A/N: Couldn't seem to get this scene out of my mind once it came to me, so here it is.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Just borrowing. No copyright infringement intended.
Lucifer lifted the crime scene tape. "After you, Detective."
Chloe ducked underneath it and followed the path alongside the house to the backyard. The body was lying on the opposite side of the inground pool. Dan stood talking to the first officer on the scene. She headed their way.
Lucifer ambled along behind her, sporting his usual glee. He snagged a bottle of wine that sat neglected on an outside table. "Someone knows how to have fun," he approved as he checked the label.
Dan had turned toward them, and he gave Lucifer a baleful glare. "This is a homicide. Show some respect for once, would you?"
"Whatever for? How many times do I have to tell you humans? She's not going to know the difference if she's already—Oh, bloody hell!" Lucifer stopped short as he stared past them toward the body of their female victim, the wine sloshing against the sides of the bottle as he waved his hand outward in aggravation. "And you accuse me of not following standard protocol? I mean really." He slammed the bottle back down on the table, while Chloe and Dan both swivelled around as one to follow his line of sight. Several crime scene techs were gathering around the body to process the scene. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, they turned back to Lucifer with incredulous looks.
"Lucifer, what—" Chloe began, but Lucifer was already marching past them, heading straight for the body.
Dan quickly intercepted him. "They haven't finished processing the scene yet," he objected.
"And just as well, isn't it?" Lucifer quipped with marked antagonism.
This only irritated Dan further. He was clearly being accused of something, but as usual he had no idea what he was being accused of. "For the last time, Lucifer, this is a homicide, if you're not going to—"
"Oh a homicide, is it?" Lucifer announced snidely. "Are you quite sure?"
There was an unusual edge to Lucifer's tone and an urgency to his mannerisms that was sending off alarm bells in Chloe's mind.
Dan hadn't noticed. When Lucifer made an attempt to manhandle him aside, he stood his ground. "Standard protocol," — he thrust a finger into Lucifer's chest for emphasis—"dictates we consider it a homicide until proven otherwise."
"Well done, Douche!" Lucifer slapped Dan's shoulder—hard. "And does protocol not also dictate the victim be dead before we consider it homicide? Of course, you're doing a fine job of making sure that happens anyway, aren't you?" Lucifer was preparing for a blow that would easily remove Detective Douche from his path, when Chloe inserted herself between them, palm to Lucifer's chest.
"Okay, can we just—" She stopped short. "Wait...what did you just say?"
Dan was still glaring.
"Bloody Hell," Lucifer swore again loudly. "Must I spell it out? Very well, then. She's. Not. Dead. Not yet, anyway. Is that clear enough for you?"
Dan blinked. Sputtered. "But that's—not—"
The two crime scene techs, photographer, three uniform officers, and Dan, all stood motionless and gaping in stunned disbelief.
Chloe was already moving. She pushed past one of the techs. Her knees hit the stone beside the girl lying prone on her back—lips blue, body dead and lifeless.
Except that she wasn't.
Chloe's own heart skidded and stopped when she felt the faint pulse beneath her fingertips.
"Someone call an ambulance, now!"
Chloe was still reeling. She'd already given the first officer on the scene a stern lecture on ensuring one remembered to check for a pulse before securing the scene. It was an honest mistake, albeit an unacceptable one, even if the girl had appeared dead. Regardless, if she was being honest it wasn't this that had her mind reeling now.
It was Lucifer.
It was always Lucifer.
She found him lounging against the side of the house beside the crime scene tape, phone in hand. He lowered it when she approached. "Detective, why the long face? We just stopped a murder," he rejoiced with his usual exuberance. "No thanks to Detective Douche, I might add."
She cut to the chase. "How did you know?"
"Hm?"
His attention had already deviated back to the phone, thumb flying over the keys. Chloe bit back her frustration. She lifted her hand to cover his and thwart its motion. He raised his eyes back to her face, and there may have been a glimpse of something before it was gone. Then his brow went up. Back to devil-may-care.
She dropped her hand. "How did you know she was still alive?" Chloe persisted.
"That's what you've come to ask me? I'd think it obvious, wouldn't you?"
She gave him a withering look.
"All right." His face was mocking now as he looked back at her, daring her to reject another one of his elaborate metaphors. "The devil is also an angel, Detective, and angels always know if a soul has passed on or not. It's really quite standard if you think about it. Of course, dear old Dad doesn't like it when we—"
"Stop." Chloe rubbed her temples. She didn't know why she kept asking and expecting a different answer.
"If you don't want to hear the answer, Detective, you really shouldn't ask the question."
She dropped her hands. "You're right." She took a breath. Looked up at him again. Nodded. Turned. Stopped. Turned back. Impossible. Then she said, "However you did it, you saved that girl's life."
He stared back at her. Looked away. "Well, if you'll excuse me"—he lifted his phone by way of explanation—"I've some business to attend to."
Devil-may-care was back.