whole day was booked with episodes. Intrigued, Lucifer clicked on the channel.
And was met by the sight of Seeley Booth, or at least the actor, perhaps about five or six years younger. Was the guy playing an angel? Lucifer didn't remember that little factoid from when he'd looked the actor up on IMBD. After about fifteen minutes, he was able to ascertain that the man was in fact not an angel, but a vampire, one cursed with a soul, and that his character had been on another show, and this was his spin-off, like those CW superhero shows that sprung up more than a Whack-A-Mole in an arcade game.
Lucifer told himself that it was just to kill time, that he was bored and still reeling over having had his demon form take over almost entirely when he got out some more drinks, some Cool Ranch Puffs he'd commandeered from the precinct's vending machine, his comfiest robe, and put his phone on 'Silent.'
Then the Devil went right back to the start.
And he loved it. While 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' didn't have the crime-solving aspect of 'Bones' it still had enough heat and humour to keep you entertained and a bright host of characters that you could identify with. Except for Xander: Lucifer wouldn't be caught dead with a shirt with jellyfish on, for Dad's sake! Buffy was smart, and strong, and brave and actually quite endearing...and entirely familiar. By episode twelve, Lucifer was able to draw too many parallels between the young Slayer and the Detective that he gave up trying. And Angel...he was what intrigued Lucifer most of all. A vampire, one of the worst at that, trying to do good, falling in love when he wasn't supposed to, falling for that one thing that was light and good and incredible in his life. It was like watching himself up on the big plasma screen, although maybe Angel had better hair.
By Saturday morning, he was on season two. Then things started to get dark; it seemed the sun didn't shine on this TV show, and not just because they were hanging out in cemeteries half the time. Spike was a welcome addition to the show, and Lucifer hoped that the Devil himself could only look half as cool in a leather duster. He also particularly enjoyed the Halloween episode, seeing everyone out of their comfort zone.
The next episode, 'Lie To Me,' had an ending that struck him for a moment, so much so that he waited before starting up the next episode. Lucifer had never really thought about what a job like that, fighting evil, would cost a person, the burden it placed on you, the weight. Here was a sixteen year old girl, and she had to stake her best friend, or at least what remained of him. It was sad. And her wondering if it ever got easier, if life ever got easier...Lucifer himself wondered if Chloe ever had days like that, ever had doubts like that. He knew her well enough to know the answer was likely a 'yes.' He vowed to pay attention more in the future.
Episode thirteen struck him like a semi-truck to the chest. Episode fourteen hit him like an avalanche. That one had him reaching for the tissues. Oh. My. Dad. How could they have done that to her? How could the writer's have destroyed something so precious? It was cruel and it was obscene and it was...life. Those things did happen, people were capable of such apathy, such indifference, and pretending stuff like that didn't happen wouldn't help anyone. Still, didn't mean he liked it or that he didn't cry for a good while.
Oz was cool. He was a good addition to the crew, even if his guitar skills left something to be desired -as in, any skill whatsoever. It was nice to see Willow happy, even if Buffy was dealing with Angelus and his cruel torments.
Jenny! Didn't see that one coming.
'Killed By Death,' became a fast favourite, if nothing because Der Kinderstod's eye stalks was some of the creepiest crap he'd ever seen, and he'd seen a lot.
Then he got to the finale. The sun was jus starting to set, painting the main room of the penthouse in vibrant crimson and deep oranges, but Lucifer didn't even notice. He was on the edge of his seat -literally, another inch, and he'd be on the floor- as Angelus and Buffy battled it out across the TV screen. And then...and then.
BAM! Sword straight to the heart.
Poor Buffy, having to kill her true love right after he had his soul restored.
Well, Lucifer tried to console himself, at least she'll have her friends to cheer her up in the next season.
But she didn't. Unable to bear the weight of all she'd done, Buffy left Sunnydale for the bright lights of (drum roll please)...Los Angeles, the City of Angels herself! What were the odds? He thought it a bit if a weird choice, considering she was trying to move on from a guy called Angel, but who was he to judge a fictional character their life choices?
Lucifer had a decision of his own to make: watch season three, or sleep?
Like any good Devil, he chose the most sensible, grown-up option.
He started season three.
The Devil awoke to the sounds of battle, screams and screeches of dying creatures and...phones ringing. Groping for the infernal object, Lucifer found it had slid inside an empty packet of Cool Ranch Puffs. Wiping it on his robe, he answered groggily, "Greetings, you've reached Lucifer Morningstar, Devil Extraordinare and die-hard Bangel shipper. How may I help you this bright and non-apocalypsy morning?"
"Lucifer, hi, it's me. Look, I'm really sorry to bother you at the weekend and all," the Detective apologized, her earnestness bringing a smile to his face, "but this case just came in and it's a bit of a weird one. I think it might require your unusual expertise."
"Well, a Devil does like to feel needed." Glancing at the TV screen, he realized he only had fifteen minutes left of the season three finale, so he'd only been asleep for about five minutes. Excellent. He could get dressed and watch at the same time, couldn't he? Multi-tasking was not beyond his devilish capabilities. "I'll be there within the hour," he told her, just to be safe: he didn't want to disappoint her by being late.
"Okay, cool. Great. I, uh, I really appreciate this. I know you must be having a hard time after everything with Eve."
"Nonsense, Detective. I'm five by five."
The Detective had been right to call him; this case, at first glance, appeared not to be the usual serving the L.A.P.D were used to. A man had been found dead, murdered...with a stake in his heart. Well, technically a broken chair leg, Miss Lopez explained, due to the striations and curling pattern around the base that had left bruising on the chest.
Standing about in the detritus-strewn alley, eyeing the sizeable brick wall at it's end, Lucifer was the first to say it. "This looks like a job for Buffy, not the L.A.P.D. Anyone got the Scooby Gang on speed dial?"
Fortunately for him, Dan wasn't on shift, instead spending the weekend with Trixie, so no one mocked his good humour. Instead, he was treated to a most unexpected reaction.
"You're a Buffy nerd?" Ella gasped excitedly, practically bouncing up and down in her neon-pink butterfly sneakers. "I didn't know you were a Buffy nerd? Awesome!"
"I'm only recently converted," he admitted, for once more than willing to return her avid enthusiasm. "But I am none the less devoted."
"Have you watched it all yet? You know, sometimes when it's really late and the precinct's really empty Chloe and I-"
But he never got to find out what Chloe and Miss Lopez got up to after hours, for the Detective finished talking to the first officers on the scene and said, "The victim was found some time this morning, possibly before sunrise. There wasn't any witnesses to the crime itself, but a local diner owner did claim that he saw a blonde woman acting suspicious, coming out of the alley here. It could be our murderer."
"Or Buffy," Lucifer chimed in helpfully.
Straightening her black blazer, the Detective gave him a searching look. "Lucifer, can I talk to you a sec?"
"Of course, Detective."
Ducking under the crime scene tape, Lucifer followed the pensive woman to her car, watching in amusement as she leaned back against the hood and worried with her ponytail.
"I'm not sure how to say this, so I'm just going to say it." Chloe took a breath. "Are vampires real?" she asked Lucifer, face pinched and yet eyes alight with what could only be curiosity. Mirroring her stance against the car, he crossed his arms and gave her the best answer he could.
"As you now know, demons are very much real. While I enforce strict rules about leaving Hell and coming down to Earth, I can't exactly stop them all, since I'm not actually there. Some probably do drink human blood -some of them are pretty weird, and get up to some really kinky stuff- but as far as the fangs and the brooding and the whole not walking around during the day thing...I can say, with absolute certainty, that there aren't any creatures I know of that to do all those things. If there are, I'd be glad to have a midnight party with them, for sure but still, I think you're alright with this one. I definitely don't think there's any Slayers about, either."
"Why not?" she wondered confusedly.
"Well, because I would have been an irresistible target, being the Prince of Darkness and all," he grinned smugly, rewarded with a sharp eye-roll from the Detective.
"You're hilarious," Chloe sarcastically drawled.
He bowed his head graciously. "I try, Detective. For you, I try."
"So, you really like Buffy then?"
"Of course I do, Detective," he remarked as they made their way back to the crime scene, "what's not to like? A strong, sexy, beautiful, brave blonde who goes out and protects the innocent and great risk to her own life. Someone who's willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, yet stands up for what she believes in and doesn't take orders lying down. Buffy's like Wonder Woman, minus the Invisible Jet and the mystical island, but I suppose she's got better weapons...and better clothes."
"Is that the only reason you like her?"
Lucifer shook his head before replying, "No, I also like her because she's just a girl, but she does heroic things. She might get knocked down, but she always gets back up. She's a fighter, and I've been known to admire one or two of those in my day."
Chloe smiled slightly, lifting the crime scene tape up for him. "Anyone that I'd know?"
"I don't know," Lucifer said, purposefully riling her by not saying what they both knew he truly meant; he could never resist an opportunity to goad Chloe Jane Decker. "You tell me, Detective."
"I think that was one of the easiest cases I ever solved," the Detective mused as she settled back down in her desk chair, typing the last of the case details into her computer.
"Indeed," Lucifer agreed as he updated his Instagram account with his newest profile pic, which was of course Buffy-themed. "The evidence did just seem to fall right in our lap."
"The DNA on the broken glass, the noise complaints from the victims neighbours, all the fights after hours at the school he worked at...I can't believe it took less than a day. Doesn't exactly renew my faith in the sanctity of marriage, though," the Detective exclaimed drily. "I can't believe Sadie was so angry that she killed her husband George with the table-leg he'd been carving in his woodworking class, then dragged his body into the alley where she'd caught him cheating on her with another woman."
"Don't fret, Detective," the Devil ironically tried to console her, "I'm sure your faith in love will be restored soon enough." He rubbed at his face tiredly, musing his perfect hair, but he didn't even take notice. "I can't believe it's nearly Monday. I've got a tonne of paperwork to organize for the health inspector coming over to Lux tomorrow."
"You have health inspectors?" she asked with a raised brow of disbelief, before suggesting, "Can't you just get out of it by offering to do them a favour like you do with most things?"
"What a devious mind you have, Detective," Lucifer grinned, bit the gleeful expression soon died a painful death. "But no, I can't, these things are a necessary evil, I'm afraid: can't have people dropping dead from food poisoning or getting injured from a crumbling ceiling that's not up to code."
"Well, you know I happen to be pretty good at organizing paperwork, it's kinda one of my specialities," Chloe admitted shyly. "Do you want some company? Two heads are better than one, after all."
"Unless you're a giant snake monster," he quipped immediately in response. "Sorry, another BtVS reference, I couldn't help myself."
"You're going to be making a lot of those from now on, aren't you?" the Detective guessed intuitively.
"Most definitely."
"Then I better watch it with you, just to make sure it's as good as I remember it, of course."
He smiled warmly yet. "Of course."
"Have you started season four yet?" she began to ramble as she booted down her computer, tidying away the pens laying about her desk and finishing the last of her coffee all in ten seconds. "Cause if you haven't, you should watch it in sync with season one of Angel for the full effect. Wait, do you know about Angel?"
"I do. They were having a marathon of it the other day and I just happened to catch a minute of it, and I was like, "That's Booth!" and then I started watching and I was entirely confused, so I went back to the start of Buffy."
"You're Team Bangel then?"
The Devil rolled his eyes. "Duh, what other team is there?"
Chloe smirked, eyes alight with mischief. "Oh, boy, are you in for a surprise."
"Are you keeping a ship secret?" Lucifer harrumphed petulantly. "Detective, in the name of our friendship, I command you to tell me!"
"Nah ah, no way am I spoiling this for you, you'll just have to watch it and find out," she sassed, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Rising from his chair, he grabbed the strap and tugged her along behind him in the direction of the elevator, which she surprisingly did not protest.
"Well, then get in the bloody car, woman! We've got places to be and Slayers to watch!"
"Sir, yes, sir," the Detective uttered mockingly.
"Fair warning, we'll need lots of tissues for the first crossover episode; I cried for like a week straight the first time I saw it," she warned him as the elevator brought them out to the parking lot, her shoes clicking beside his in a rhythm he'd grown to appreciate.
"Don't tell me that!" Lucifer frowned. "Now I know I'm gonna get sad."
"It's just a TV show, Lucifer," Chloe reminded him as he opened the passenger side door of his beloved Corvette for her.
"I know that, Detective, but when you're watching it, it feels like more than that. You really start to care about these kids, and end up applying their situations to your own lives, the people you care about. You know, like certain gorgeous blonde Detectives with a penchant for justice and jelly doughnuts..."
Chloe held up a hand, one leg in and one leg out if the car. "Hold on, are you saying that you think I'm like Buffy?" She laughed, crossing her arms as she teased, "I suppose you'd be Angel, then?"
Lucifer snorted at the absurdity of such a suggestion. "Don't be absurd, Detective," he chided her. "I am far more stylish, and have more than half a dozen words in my vocabulary. No, I think I'm more like Spike, punk and cool and witty and incredibly charming."
Chloe smiled, reaching across the console and opening his door for him.
"What?" he asked her as he slid in behind the wheel, the engine soon coming alive with a deep purr as he sped out of the parking lot and out into the bustling metropolis that was downtown Los Angeles at night.
"Nothing, I just think you're probably right," the Detective agreed, the glow from the nearby cars and bars illuminating her face in an alluring mix of light and shadows, "although I can't ever picture you as a blond."
Lucifer shuddered at the thought. "I would clash with everything."
"And," she continued, something in her voice lending a certain level of seriousness to the conversation that Lucifer hadn't anticipated, and certainly not when discussing a fictional character, "I think you're more morally grounded, and you'd never back out on a promise like he did to Buffy when he left her to deal with Angel at the end of season two. Plus, there's some stuff later on in season six that's just- well, that's just not you, even if you were in the same position he was in."
"Gosh, you're such a little spoiler, aren't you?" Lucifer tutted under his breath, the traffic beginning to thicken around them as they passed into some of the more glamorous, celebrity-dotted areas.
Chloe shrugged, nonplussed. "Just trying to give you a compliment."
"You are?"
"I am."
Lucifer smiled beautifically in response. "Well, you can have the last bag of Cool Ranch Puffs, then."
"Aww, you'd do that for me just cause I said something nice about you? That's sweet. Unnecessary, but sweet."
"Well, you are giving up your Sunday night to hang out with me while I sort out paperwork, after literally only just finishing a load yourself," he reminded her as they finally arrived at Lux, the towering obelisk of a building casting a dark shadow over them both as he pulled up to his V.I.P -he had, in the past, thought about changing it to 'V.I.D,' Very Important Devil, but that seemed a little tacky, even for him, and he was the only one that would notice anyway.
Chloe protested fervently, ponytail swinging as she caught his arm, "Hey, I'm not giving anything up; you're," the Detective paused, and it would be a long time coming before Lucifer finally figured out she'd intended to say another word, "you're my best friend, Lucifer, my partner. I'll always want to spend time with you."
"Good. Because I'll always want to spend time with you, too, Detective," he squeezed her hand back before climbing out of the car in a graceful hop he'd perfected after watching too many movies.
"But no matter what, we are not dressing up as Buffy and Angel for the departments annual Halloween Party, got it?" she warned him as she follows him to yet another elevator, only this one was far prettier and had better lighting, especially if one wished to make a dramatic entrance, as the Devil often did.
"Of course. I don't have the hips to pull off those skirts. My talent lies in pulling them off-"
Smacking his arm lightly -hadn't she been all touchy-feely less that half a minute ago? Why couldn't they go back to that?- the Detective shook her head at him, "Alright, alright, I get it, no further illustration needed. I suppose that Halloween is like 'National Lucifer Day' to you?"
"Not at all," he told her honestly, "my favourite holiday happens to be Christmas, friend of toy shops and supermarkets everywhere."
"Christmas? Really?" she inquired dubiously.
Why was that such a surprise? He had layers, damn it!
The Detective continued in that same skeptical tone as the elevator carried them up to the penthouse, "What with all the sappy Hallmark movies and the snow and the peace on Earth? You hate the cold."
"I do," he acknowledged -you didn't live in L.A. if you weren't a fan of a hot, sandy beach, after all- "but I always feel better with presents."
Chloe rolled her eyes, no doubt thinking his answer shallow, materialistic, and childish. "I should have known."
"Yes, you really should have," he agreed as the doors pinged open, welcoming him home. "Wine?"
"Definitely. I can always trust you to keep the fun stuff."
"Well, if someone's going to get you drunk, Detective," Lucifer theorized as he ducked behind the counter, pulling out a bottle of red wine and some glasses, as well as the promised Cool Ranch Puffs, before going over to his safe and getting out all his important documents, "that someone has got to be me."
Chloe laughed, taking off her jacket and settling down on his couch. "Really?"
"Yes, so I can record it at send it to all our friends, of course."
"Hey, that's not fair!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I've bet you've got some supernatural alcohol tolerance or something, so while I'll have like, three glasses and the room will be spinning, you could drink three bottles and not be even remotely buzzed."
"I suppose you'll just have to find out, won't you?" Lucifer teased as he came to sit beside her and flicked on the TV.
"Hand me that bottle. And that paperwork: we need to start with sorting taxes."
The Devil inclined his head. "As you wish, Miss Summers."
The Detective fell asleep after eight episodes of Buffy, then eight of Angel, five glasses of wine, and organizing over two hundred pieces of paper into neat little piles with him, complete with sticky notes and highlights. At the start of the evening, they'd been on opposite ends of the couch, but as the night wore on they migrated closer and closer together, until Chloe closed her eyes and put her head in Lucifer's lap, much to his eternal shock...and immense pleasure. He was so lucky to have her in his life, this incomparable human being who saw all his flaws, knew all his history, and yet still felt safe enough to fall asleep next to him. It was a heady feeling, and he had to admit he could definitely get used to mornings like this, to seeing her sleeping beside him, her hair adorably rumpled, looking far more peaceful and angelic than he could ever remembered being.
Or maybe he was biased; weren't people in love biased?
Well, if he was, he didn't care -not about the love part, but the being biased part: he cared about the love part, very much. Lucifer wanted to tell her how he felt, but he wasn't sure how, or even if he should. It was one thing to accept him as he was, quite another to love him. What if he only drove her away, what if he lost her by trying to gain something more? What if it changed everything between them?
Look at Buffy and Xander, his mind , Look at what happened when he confessed his feelings to her! It was meant to have rained stones. (Apparently at the end of the scene there was supposed to be some pebbles falling from the sky, further signifying the end of the world, but they had to cut it because the scene would have been too long)
Lucifer didn't want it to rain stones. He didn't want rain of any kind; he'd just gotten the Corvette waxed. He'd gone down this road before with her, and he'd gotten hurt, but more importantly, she'd been hurt, by him, when he inevitably pulled away. He didn't care that she was a gift from Dad, didn't care if He'd put her in his path for whatever reason: he just cared that she was here, and that he loved her, and would walk across hot coals just to get her to smile. Not that he'd actually get injured doing that, but he supposed it was the thought that counted.
So, boundaries. Professionalism. Platonic-stuff. He'd be like Angel with Buffy, keeping things strictly on the job, no matter how he felt or how much he wanted to be with her. Poor vampire, those writers had really put him through the ringer, and Lucifer entirely sympathized, and had indeed cried while watching, 'I Will Remember You.' But it was okay, because the two had had a perfect day together, and Lucifer had the hear and now, with her, and that was far more than what he likely deserved, and it was more than enough for him.
By the time he left Earth, Lucifer hadn't finished watching Buffy. So, while he was stuck ruling Hell yet again, he decided to watch the rest of it.
By the last episode, he understood what the Detective had meant about him and her, in relation to Buffy and Spike.
The next time Amenadiel came down to visit him, Lucifer had but two requests: the first was to make sure that Chloe was alright. The second was rather unexpected, but his brother complied nonetheless.
When the angel came back, Lucifer took the tube from him and vanished to the private quarters he kept down here in Hell. Unrolling the tube, he tacked up the poster, a smile on his face for the first time since his arrival in this abysmal, bleak wasteland of a place.
It was a picture of Buffy and Spike, smiling at each other, love shining in their eyes.
Lucifer was now, not surprisingly, officially on Team Spuffy.
Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Welcome to my little 'Lucifer discovers Buffy the Vampire Slayer and becomes totally obsessed and bonds with Chloe over it's fic. This is dedicated to my new, amazing friend moniff, a fellow Lucifer fan as well as Buffy, -you should totally check out her fic if you get the chance- and who I'm working on a special project with!
Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this, and if you did, I'd love it if you left a review.
Had a lovely Friday!
All my love, Temperance Cain.