Endings and Beginnings
When he woke, it was to sunlight, harsh and blinding, burning through the windows to sear through his eyelids. It was mornings like this he found himself grateful there was no such thing as a celestial hangover. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, letting the events of yesterday sink in all over again.
The tight knot in his chest was still there at the thought of it. How could he face her today, now that he knew the unequivocable truth?
She no longer trusted him.
But… wasn't that what this whole thing was supposed to be about though? Proving to her that she could. Showing her that the man she thought he was hadn't been a lie. Surely he could go into work as he always did and start over… yet again.
He didn't know anymore.
All he knew was that he hadn't felt this tired in centuries.
A noise from beside him pulled him from his thoughts, and a smile graced his lips. He'd forgotten he had company. Turning towards his companion, he let his eyes trace over her naked form as she slept facing away from him, the bedclothes intended to cover her long sacrificed to the floor during their night together.
The ache he felt eased as he thought about the perfect distraction for his woes that lay next to him.
It was no surprise to him the distance between them; while he sometimes found his bedmates draped over his body in a morning, it was a rare occasion he didn't move away from them in his sleep.
In fact, only once had he opened his eyes to find that he in fact had been the one to wrap himself around the person sharing his bed, and thankfully she was far too intoxicated at the time to remember exactly why she'd awoken feeling "far too hot in this five star hell hole," as she'd so elegantly put it.
He'd soon gotten out of bed, after that. It wasn't worth the risk of it happening again.
His smile slipped into a lecherous grin as he eased himself across the bed, until he could feel the heat of her against his body. Brushing the hair away from her neck, he pressed his lips there, laving the bite marks he'd previously left with his tongue until he felt her stir.
She chuckled, and the sound filled him with a strangely familiar sensation. The side effect of having spent two delightful evenings with this bewitching woman, he supposed. He moaned as she ground back against him, his hands busy trailing down her side, tracing over her skin until he reached her thigh, where he lingered teasingly.
"Lucifer," she gasped, and he froze.
No.
It couldn't be.
He'd know that voice anywhere.
Reeling, he yanked his hand away as though she'd burned him, scrambling backward across the sheets. She made a small sound of disappointment and rolled over onto her back, confirming his worst fears.
"Eve?! What on earth are you doing here?
She smiled, slow and seductive, before stretching, arching her body away from the mattress in a display that was in no way helping to get his blood flowing in the right direction again. Sighing with pleasure at the delicious stretch of sore muscles, she turned to him, and it took every ounce of self control he had to keep his eyes on her face and not her body.
"On Earth would be rather the point, wouldn't it, my light?" she responded, her dulcet tones and the term of endearment bringing back a flood of memories he'd rather not be thinking about right now.
This was no good. No good at all. Wasn't his life complicated enough, without this?
What was the Detective going to think, if she found out?
He repeated himself. "What are you doing here?"
Her eyes dropped low, and for a second he saw himself reflected in her smile. Something that made sense really, after all, the term bad influence had basically originated with him and her.
"Well, I rather thought I was doing you," she said, the words dripping off her tongue as she crawled across the bed towards him. He felt her pull, he always had, but he resisted, holding up a hand to ward her off and sliding down the bed to recover the bed sheets, pulling them back up over both of them.
He hoped in vain that it would help him to focus.
Raising an eyebrow at his actions, she propped herself up on one elbow, regarding him from across the bed. The covers slipped off her as she moved, exposing one breast.
He tried to pretend to himself that he hadn't noticed.
"I won't ask again, Eve. Why are you here?"
She didn't say a word, simply continuing to stare at him with those deep dark brown eyes of hers, a strange curiosity there within.
"Came up for a little holiday, did you? A day trip perhaps?" he jibed, pushing for an answer.
Those same eyes turned dark as her face grew stony. "Why not, that's what you did, isn't it?"
She had him there.
Before he could respond though, she flopped back onto her pillow with a sigh, her long dark hair fanning out behind her. "Honestly? I got bored."
"Adam not enough to entertain you?" he said teasingly, unable to help himself.
She shot him a look of derision. "We both know he's not."
"Still, darling, bored? You live in paradise, how can you be bored?"
"You got bored of Hell, didn't you?" she fired back.
"Yes, but that's-"
"The same thing, day after day. My experience might not quite be so literal as yours, darling, but anything is torture if it it's repeated enough."
"Not everything," he said with a smirk, before internally cursing himself.
Why was he flirting with her?
"Well, yes. But you were always rather inventive, weren't you?"
She was inching closer; he felt his heart rate speed up in response.
"Still am."
His voice appeared to have dropped an octave without his permission, as he fell so easily back into a rhythm that had been established between the two of them at almost the dawn of time itself.
He was seconds away from just damning it all to hell and giving in, when his eyes caught the sight of the bedside table behind, and the empty bottle of pills that sat there.
She angled her body up towards him, her lips reaching for his. Gently he placed a finger there, stopping her in her tracks before pushing her away.
"Why, Eve? Why the drugs, the pretense? Surely you knew I didn't realise who you were?"
Guilt crossed her face, and she shifted away from him, back onto her side of the bed again. "I did…" she said, carefully considering her answer. "But you seemed so lost. I wanted to take some of your pain away."
Something twisted inside him at her answer. She… cared for him. He'd started to believe he would never have that again.
"It was what you always did for me, in the garden, after all," she explained further.
It was true. They had both been lost, back then. Two souls yearning for something more, something to fill the hollowness inside. They had taken each other's pain away.
She leaned forward just enough as she could rest her hand on top of his. "And it was what you did for me in Hell, too."
His memory of finding her there in her cell was as clear as the day it happened. She wasn't the first human to arrive by any means, and she certainly wouldn't be the last. To see her in that place though… it had only served to bring back the injustice of it all.
For his Father to have created beings capable of free will, only to punish them when they acted upon it. To have created a son, filled with desire, yet condemn him when he longed for that same freedom.
For both of them, Hell had been a sentence undeserved.
And so that day, he had used his burgeoning powers to change her fate. He gave her the garden again, and all that came with it.
It wasn't perfect; after all, he wasn't Him, but at least it was no eternal damnation either.
And for every day thereafter, just as the flaming sword had guarded Eden, so he protected her. She was his, and every demon under his command knew it. They weren't to touch her.
For she was the one to condemn humanity. Who better suited for the Devil's sole attention than her?
"It was the least I could do."
"Yes. It was."
Resentment flashed in her eyes, but it was gone again as quickly as it came. It was a look he hadn't seen from her in millennia. He felt a sharp pang of an all too familiar guilt at the reminder that part of her still held him responsible for what she had lost. That a part of her always would.
"But I remain grateful nonetheless," she said, warmth replacing her acrimony as she smiled kindly. "What you did… I had an eternity of torment ahead and you saved me from that. Eden was a gift."
"A gift that was rightfully yours," he pointed out. "I merely returned it."
Silence fell for a moment, both of them caught up in their memories.
"So, what does Adam think about all of this?" he asked, not wanting to delve further into their long and complicated history right now. Not when there were more important things to be dealing with, like finding out why she was here.
Raising an eyebrow once more, she indicated between the two of them with her finger, a smirk on her lips as she asked a silent question.
"No!" he exclaimed hastily, suddenly feeling flustered. "I mean, you, here, on Earth."
He wondered at that, at how after all this time she could still make him feel like she were the sinful immortal, and he the naive human.
She laughed, and there was a bitter edge to it he hadn't expected. "Considering he was never really real, I doubt he has much objection to the idea."
His face fell. She leaned across the bed, running a hand along his jaw, her thumb tracing where his smile had been. "Do you think me blind, my light?"
A warm glow blossomed inside him at her repeated use of the moniker; he hadn't realised just how much he'd missed her referring to him that way.
Withdrawing her hand, she patted his before rising completely from the bed, her fingers tracing the walls of his bedroom as she lazily explored her surroundings. It didn't take long for him to abandon trying to avert his eyes; hers was a body not designed to be ignored.
He'd always appreciated beauty, in all its forms.
"The Adam I knew is in Heaven," she said, telling him what he already knew. "Exactly where that self-righteous fool told himself he belonged. 900 years is a long time to convince yourself of your innocence, especially when you have someone else to force to bear the burden."
Lucifer scoffed. "He and my Father are well suited."
She smiled at that.
It was one of the many things that had sustained their friendship for so long. They were kindred spirits, of a sort. He, blamed for the misdeeds of men and vilified by all, and she, responsible for fall of mankind itself.
Her cell, her Eden, had been a refuge for him in Hell, somewhere to escape the endless dark and horror that surrounded him day in day out. Never for long, and never too often, lest it arouse suspicion, but it was enough to remind himself that things hadn't always been this way.
That he hadn't always been the Devil.
It was the one thing that helped him hold onto a shred of who he was in that place.
When he started to travel to the surface, he would always bring back part of Earth for her. Books, art, even music. As he learned, so did she. It was his way of showing her, proving to her, that it hadn't all been for naught. That her people may have been cast out, but that something good had come of it.
That she had nothing to feel guilty about.
It had taken millennia for her to accept it. Renounced by both her husband and her God, her beliefs were set in stone. But even stone can be eroded given time, and time was something they had an endless amount of. Eventually, she was able to forgive herself.
He envied her that.
Not that it mattered, in the end. Her fate had been sealed the moment her lips touched the apple, as had his. The gates of Heaven were locked to them both. He might have freed her from her inner torment, but there was nothing he could do to free her from the abyss.
They had both been as trapped as each other.
"I know you meant well…" she said with a sigh. "But the man you gave me he was nothing but a facsimile of a husband I grew to hate, in the end." A wicked smile graced her lips. "Fun to play with, I'll admit, but hardly a substitute for intelligent conversation."
Completing her circuit of the room, she lingered by the bedside table, fingertips tracing the spine of a book from his library, a constant companion these last few weeks on the nights when intoxication would abandon him all too quickly and sleep was to be avoided.
"I blame you for that, you know. Perhaps without you in my life, I wouldn't have tired of him so quickly, been content with a simpler existence."
"I think we both know that's not true," he replied, eyes tracking down her curves. "You would have eaten from the tree eventually, with or without my… encouragement. You were meant for knowledge, darling. He, most decidedly, was not."
She laughed as she walked away from him towards the bar, a sound as melodious as anything he'd ever played on his piano. "I always did wonder if your Father made me from a piece of his brain rather than his rib. It would certainly explain a few things."
It was his turn to laugh then, rolling out from underneath the sheets with practised ease and striding to the bathroom. One short shower later, he entered the living room, a towel around his waist, to find her browsing his library. Her dress still lay discarded upon the floor, and he set about collecting both it and his own abandoned clothing from the night before.
When he tossed the dress in her direction onto the sofa, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.
If she hadn't been naked, the resemblance to a certain detective would have been uncanny.
"So, you work with the police now?" she asked, picking up a manuscript and thumbing through the pages.
He lowered himself into the armchair, crossing his legs. "I'm a consultant, yes."
"Still punishing the guilty even on Earth I see," she said with amusement. "Some things never change."
He frowned at that. "I do it because I want to, Eve, not because He forced me to."
Placing the script back on the shelf, she moved behind him, leaning over to slide a hand from his shoulder to his chest as she spoke into his ear. "I know, my light. Since the moment I met you, you've done things on your own terms. It's one of the things I've always loved about you."
Love.
The word made him feel as uncomfortable now as it had back then. It had been so long since he'd actually felt worthy of love that even the idea of it chafed along his skin, leaving uneasiness in its wake. It wasn't all that long ago that he'd considered for a brief moment it might be possible, but that seemed a lifetime ago now.
Nobody could love the Devil.
"So what services do you provide them with?" she asked, retrieving another book and placing it on the coffee table before sitting down in the adjacent armchair. She crossed her legs, mirroring him.
He tensed, her question hit a little too close to home. Ever since Daniel had invited him back to the precinct for his help with an interrogation, some part of him had wondered; was that the only reason he was there? Without his ability to draw out the desires of these ne'er do wells, would she have abandoned him by now?
Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the thought. The Detective worked with him because she wanted to, not because she had to. It had taken him a long time to realise that, and now it had become the life raft he desperately refused to let go of.
He explained the basics of that, unable to keep the note of pride from his voice when he spoke about how the Detective didn't need him, but worked with him anyway.
Eve listened intently, asking questions where appropriate, and he delighted in telling her the stories of his escapades with his favourite human. It took him back to the days when he would recall his adventures on Earth on his return to Eden, with her hanging on his every word. He'd always enjoyed an audience, and she played the part perfectly.
"So what have you been working together on lately?" she said, interest burning in her eyes.
He faltered.
To say they'd been working together recently felt like too much of a lie.
"Well, we, er… since she saw who I- we haven't really…"
"Oh." She paused, before reaching across and holding his hand sympathetically. He couldn't bring himself to pull away. "I'm sorry."
"But we'll get there," he insisted. "We're partners. We'll be working together again any day now."
That was what he kept telling himself.
"Are you sure she still wants to?"
The question hit like a punch to the stomach.
"I'm sorry… what?" he heard himself say, his voice sounding distant against the growing panic in his mind.
Eve withdrew her hand, looking troubled. "I just worry that maybe she doesn't want to work with you anymore. I don't want to see you hurt, my love."
His heartbeat thudded in his ears. Without knowing, she had just spoken every fear that had been consuming him since he set foot back in the station.
She was wrong though. She had to be.
Of course the Detective still wanted to work with him.
She chose him.
Would she choose you now though?
Yes. Yes she would.
He had to believe that.
"May I borrow this?"
He blinked. The question was an intrusion, but not an unwelcome one. He clung to the distraction, using it to drag himself out of the whirlwind his thoughts had become. When he looked at her though, he knew it was without understanding.
"The book," she prompted gently, pointing at the tome that lay upon the coffee table. "It's been an age since I read anything new."
"Borrowing would imply you're coming back," he pointed out, his words still sounding strange to his own ears.
Did he want her to? He wasn't sure.
"I'd like to," she said, "if you'll have me. I do enjoy your light club."
He found himself smiling, reminded for a moment of how innocent she could be.
How innocent they both were, for a time.
Just as he was about to correct her though, he realised his mistake.
This was Eve; of course she understood.
How many of his patrons had even the slightest inkling that he'd named his home after his most treasured creation? Most believed this place, famed for its decadence and sin, to be titled for the luxuriousness its owner preferred.
But not her.
Because she knew him.
It was… nice. Having someone around that did.
He nodded. "You can return. But this… this can't happen again."
She gave him a knowing look.
"I'm serious, Eve. Things are different now. And I'm not the same person I once was."
Rising from her chair, she approached him slowly, her hips swaying. He watched helplessly, the same appeal she'd always had for him unchanging. When her knees touched his, he uncrossed his legs, allowing her to slide onto his lap.
She made no move to touch him further, her thighs resting on top of his as she straddled him. His hands settled on her hips, drawn to the feel of her silken skin.
"Those who have lived as long as we have, my light, they never truly change. At our core, we remain the same, and to believe otherwise is folly. We are who we will always be, who we were meant to be."
It was a truth he was still trying to deny, despite the evidence to the contrary. Evidence sometimes found looking back at him in the mirror, where eyes of fire reminded him of the darkness inside, the black stain upon his soul that could never be erased.
He was a monster.
When she pressed her lips to his, he didn't resist. He groaned into her mouth, his resolve weakening as he hardened against her. When her teeth caught his lower lip, the sensation, albeit slight, was enough to make him gather his strength and push her away. Eve was many things to him, but nothing on this Earth would make him bend to her.
"You should go," he said, inwardly chastising himself for how breathless he sounded.
She picked up her dress from the sofa, slipping it over her head before sitting back down to strap on the heels Lucifer had placed neatly on the floor beside it. "If you insist," she said, looking up at him from under dark eyelashes.
Certain parts of him may not have agreed, but he nodded regardless. "I do."
As she headed towards the elevator though, he called after her.
"And Eve… about Adam. I'm sorry. I just want you to be happy. It's what I've always wanted."
"I know," she said as she entered, turning back towards him. "As do I, Lehavati."
She pressed the button which would take her to the lower levels and smiled at him as the doors began to close.
"Which is exactly why I'm here."
Lehavati.
My flame.
She only ever called him that when… he let his hand drift up to his face, already knowing what he'd find there. The rough, scarred skin ground against his fingertips, and his hand shook as he removed it. It had happened again, without his consent.
The elevator doors snapped shut, and he blinked as the realisation hit him.
He'd been in his Devil form…
…and she'd kissed him anyway.
She'd kissed him.
The sound of one of the many clocks that littered the shelves of the library hitting the hour shattered the silence.
His eyes widened as he counted the chimes with trepidation.
Late. He was so late.
The Detective was going to be furious.
And to think he'd been hoping to go back in today as if nothing had happened.
Grabbing the pile of clothes he'd folded neatly over the sofa, he rushed into the bedroom to start getting ready. As an afterthought, he reached into his suit jacket, looking for his phone so that he could at least send his apologies.
It wasn't in there.
He swore under his breath.
No doubt he'd left it at one of the many bars he had frequented last night. Briefly, he considered tasking one of his staff to ring around the various establishments, but the thought was quickly abandoned.
He could just get a new one later.
It wasn't as if she ever called him these days anyway.
…
When he arrived at the station, the Detective's desk was empty. He felt relieved; at least he wouldn't be receiving immediate admonishment for his tardiness the second walked through the door.
No sooner had he started to make his way to his usual chair though than he felt a hand upon his back.
"Hey buddy, you're with me today," said Daniel, slapping some case files onto his chest as he crossed into his field of vision. Lucifer caught them automatically, looking between the files and the desk in front of him in confusion.
"But the Detective…"
"Chloe isn't here. She caught a case this morning and wanted to get started straight away. You weren't here, so-"
Worry twisted in his gut. The Detective could handle herself, and yet…
"She's by herself?"
Daniel merely appeared amused by his concern. "She'll be fine. Besides, you know that new guy, Peterson? He's not been assigned anything yet, so he rode with her. She doesn't need you today. I could do with the help though."
It shouldn't have stung, and yet it did, despite him having said exactly the same thing to Eve earlier. He was proud that the Detective didn't need him. He was.
But still.
"C'mon dude. I'm working a case related to Chloe's anyway, so you'd still be helping her out regardless. I've got a ton of potential suspects to work through, and I'd really like a partner on this one."
If the case was connected to the Detective's, perhaps she would need his help later. Reluctantly, he nodded his acquiescence, gesturing towards the interview room.
"As you wish. Lead the way then, Daniel."
The rest of the day passed reasonably quickly, especially after he became bored enough that he started asking those on the other side of the table what they desired almost as soon as they sat down. Throughout the afternoon he would occasionally catch his fellow interrogator looking at him strangely, but then the next interviewee would be brought into the room and the moment would soon be forgotten.
When they'd finished, it was almost time for Daniel to relieve the babysitter currently monitoring the spawn. They were both in the break room, a well deserved, if undeservedly substandard, coffee awaiting them. A hand clapped him on his shoulder. "I gotta say, dude, it was fun working with you today! I mean, I know I called what you do a parlor trick before, but to see it in action like that…" Daniel let out a low whistle.
Lucifer couldn't help but feel a little proud. And he had to admit, it hadn't exactly been awful working with the detective either. They'd done it often enough now that it was bearable, although not as enjoyable as working with his Detective, obviously. Speaking of whom...
He looked towards her desk through the open door, relieved to see a flash of blonde there. Daniel followed his light of sight and shook his head.
"It's no wonder you and Chloe close so many cases. If you made my life this easy every day, I'd keep you around too!"
Daniel may as well have stabbed him in the chest. Lucifer barely heard his goodbyes as he left, unable to focus on anything other than the Detective, her hair falling over her face as she bent over the desk to examine whatever document lay there.
Had he been right all along? Was he nothing more than a tool to the Detective now? That was the reason she'd allowed him to come back to work after all, and she hadn't referred to him as her partner since… since…
No. It couldn't be that. This was just going to take time, that's all. If the Detective merely wanted to use him as a means to an end, he'd already be working with her, would he not?
Instead, she sent you to work with Daniel, where you were needed…
He was being preposterous. She may not trust him with her offspring anymore, but he'd given her no reason not to trust his work. He hadn't put a foot out of line since his return, and surely… surely it was about time she acknowledged that.
And perhaps, it was time to find out for certain. Gathering his courage, he rose from his seat and strode over to her.
"Detective."
She startled at the sound of his voice. "Lucifer! What are you still doing here?"
He decided to start slow, not wanting to push.
"Daniel informs me that the case we've been working on today directly impacts yours. I thought it might be prudent for me to relay our findings?"
To his amazement, she smiled. It was slightly forced, yes, but it was a smile nonetheless. It sparked a hope within him that he had sorely missed.
"No need," she said, shuffling the papers in front of her together and banging them into a neat pile. "Dan will debrief me in the morning, and until then, I've got these to keep me occupied." She put the stack of paper down to the side and picked up another.
He pulled his chair closer and sat down. If he were honest, it had been a relief to see the seat still there in its spot these last few weeks; a symbol that one day things might return to how they once were. He looked for signs of that everywhere these days.
"Perhaps I can assist?"
"Really Lucifer, it's okay," she said, even so much as glancing up from what was reading. "I got this."
Disappointment ran through him. Resigned, he braced his hands on the arms of the chair, preparing to leave.
"But-"
He froze. It was almost as if the rest of the world did too, with how long it felt like it took her to continue.
"I think it's about time we talked."
Slowly, he eased himself back down again, suddenly nervous about what she was about to say.
Was it time? Was his hard work about to pay off?
"Lucifer, I know-," she paused, taking a deep breath before meeting his eyes. "I know… that you're ready to move on. And... I think I am too."
A joy unlike any he'd ever felt rushed through his veins.
It was happening, it was finally happening.
All he wanted to do was reach across the desk and take her hand. But he forced himself to stay still, unsure if it would be welcome. Not yet.
Instead, he said, "Because going backwards is not good for anyone."
She smiled at the echo of her own words, and this time, it was genuine.
"Exactly. So it's settled then. We move forward. Get back to work, get on with the case."
The grin he held back was threatening to crack his face wide open. Inside, his heart was singing.
"Agreed, Detective."
"Good." She breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good. So if you and Dan-"
Everything stopped.
"You wish me to partner with Daniel?"
She seemed to barely notice his change in tone, her focus already drifting back on the paperwork in front of her as she scribbled down something in the margins. "It make sense right now. I don't need you, and Dan does."
I don't need you.
I don't want you.
Maybe she doesn't want to work with you anymore.
"You don't want to work together?"
How he managed to sound so calm, he had no idea. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, which grew tighter with every breath, an invisible hand choking the life out of him, made from her rejection.
She frowned, her annoyance at being distracted from getting back to her task by the repeated question plain. "Can we talk about this later, Lucifer? I'd like to get home at some point this evening. You and Dan haven't had any problems today, have you?"
He shook his head silently, unable to form words at that moment.
"Well, okay then. I've already started working with Peterson, so it makes sense to carry on doing that moving forward. Let's just get this case wrapped up as quickly as possible, yeah?"
He couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be over. Could it?
Forcing himself to stand, he stuffed his shaking hands in his pockets so she wouldn't see. "If that is what you desire," he said. He didn't phrase it as a question, but he meant it as one, one he hoped she'd deny.
She didn't.
One last time, he looked at her, taking in the vision he knew so well. His hard working Detective, her head buried in paperwork, the harsh light from the desk lamp still managing to somehow only illuminate her beauty.
"Goodbye, Detective," he said, wondering if she would hear the finality in his voice.
He was halfway to the stairs when she responded, the mumbled reply of somebody not really listening. Somebody who hadn't even noticed he'd already left.
"See you tomorrow, Lucifer."
She wouldn't.
…
The journey back to Lux was a blur. Whether he drove or flew, he had no idea, his dishevelled appearance quite possibly the result of either. It didn't matter. Nothing did anymore.
The feelings were too much. He wanted to be empty, hollow. He needed it, no, he craved it.
And there was only one person he knew who could help him with that.
He stumbled through the crowd, frantic, searching, until at last he saw her. She sat in one of the many booths that lined the edges of the club, holding court amongst her many admirers. A beauty such as she drew suitors like a moth to a flame. Little did they know how she would burn them.
It wasn't just his desire that had been their undoing.
When she saw him, she rose, her supplicants forgotten in an instant. As he reached her, he collapsed, falling to his knees before her. She knelt gracefully in front of him, cupping his face in her hands in such a way that only served to further tear his heart in two, a painful reminder of the only other woman to have ever shown him such devotion.
The woman who no longer wanted him in her life.
"Make me forget," he begged, his eyes wild. "Please."
And so she did.
…
"He resigned!"
Chloe burst through the door, waving the letter she'd found on her desk that morning in the air, barely noticing how Linda practically leapt out of her chair at the intrusion.
"Can you believe it? One case, one case I asked him to work with Dan on, and he does this!"
Slamming the piece of paper down on the sofa, she slumped down beside it, her head in her hands. Letting out a sound of frustration, she dragged her fingers through her hair as she looked up at Linda.
"I thought he wanted to work with me again? Hasn't that what the past few weeks have all been about?!"
Slowly, Linda got up from her chair, walking over to the office door and closing it quietly.
Chloe suddenly felt guilty. "I'm sorry, you've probably got clients, and I just barged in…"
"That's quite alright, Chloe," Linda said, taking her usual chair. "I don't have any appointments until this afternoon, I'm just here to catch up on paperwork this morning."
"No, really, I should go, I-"
"Really, it's fine. You'd be surprised how often it happens." She smiled, mostly to herself. "Or perhaps you wouldn't, actually. Why don't you start from the beginning?"
Already halfway up from the couch, Chloe hesitated, then sat down again. She picked up the letter, attempting to smooth out some of creases from where she'd balled it up in anger earlier, before leaning forward to hand it to Linda.
The doctor scanned it, but Chloe had no need to do the same anymore, the words now seared into her brain she'd read it that many times.
Detective,
Given that you are no longer in need of my services, I would ask that you consider this to be my letter of resignation. A more formal notification has been provided to your superiors.
L. Morningstar.
"More formal," Chloe scoffed. "More formal! As if it could get more formal than that!"
"What-"
She didn't even pause for breath.
"Nearly two years we've worked together, and this is all I get? No goodbye, no thanks for everything? Just that he thinks I don't need him anymore. Which, by the way, is ridiculous."
It was enough to make her stop for a second. Did she just admit that she still needed him? Needed him to work with her, or…?
"Chloe," Linda say, finally managing to get a word in edgeways. "Slow. Down. What happened exactly?"
She explained what had happened. How she knew he'd moved on. How she'd said she wanted to do the same. How he'd agreed.
How she couldn't understand how it had come to this.
"What makes you think Lucifer has moved on?"
Chloe played with the edge of her sleeve for a moment. "I went to see him, at Lux, like I said I would."
"Oh?" Interest flared in Linda's eyes, and she shifted forward a little on her seat. Chloe had to wonder how much of that interest was personal rather than professional. "And how did that go?"
"Not great." Her eyes stayed firmly fixed on the button she was now nervously picking at on her cuff. "He was with someone else."
"Did that surprise you?"
Chloe knew what she meant. Lucifer wasn't exactly known for having no one to warm his bed at night.
"No… it's just…"
She didn't know how to explain it. Didn't know how to explain just how devastating it had been to see him looking at another woman that way.
"There was something about her, that's all."
"Something that made you feel jealous?"
Chloe shook her head. No, that wasn't it. She'd been jealous over Lucifer in the past, sure, but after all they'd been through together… well.
She'd thought what they had was special.
Apparently, she'd thought wrong.
"I didn't think he'd move on so quickly," she confessed, feeling deflated.
"Chloe... " Linda gave her a small smile. "I highly doubt that's the case."
"You didn't see him with her."
"No," Linda said, "But I've seen him with you."
She didn't know what to say. There was part of her that wanted to believe that. But the realistic part, the one that hadn't forgotten what she'd witnessed in the club that night, it refused to let go of her heart, weighing it down. Either she was as special to him as Chloe herself had been, or both of them were just like all the others.
Both options were painful beyond measure.
And there was nothing the doctor could say that would change that.
It was Linda who broke the silence first.
"So what do you think caused this? Specifically I mean," she said, handing the letter back to Chloe, who couldn't stop herself from casting her eyes over it once more, before gripping it so tightly it crumpled in her hand.
"It had to have been asking him to work with Dan, I can't think of anything else. I don't understand. They've worked together before, they were working together on this case yesterday! So what's his problem all of a sudden?"
Linda paused, considering. "We've talked recently about how strained your partnership with Lucifer has become. Is it possible he may have mistaken your intention?"
She thought about their conversation, about the look on his face when she suggested he continue the investigation with Dan.
You would have thought she'd said she didn't want to work with him at all anymore.
Closing her eyes, she grimaced. Because that's exactly what he thought, wasn't it?
Don't you want to work together, Detective?
How could she be so stupid? This was Lucifer. And even worse, this was Lucifer who was already on tenterhooks whenever he was around her. Of course he'd read too much into it.
She groaned, and Linda gave her a sympathetic, but knowing smile.
"I tried calling him," Chloe said, "after I found the letter. I mean, I was angry, so it probably wouldn't have helped if I had been able to talk to him, but..."
She pulled out her phone from her pocket, hitting number one on the speed dial and holding the screen towards Linda to demonstrate. The answerphone kicked in immediately, Lucifer putting on his best sultry voice to invite callers to leave a message after the moan.
Chloe fought the urge to roll her eyes. That was actually one of the tamer recordings she'd heard during the course of their partnership.
"I must have dialed his number a dozen times this morning at least. He rejected every single call. And now he's turned it off."
It hurt, the reminder of when he'd done exactly the same after disappearing off to Vegas opening a wound that had never quite healed. Since then though? He either answered immediately or called her back straight away. He'd never done this.
And it worried her.
"Have you spoken to him?" she asked. Linda winced slightly, her awkwardness over how to respond to the question obvious. Chloe corrected. "Not as his therapist I mean, but as a friend. He is your friend, right?"
Linda still looked unsure.
"He is," she said carefully, "but we haven't spoken in… a while."
Chloe frowned. "You're still seeing him though?"
She could see she was making the doctor uncomfortable, but she couldn't help it, she had to know. Without really meaning to, she found herself fixing her with her hard stare, the one that tended to make even the toughest criminals talk if she was patient.
"I haven't seen or spoken with him since the day he sent me to you," Linda admitted.
That couldn't be good. "But he needs you."
"Which is exactly what I told him."
"I don't understand," Chloe said, trying to put the pieces together in her mind. "Why would he… and you said he sent you to me? You never said..."
"He told me not to." Linda shook her head. "I think maybe he thought you wouldn't accept my help if you knew."
Even after everything that had happened, he was still putting her first, and to his own detriment as well. That stupid, foolish man. It was just like him to push people away when he needed them the most.
"What did he say… when you spoke to him?"
"Not much." Linda shifted her eyes to the floor. "He told me what had happened, and where I should find you."
"Where you should- He was watching me?"
"I imagine he wanted to make sure you were okay."
Images of blood stains feathers and discarded bullets flashed before her eyes. "Was he okay?"
"I-" Linda hesitated, looking up at her with worry in her eyes. "I don't know. He sounded… in pain."
Silently, Chloe cursed herself. She should have known he would have gotten himself injured somehow. He would throw himself off a cliff if it meant she wouldn't get hurt. But she'd been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn't even thought…
"I tried texting, calling," Linda continued, "but it wasn't until a few days later that he finally responded. He said he was fine. Which by then, he would have been. Physically at least. He also said I should concentrate on your therapy from now on. I disagreed. When he didn't reply, I tried visiting him at the penthouse to talk... but the elevator was locked."
She gave Chloe a grave look, and Chloe understood what she meant perfectly. Lucifer never locked that elevator. Never.
"Will you talk to him?" she asked.
Somebody has to. Somebody he'll listen to.
"Chloe…" Linda sighed. "I'm your therapist now. It's not my place to play mediator between you the two of you, especially when Lucifer has made it quite clear he doesn't want to talk to me."
Chloe glanced at the letter again. "I'm not asking you to play mediator. I'm just worried about him. And I know you are too."
She could see the moment Linda gave in.
"Okay. I'll try. But Chloe, if he doesn't want to see me…"
"I know," she nodded. "I know."
It was nearly time for Linda's first patient. After the doctor assured her she'd visit Lucifer as soon as she could, Chloe stepped out into the waiting room and slumped down into one of the chairs there.
Retrieving her phone, she brought up Lucifer's contact details, staring at the list of unanswered calls. She wouldn't fill his inbox full of messages again; she refused to. Not after last time. But she could call Lux…
No.
She'd done the right thing. Gotten him the help he needed, if indeed he needed it at all. If anyone could get through to him, it was Linda.
Because it was obvious he wasn't going to be speaking to her anytime soon.
She sighed. Maybe it was time for her to just put the phone away and leave it to the professionals.
And so she did.