A/N: It's here!

And, slowly but surely, we're getting closer to the actual plot, still dealing with the aftermath of Lucifer's reveal.

The name of the Broken Hearts Killer's copycat, according to the IMDB, is Joel. The last name that I chose — Andrews — is in honour of the actor who plays him, Andrew Leeds.

Enjoy!


Chapter 4: What Can You Tell Me Now


The first rays of sunlight illuminated the skyline of Los Angeles, making it look like bright flames were slowly swallowing the darkness of the night. Lucifer didn't get to see sunrise too often, not bothering to acknowledge something so trivial, when his mind and body were occupied with far more pleasant things. All the more he was bewildered how effective simply watching the rising daily star would be with calming his raging heart.

Taking a huge sip of his scotch, he slid open the balcony door, a blow of fresh air hitting his half-naked body. A quiet sigh escaped his lips, as his bare feet came into contact with a cold tiled floor of the balcony. Although his eyelids felt heavy, his heart was even heavier, his mind buzzing with endless thoughts of what had just transpired between him and the Detective, and it didn't let him get a wink of sleep.

Having tossed and turned restlessly, tangled in his sheets, he had quickly given up trying to fall asleep. There was too much to think through and he couldn't help himself but wander around the penthouse, hoping that an energetic stroll through the rooms would help him with appeasing an emotional turmoil that took over his mind at the moment.

Lost in a mess of his thoughts, he didn't even notice when his wings unfurled, which only made him more agitated. The pesky things followed him everywhere like a shadow—a reminder of who his father wanted to make him—and he could hardly believe that there had once been a time when he had been puffed up with pride because of their magnificence. The divine beauty of them only infuriated him these days, though, making losing his face—the one thing he had gotten to earn on his own—even more difficult to bear.

Now, however, with beams of rising sun caressing snow-white feathers and a light breeze dancing around each of them, he felt oddly at ease. Although a bit panicked thought that someone might witness this daring angelic display flashed through his mind, it was quickly silenced by the realisation that the only person whose reaction he cared about most had already seen it.

As much as he had dreaded that moment, a significant weight had been pulled off from his chest when he had finally given her proof that she needed to believe him. Such an action was very unwise of him, its consequences difficult to predict. Moreover, the thought of losing her for good—even if it would lead to the Detective enjoying her life just like she should—filled him with trepidation nonetheless. Despite doubts whether it had been a good idea after all still tucking at his heart, he chose to deliberately ignore them, reeling from Chloe's incomprehensibly positive reaction. He was truly torn, never having faced a situation like that—never having cared so much about somebody else.

She had occupied even more of his thoughts lately, to the point that he wasn't in the mood for partying, sex, drugs, or even doing favours—he didn't indulge as enthusiastically as normally in either of his usual activities. It all had started concurrently with that whole Cain fiasco, at the same time as the realisation that he had been too damn successful in pushing Chloe away for his own good. However, his certainty that it had been it—that his relationship with the Detective was doomed to change, so that he wouldn't be such an important part of her life anymore—wavered right now, Chloe's angry confession of her feelings for him playing on repeat in his mind. Even if he didn't let himself believe in a realness of her words, a small flame of hope had ignited deep in his heart on its own accord, growing only stronger when she had asked him to stay.

Lucifer snorted softly, shaking his head in disbelief. His fussing over the issue of his emotional confusion made him only overly poetic, his persistent contemplation lacking any significant results. He downed his nearly forgotten drink quickly, hiding his wings with a disappointed shake of his head.

The sun was already hovering over the tallest buildings in the city, indicating that his rumination had lasted longer than it appeared. It only meant that it was high time for him to get ready for his morning appointment with Linda. Casting the last quick glance at the breath-taking view before him, he slowly stepped back into the penthouse, putting his glass down at the coffee table, his mind occupied for a change with choosing a proper outfit for the day. He also made a mental note that grabbing coffee on his way to the Doctor's office would do wonders for his fatigue.


Lucifer seemed at ease, sprawled snugly on Linda's couch. In all honesty, she had expected that he would show up in a much worse state, dishevelled or worn out, if his slightly wavering raw voice during yesterday's conversation was any indication. However, him strolling vigorously into her office, offering her gingerly a cup of coffee, had exceeded all her expectations.

She was still watching him with interest, listening closely to his recounting of yesterday's confrontation with Chloe. Fearing that it had been a serious emergency, her curiosity had only grown when he had started telling her about his evening that had apparently centred around an argument with the Detective.

"She demanded to know why I—went to Vegas back then and she couldn't understand when I explained that I couldn't tell her," he narrated coolly, interlacing his fingers on his lap. "Then, I got pretty annoyed—she can be bloody persistent sometimes—and I—I might have slipped out that I love her," Lucifer admitted reluctantly and Linda could tell he was irritated by his own actions. "The Detective, obviously, shared the sentiment," he added bitterly, with a short glance at the ceiling.

Linda had to admit that it was rather close to the end of the list of things she had expected to hear this morning. His late-night call had made her think that something really bad had happened and she could hardly call this bad.

"So, you basically confessed your love to each other?," she said plainly in what was more of a statement than a question.

Lucifer nodded slowly. "In a way, yes," he confirmed, but without even a trace of excitement or joy in his expression. "Although it didn't look like I'd been expecting."

Linda tilted he head, her curiosity begging her to ask for more details. "Was it your first such a confrontation?"

He looked to the side, his mind clearly trying to find any corresponding memories. "I believe so," he said carefully after a few moments, a frown setting over his face.

Linda nodded to herself. "What was her reaction?," she asked, her eyes sweeping through his expression in search for any clues as to what had happened and what impact it had on Lucifer.

"She got pretty furious when I told her it hardly mattered," he confessed grudgingly, a small grimace betraying how much it actually bothered him.

"'Hardly mattered'?," Linda echoed quizzically, raising a single brow.

Lucifer sighed heavily, his eyes locked at the ceiling for a moment. "Oh, you know about the nature of the Detective's origin, Doctor," he said a bit impatiently, as if she was forgetting a very important detail. "And it is exactly why whatever feelings I may have for her are irrelevant," he explained, looking at her seriously, his expression sour.

Linda shook her head firmly. "No feelings are ever irrelevant, Lucifer," she pointed out calmly, earning an eye roll from him.

Apparently, he was about to say something, probably completely disregarding her statement, his lips already parted, when a quiet ping stopped him short. He reached to his pocket for a phone and Linda instantly spotted a wince appearing on his face as soon as he glanced at the screen. Lifting the device closer to his eyes, he swiftly unlocked it and tapped the screen a few times, before putting the phone back in his pocket.

"Was it—?" Linda didn't get the chance to finish her question, though, as he quickly went on to answer her, as though he wasn't too keen on talking about a message he had just received.

"Yes." Having neatened his suit nimbly, he looked back at her, his lips pursed. "The Detective probably wonders where the hell I am."

Linda stared at him, taken aback by that declaration. "Oh, she still wants to see you, then," she said incredulously, a small smile growing on her lips.

"To wrap up our recent case," Lucifer clarified promptly.

"So, she's no longer angry at you?," Linda asked further, bewildered at the way that whole situation was unravelling.

"That I do not know, quite frankly," he admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat. "But, the truth is my—," he gulped, as if words he was about to say filled him with dread, "—love confession wasn't actually—the highlight of the evening," he revealed cautiously, seemingly careful to use the right words.

Which only piqued Linda's curiosity even more. "Do tell."

"I—She demanded answers so stubbornly that I couldn't stop myself from showing her them." He glared over his shoulder with reluctance, a disdain palpable in his expression.

Linda slowly blinked, processing implications of his words. "You did it?," she asked quietly, astonished. "And how did she react to that?"

"Better than I'd assumed." He snorted, a sour smile on his lips. "Honestly, I was counting on her to throw me out, saying that she didn't want to see me ever again," he said with evident disappointment.

Linda furrowed her eyebrows. "Why?" She tilted her head, folding her arms.

"Oh, I thought it would be a splendid opportunity to make a clean cut," Lucifer explained pointedly, throwing his arms into the air, as if he was talking to a clueless child. "If she didn't want to know me anymore, I wouldn't even have a reason to come back."

Linda was silent for a moment, thoroughly processing the meaning of his words. There was a few aspects of that statement that worried her, but working through it had to wait. "Okay, that's something we'll have to address later," she decided, adjusting her glasses swiftly. "I've meant to ask you why you assumed she would throw you out?"

He gave her an incredulous look, as if she missed something clearly obvious. "Because I am the Devil, of course." His supposedly calm voice had an audible strain of bitterness that Linda couldn't ignore. "No human in their right mind would like to have the Lord of Hell in their home."

Linda had to agree with that conclusion, but such reasoning didn't seem do apply in that situation. "You have a point, but she didn't do it. And I can tell it perplexes you," she observed, giving him a pointed look.

Lucifer pursed his lips, once again looking away. "Perhaps. I—I doubt that would be her real reaction to all of this," he admitted hesitantly, his doubts as clear as day.

The therapist took a deep breath, realising that all of his concerns came down to his conviction that Chloe was nothing more than a pawn in his Father's enigmatic plan. "How do you know it's not?," she asked.

"It's obviously Dad's doing," Lucifer groaned tiredly. "He is trying to assure His plan succeeds and it involves influencing Chloe's behaviour, so that she would want to stick by my side no matter what," he complained, clearly frustrated by such a perspective.

"Or, she needs some time to come to terms with that information and she doesn't want to lose her partner in the process, hence she's acting as if it wasn't anything so ground-breaking," Linda offered instead, with a light smile, hoping that this time she might actually get to him at least a little. "And still treating you just like the man she knows—her partner she's been working with for quite some time now—not the actual Devil—may be helping her to cope with this," she elaborated steadily, watching as Lucifer slightly frowned. "And she may actually want to stick by you."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Doctor," he said bitterly, his voice quiet, yet firm.

"If a mental breakdown is what you're expecting, it might happen, actually at any point now," Linda added with a sigh. Sometimes his pessimism started to really irritate her. "People process such revelations differently, so I'm not capable of telling how she will behave," she said explicatively.

Then, she almost missed a twinkle in Lucifer's eyes, indicating he had, all over again, just come up with a 'brilliant' solution, having twisted her words to his own liking. "And what if I sent her to you?," he asked, a smile slowly raising in the corners of his lips, his eyes dark and focused on her face.

Although Linda at first wanted to roll her eyes at his obvious deflection, his proposition didn't in fact sound that absurd. "Well, actually, it's not a terrible idea," she admitted unwillingly, biting her lip.

He grinned smugly and she knew that she wouldn't see any of his vulnerable side anymore today. "Lovely. I'll do just that, then." He stood up, fixing his suit in one swift motion. "Thank you very much, Doctor. It was pleasure to talk to you, just like always." He nodded, his signature smile plastered over his face, even if Linda could spot a shadow of entirely different—much more sombre—emotion in his eyes.

She followed him suit, raising from her chair. "Lucifer, wait, we have to—," she tried, but her attempt to stop him—just like usual—turned out to be fruitless.

Having already turned towards the door, he just waved his hand, glancing at her over his shoulder. "I need to rush. 'Bye, 'bye, Linda."

Before Linda could even blink, he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him. A heavy sigh left her lips, as she went back to her desk. It was one of those moments when she was wondering if she was capable of actually helping him, since every time she thought they were about to make a breakthrough, with him realising something important about himself, Linda met a very strong resistance that clearly frustrated not only her, but also the Devil himself. Well, at least she had plenty of things to talk about during the next session.


Usually, stepping into the precinct was significantly raising his spirits, a perspective of another day of solving crimes with the Detective positively thrilling. Sometimes, even at days like this one—filled with sifting through paperwork—he would turn up with a grin anyway, ready to earn one more of those reluctant, but warm smiles from her at his antics that she must've found irritatingly amusing. Despite the occasional family business or his own interests he had to deal with, working with her brought a sense of normalcy into the divinity of his life and he couldn't help but cherish every moment of it.

That was before his great reveal, though, and he was wondering how much things would change from now on. A prospect of losing all of it—her and people that were close to her—filled him with dread, but at the same time he doubted he would ever deserve any of this. The Devil didn't care about anybody else but himself, after all.

His fingers curled tighter around a paper cup he was holding, as he slowly descended down the stairs, every step careful and a bit hesitant. He couldn't believe himself and his childish anxiety—he was eons old, for Dad's sake, he shouldn't feel like a sweating teenager about to talk to his crush for the first time. He rolled his eyes at how fitting that metaphor seemed, even though it was utterly ridiculous.

Lucifer paused at the bottom of the stairs, the Detective's desk and its owner right in front of him. Luckily for him, she didn't spot him at first, fully immersed in documents before her. Something clearly must have piqued her interest, as she was studying them closely, leaning on one of her hands with a frown.

For a moment, he pondered whether coming here wasn't a mistake. The fact that yesterday she had wanted him here didn't mean that after a night of thinking and sleep she wouldn't change her mind, having realised what his reveal really meant. It was the last moment to retreat, if he wanted to pretend that he had never even been here, as silly as it was.

Lucifer took a deep breath, scolding himself mentally for considering giving up. There still was a slight chance that she did want him in her life, even if it was happening in accordance with Dad's dubious plan, and he couldn't refrain from approaching Chloe's desk, though his step had lost all of his former spring.

It turned out that standing next to the desk and hovering above her silently wasn't enough to get her attention, so he cleared his throat, ready to greet her with his trademark grin, when her head shot up quickly, as if he had actually startled her.

Lucifer frowned at her sudden reaction. However, before he could ask her about anything, she stood up quickly, sparing a brief glance at the Lieutenant's office. Obviously. "You're finally here," she observed bluntly, walking around the desk. "Great, I was about to question my would-be murderer and I could use your—mojo," she threw in his direction, not stopping next to him even for a second and going straight to the interrogation room instead.

Lucifer blinked, dumbfounded. In his surprise, he completely forgot about keeping up a smug look, concern written all over his face. "Detective, are you—?"

She didn't let him finish, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm fine," she said, albeit her voice lacked some of its usual conviction. "Just—a little bit on edge here, but there's nothing that will help me now better than work," she explained hastily.

It was positively puzzling how she acted as if no development had been made just a day before—as if they were investigating the case just like they always did. Despite that, as collected as she seemed, her perceptiveness was seemingly somewhat diminished, as she didn't even acknowledge the cup of coffee he was holding.

Lucifer rushed after her, barely catching up with her fast pace, and grabbed her arm lightly, forcing her to stop. Turning around to face him, she gave him an annoyed look. Only then did she see what he was trying to hand her.

Chloe looked down sheepishly, taking the cup from him, evidently upset at herself with how rushed she was. "Thanks, Lucifer," she muttered, a grateful smile touching her lips.

He gave her a warm look in response, almost as surprised by this little gesture of kindness as she was. It only seemed right, though, to show her that he did care, even despite his previous attempts to push her away.

The Detective took a sip of a hot beverage, turning back to the door, while Lucifer realised that there was no need for eliciting a confession from the killer. "I caught him swinging a hammer, intending to use it on—you, Detective," he said as she was about to enter the interrogation room. He still could see that scene playing out in his mind—if he had come there just a second later… A shiver ran down his spine at that thought. "I believe it's proof enough of his guilt," he added matter-of-factly, hoping that he wouldn't have to see the man's face ever again—he might not be able to stop himself from hitting him across the face again.

Chloe turned around to look at him, a determination clear in her eyes. "It is, I just want to hear his motive with my own ears," she said firmly, grabbing a door handle. However, before she pulled it, she froze, as though she just realised something. "Wait, you were first who found us, weren't you?," she asked, looking past her shoulder.

Their eyes met and there was something weirdly intense in her gaze that made Lucifer slightly uncomfortable; he felt like she could peer into his very soul. He cleared his throat, before admitting: "Why, yes, obviously." Lucifer looked away, loathing a feeling of vulnerability that her scrutiny evoked in him. "I mean, Detective Dou—Daniel was more occupied with calling backup, I believe." He shrugged, not wanting to sound too overbearing.

Chloe hmphed, nodding to herself. Why she cared so much about it, he couldn't understand, but asking about it right now didn't seem convenient, since she had already opened the door, about to step inside, and he quickly followed her.

The man they had caught yesterday was sitting motionless behind a table, his eyes boring into a wall across from him. His stillness was a bit strange, though as soon as he noticed he had company, he straightened up, a curious look on his face.

Lucifer couldn't help himself but smile at the man viciously, pouring as much disdain in his voice as possible. "I believe we've already met, so let's skip pleasantries, shall we—?"

Chloe gave him a stern look, stopping him short. "We're doing it by the book," she said firmly, so that it was clear that arguing with her would be futile. "Detective Decker." She motioned at herself swiftly, sitting down at one of the chairs while Lucifer chose the other. "And this is my partner, Lucifer Morningstar." He smiled sourly to the man, pouring all of his resentment into that little gesture. "We'd like to ask you a few additional questions, Mr Andrews."

The man in question raised his eyebrows, apparently astounded by his own presence in the interrogation room. "Oh, I explained everything to your partner," he said coolly, stressing the last word meaningfully, his tone not betraying any sign of potential nervousness.

Lucifer snorted, recalling the man's pathetic speech and his naïve argumentation when he had tried to convince the Devil about righteousness of his actions. "That you did, but Detective here would like to hear it with her own ears, since thanks to you she was unconscious at the time," Lucifer pointed out bitterly.

Chloe took a deep breath and he knew that he was about to get reprimanded. "Lucifer. It was off record, and I'd like to have an official testimony," she clarified sternly, clearly not appreciating his overprotective remarks.

The man before them ignored their exchange and added incredulously: "You caught me in the act. I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

Chloe nodded, her attention back at the killer. "It is, but why?," she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

The man looked taken aback by such a line of questioning. "Why? Isn't it obvious?" When the Detective remained silent, looking at him expectantly, he decided to continue: "No one would punish those people for their betrayal, I just wanted to make things right," he admitted calmly, not even sparing a look at Lucifer who had just rolled his eyes.

"Even though you have literally no right to judge their actions," Lucifer interjected quickly, earning a disapproving glance from Chloe. He ignored it, however, raising from his chair to get closer to the man. "Tell me, what is it that you truly desire?" His smirk was exceptionally diabolical this time, while Lucifer studied the man's face closely.

It let the Devil spot a little twitch of the man's lips and contempt that seemed to fill his eyes. "To bring justice on Earth, since God clearly couldn't care less," the killer scoffed, giving Lucifer a challenging look.

The Devil would laugh if he didn't see out of the corner of his eye how the Detective slightly tensed and gazed at him, asking him silently to go off to the side to talk. He was beside her as soon as she stood up, ignoring the confounded man on the other side of the table.

Chloe cleared her throat and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Was that remark in any way—relevant?," she asked quietly, her voice somewhat strained.

Lucifer gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "No need to get paranoid, Detective," he assured lightly. "And I suppose not. I've noticed that you humans really fancy a notion of the higher power you can blame for everything that is wrong in the world, whether you actually believe in its existence or not," he added softly.

She nodded slowly, biting her lip. He could tell she was processing that information, but his worry only grew at her reaction. Nobody should be expected to fully grasp the concept of divinity so swiftly and there was a big possibility she wasn't coping with it as well as she appeared.

Lucifer leaned closer to her, trying to find her gaze. "Detective, if it's too difficult for you—"

Chloe shook her head, looking away from him. "No, it's okay, we should move on with—"

Before she could finish, the man they were interrogating chose to speak: "I'm not the only one with such a desire, I think you should keep that in mind."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, stepping to the table again, back in her detective mode. "Okay. And I doubt you'll elaborate on that."

His only answer was a shrug and nothing infuriated Lucifer more at the moment than the man's smug look.

"I believe our conversation is over," the Detective declared, walking towards the door and motioning at Lucifer to follow her.

They almost left, but the man spoke once again, his lips curling in a strange small smile: "Oh, and I almost forgot—belated, but warm welcome in the City of Angels, Your Hellish Highness."

Lucifer felt as if somebody had just poured cold water on him. That statement might have been completely meaningless, he reminded himself; there was something on that man's face, however, that aroused both his curiosity and his worry.

His feet seemed to move on its own accord, when Lucifer went after the Detective out of the interrogation room, the door closing shut behind their backs. "Okay, that was actually—perplexing," he mumbled, loud enough that Chloe could hear him.

She pursed her lips, not looking very convinced. "I don't know, he probably played along with your—'Devil schtick'. Some people find such theatrics rather amusing to mess with," she offered, apparently taking his earlier comment to heart, which actually soothed some of his nerves—he preferred the Detective frustratingly sceptical rather than confused.

"That I know, Detective—," he remarked patiently, "—but there is something odd about the man that I cannot quite place."

She cast him a quizzical glance, her eyes slightly squinting. "Are you going to look into that guy on your own?," she asked rhetorically.

Lucifer adjusted his cuffs, avoiding her gaze. "Perhaps," he admitted eventually.

"Then let me put together a report, and we can go," Chloe declared, going back to her desk. She must've sensed he stayed behind, because she looked over at him pointedly. "We're partners, remember?" Her stern expression made it clear that it wasn't a request. "And now that I know—sort of—what's the deal with you, there is no reason for you not to let me in," she added in a bit lower voice.

Lucifer sighed, knowing she was right. "That's true, but—"

"No 'buts'," she cut him off decisively, already at her desk.

She was about to sit down and get back to work, when a familiar male voice called her name. "Decker?" Pierce emerged from his office, a bright smile on his lips. "Can you come here for a second?," he asked and Lucifer couldn't refrain himself from shooting Cain a sour look.

"Sure," the Detective said, though her words lacked enthusiasm, and Lucifer almost missed her a bit nervous expression.

"It won't take long," Pierce assured, clearly directing his words more to Lucifer than Chloe.

The Devil just smiled bitterly. Of course, it wouldn't take long—they just had to talk about their yesterday's 'date'. Watching as the Detective disappeared inside Pierce's office, he shook his head, trying to redirect his thoughts to the man they had arrested. Unable to explain the unsettling feeling he had about him, he was certain about one thing—there was more to that Mr Andrews than what met the eye.


A/N: Because we all know how great a listener Lucifer can be sometimes.

I hope you liked this one.