Chloe walked into Lucifer's penthouse, still amazed by the opulence that surrounded her. Aged liquors were displayed casually as décor on the sleek glass shelves behind Lucifer's private bar. Where should have been a wall was a nothing but glass which allowed a view a panoramic view of urban Los Angeles. Chloe walked into the penthouse loft, making her way through the dimly lit area. "Lucifer, are you up here?"
"Be out in a jiffy. Just getting ready," he called to her from where she assumed was his bedroom.
"Okay. Did you do what I told you to do and call Carver about the Player's Club?"
"Make yourself a drink, Detective."
"No," she replied sternly. It was time to nip her favorite pervert's bloom in the bud before it blossomed into full-blown obsession. "No. No more drinks. No more blurred lines. No more surprise omelets on Sunday mornings at my house or trying to hook up with me. Look, this relationship remains professional." Chloe talked as she turned around, trying to discern Lucifer's exact location.
She thought she heard the soft footfalls against the hardwood floor. Turning in the direction of the sound, she continued her lecture, "I'm a police officer, and you-"she gasped mid sentence when nothing stood between her and a very toned, masculine, naked Lucifer.
Chloe couldn't help herself as she took in the masculine perfection standing before her akimbo. No hair to speak of anywhere on his body, every contour perfectly shadowed, revealing sleek lines of musculature. Wide shoulders and chest tapered to a slim waist, giving Chloe a full frontal view of Lucifer's God-given given gift nestled prominently in black curls. She blinked once. Twice. Somehow, the words of a dream flitted through her mind.
His light and beauty filled Heaven that no other angel can duplicate.. .
Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Chloe felt the spell wash away as quickly as it had flowed over her. Mortification replaced fascination from a source she couldn't name when she gasped and the nervous laugh followed. escaped her. She turned away to keep from staring more at the man nude in front of her. "-aren't wearing any clothes."
"Oh, speaking of my surprise visit yesterday, I decided turnabout's fair play. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction," he chuckled at her flushed cheeks and shocked reaction.
Chloe searched for words to answer. "What the hell are you thinking? Put on some clothes."
"Giving you wish fulfillment and I'm doing rather well, wouldn't you say? Number three on the C.K.C. list," Lucifer motioned down to the package he'd been God-given. "Take risks."
Keeping her back too him, she leaned for the black silk robe lying over the back of the leather sofa. She cleared her throat, willing away the awkwardness of the moment, but longing for just one more peak. "Okay, you've convinced that you've lost your mind. Put this on now!"
"Not a problem, but seriously, Darling, are you blind? The berries are ripe and ready for harvest," Lucifer said, swirling the black robe around his waste and turning slowly for to view every angle. "I mean, look at me. Now, you can't argue with that, can you?"
As he slowly pirouetted for her benefit, her eyes caught two long crescent-shaped cars marring the flawless skin on his back. He eyes widened as she wondered who had mutilated in such a way. "Lucifer, What happened to your back? My God-
"Oh, oh, that. Well, I do suppose it was His fault, Detective," Lucifer gave her another charming grin.
"Who did this to you? Whose fault?"
"Oh, well," Lucifer glanced upward. "My father, of course."
"Your father did this to you?" Chloe heard the hoarseness in her own voice.
"No, no, no." Lucifer quickly clarified. "That's where I cut my wings off."
"What?" Chloe blinked, still trying to move past the shock those angry scars branding him. "Who did this to you?"
"Maze did. It's not as though I can walk down the street without drawing unnecessary attention with them blasted things sprouting out my back."
"No, Lucifer," Chloe had trouble finding the right words as her heart broke, knowing someone had willfully done something so cruel to him. "How could you let someone hurt you this way?"
She gently touched his arm, guiding Lucifer to turn around so she could more close examine the scars. Her fingers brushed against the mark where his left wing had once been, her light touch sending a thousand jolts of energy through his entire body. Lucifer had long forgotten how sensitive was the area between his shoulder blades and to have Chloe touch him there was unbearable bliss. While he wanted her touch, he didn't want her pity or compassion. His pride refused to allow him to enjoy her first explorations of him. He wanted her to see him as fulfillment of her desire and as a lover, not as a victim or someone who warranted her sympathy. She stripped away all of his well-constructed shields and touched him deeply where no being had ever been allowed and it frightened Lucifer.
When she touched him, it reminded how much he missed being loved and accepted just as he was. His eyes glistened with more emotion that Chloe had seen and with preternatural speed, he grabbed her wrist. His voice rasped "Don't. . .please."
She wanted to give him comfort and he wanted to deny that he felt alone. "I should get dressed."
As Lucifer dashed into his bedroom to dress, Chloe looked at her hand. She had felt the strong energy that traveled from his skin into her hand when she had touched him. For a moment, as they touched, she had a split second recollection of Josh speaking to her about Lucifer. "Follow your heart and love Lucifer when no one else will," the voice possessed an ethereal quality that reminded Chloe of being in a canyon with her voice echoing off the steep walls. "Be good to each other."
Lucifer felt a foreign emotion flood his being and did his best to push it aside. Had the Detective gone mad? Why had she rejected him without a second thought? No mere mortal had the ability to ignore the carnality that he ignited within; not one. Yet, Chloe Decker spurned him when he'd presented himself without dressing or finery; only his perfect male presence: the illusion that masked scalded red skin and exposed muscle.
He stopped dead while buttoning his shirt.
She had seen his scars where his wings once had been: sickening reminders that he wasn't good enough for Dear ol' Dad to forgive. Lucifer bitterly wondered how a his valid question about free-will had earned him such a fat. Why did angels have it if they weren't allowed to use it and why must everything be preordained?
Dad cast him out to the pits of Hell, yet gave the precarious gift of free agency to Humanity. He'd allow angels to have it, but when used, He punished them for it. He gave it to lesser beings, no matter how charming, and He forgave them. Why?! Daddy Dearest cast him to the celestial curb and cursed him to be burned by Hellfire which marred Lucifer for all eternity.
Had Chloe seen his true self? Had his scars sickened her? If she were immune to his charms, could she see him as he truly was? Scorched. Burned. Imperfect. Monstrous.
His fingers trembled as he finished the last button. Even it took him the rest of eternity, Lucifer vowed to know what made Chloe Decker different from other humans and why she didn't respond to his charms. Somewhere within Lucifer, he knew he didn't want Chloe to see his flaw. He wanted to be a hero in her eyes, if only hers.
Even on a stakeout in the middle of a weeknight, Lucifer never allowed Chloe a dull moment. Sitting in her car in the dark with lights off, she found their conversation witty and engaging, quickly passing away the minutes into hours as they discussed everything from hopes, dreams and religion.
"Something is off-kilter, Lucifer."
"Well, of course, it doesn't. It's a kidnapping, Darling," Lucifer's dismissive air seemed less pompous to Chloe when he tossed a handful of snack into his mouth. He held the half-empty bag toward the Detective in polite offering. "Cool ranch puff?"
"They're all yours," Chloe crinkled her nose, overwhelmed by the fake food and the preservatives scent emanating from the back.
"Are you sure? They're quite yummy, try one." Lucifer wiggled the bag under her nose.
"If you are the Devil, then you could've tempted me far better with an apple," she smiled. "Or a fig."
"Fig?" Twin dark brows arched up at that comment.
"You bet," Chloe said, watching the warehouse. "Best in the universe."
Lucifer blinked a few times at her response before regaining his composure. "Hmm, Not surprising. You've no fun in you at all, Detective. But, it's funny, isn't it? You'd think the former Lord Of Hell would be more of a Siracha and buffalo type, but I must say, I love these bad boys."
"Okay, let's say you really are the Devil, for the sake of argument," Chloe started, staring at Lucifer's reflection via the rear view mirror. She felt silly asking the questions, but now he was invading her dreams and it was a distraction she didn't like.
"Oh, and I'm my own advocate? Oh, you're just full of surprises!"
"All-powerful, immortal, blah, blah, blah," Chloe continued, waving her hand in a motion that signaled 'whatever.' So, if God is your father, is Jesus, your Uncle?"
"Oh, Detective? Really?" Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Could you've asked anything more elementary?"
"Humor me," she said without a smile.
"Well, Father is actually more my 'creator' and all of my siblings and I are 'sons of God, daughters of God'. Then, you have the entire three distinct persons, identical in substance and united in purpose. So, actually, if you must know, Jesus is as much my Creator as He is brother and my father. I wasn't there, you know, when He decided to take his vacation and become the "only Begotten Son.' Back in the primordial day, Darling, we were all just one big happy family before it became complicated."
"Okay," Chloe drawled, trying to comprehend everything she'd ever learned in Sunday School and comparing it to what Lucifer shared. "You're immortal, so you can't be killed."
"No, not even a scratch," he said, popping another cool ranch puff in his mouth.
"Does that mean you don't feel pain at all? How does that work?"
"Hmm. I like this line of questioning. Does this mean you're finally coming around?" he flashed her a smile that he hoped would make grin.
"No. This is just for the sake of argument, remember? Just answer the question." Chloe's impatience was tangible enough to smell and touch.
He gave a wry chuckle, "Well, I I do feel something, but it's not pain so much as, uh, a pressure, a nuisance, really."
"I'll roll with it. So, what does it feel like if you get shot?" Chloe looked forward, thinking she saw a shadow along the perimeter of the warehouse.
Lucifer thumped her soundly on her upper arm.
"Ow."
"Well, you asked."
"But that's it? Like, a bullet just bounces off you? So, you're Superman?"
"Well, there's no wound or blood, if that's what you mean. Can verify with something sharp if you like."
"No, it's not necessary. It's tempting though," Chloe cast him a sideways glance with a hint of a smirk in her eyes.
"So, Detective, does this mean that you believe me? I'm afraid I can't offer anything obvious like horns as evidence."
"No pitchfork?" she mused.
"No, afraid not. That's the stuff of movies and TV."
"Mm-hmm," Chloe didn't know how to answer.
"They always get it wrong," Lucifer said.
"Well, look, I-I have to admit, I've seen some things I can't explain, but I don't believe in all that Bible stuff,"
"So you're an atheist. How ironic."
"No, not exactly. I do believe there's good and evil and right and wrong, but the whole fiery damnation thing? Not so much."
"Does it frighten you?" Lucifer asked for the first time, truly concerned.
"No, I mean, how could I be frightened by something that I doesn't exist?"
"Do I scare you?" Lucifer asked, almost fearing her answer. He liked having the Detective around and the last thing he wanted was her to experience around him was fear. He rather liked the discerning skeptic in the driver's seat.
"No," Chloe answered, a sweetness in her voice that made Lucifer's heart leap into his chest, but he didn't know why.
Lucifer loomed over the young woman, crumpled and sobbing, while she pleaded for her life. "Please don't hurt me.
"Why does everyone say that before they're punished?" Lucifer replied smoothly, feeling the inner fires flare within. Punishing evil always gave him such delight and satisfaction.
"Please, I'm sorry!"
"Lucifer, stop!" Chloe walked into view with her 380 aimed and Lindsay while both eyes were on Lucifer.
"Detective, you should leave," he warned her with a deceptive gentleness usually used by sociopaths and serial killers.
In the reflection of the stainless steel refrigerator, Chloe saw a flash of something of terrifying and inhuman: flaming, pitiless eyes framed by exposed bone, melted skin and charred muscle. Every human instinct caused her muscles to tense, tightening her grip around her firearm. The reflection in the mirror prompted her fear into action, egging her to riddle Lucifer with bullets. She fought the urge to scream and run away in terror. Instead, she chose to slowly lower her 380. Her eyes glanced between the reflection and him, trying to make sense of the monster she'd seen where Lucifer's reflection should have been.
Chloe swallowed hard to contain the fear that swelled within her. "What are you? What the hell are you?"
"Luv, I've been trying to tell you for some time, I'm the Devil," he motioned to the woman whimpering by the refrigerator, the man on the ground clasping his leg in pain and the third one clasping his neck because he had trouble breathing.
Chloe shook her in wild denial, eyes wide from the vision still haunting her. "It can't be. The Devil doesn't exist."
"I assure you, Detective, I do. I mean, you've said yourself, there are things you can't explain." Lucifer's voice came at Chloe with greater speed and intensity, a mental battering ram threatening to push her beyond the rational and the explainable. His provocation left her with no time to think or breath as it increased. "C'mon, Detective, what more proof do you need? You have the bloody pistol in your hand. Shoot me!"
"You don't know what you're asking-"
"Yes, I do and yes you can," Lucifer gave her a cheerful grin. "Go on, now. Give the trigger a good squeeze and we're spot on. Now, damn it, Chloe, aim the gun at me and just shoot me! You know you want to. Do it. Once you do, you'll finally realize-"
The sound of gunfire echoed off the concrete walls as an orange flush exploded from the muzzle. The smell of gun smoke wafted in the air as the bullet found its mark in Lucifer's right leg near the knee.
Chloe stared at Lucifer wide-eyed, mortified by what she had just done. She gasped at her actions and reality hit her when the casing clattered on the warehouse floor. Her jaw fell slack, staring at her partner in shock as her gaze darted to the casing on the floor, his knee and then finally, his eyes.
"Good for you! See? No pain, whatsoever. I can't believe... Gah. Actually, no, it's hurting a little bit. I'm bleeding."
""Of course you're bleeding," Chloe regained her composure, dashing to his side and helped him to the floor. "What was I thinking?"
"Detective, I've never bled. What's happening to me?" Lucifer's confusion mingled with her own chaotic mindset and she had no answer to his question.
Later that night, Chloe lie alone in bed with two books about near-death experiences. Impatiently, she tapped her pen against the pad, reviewing everything that had happened to her since meeting Lucifer: being clinically dead for eight minutes as paramedics tried to revive her, the last thing she remembered before her death was seeing Lucifer splattered with her blood. She didn't know what to make of the strange dreams she had of the Silver City with its towering, gleaming spires and crystalline waters. How could she explain that in her dreams she talked with God? He told her to call her Joshua and gave her a craving for figs. She tried rationalizing all of it, but there was nothing that could wash away what she had seen of Lucifer's reflections
The pain and suffering captured in that reflection made numb and unable to move. Since her near-death experience, she'd been in several dangerous situations and confrontations with suspects and always came out unharmed against countless odds. She felt stronger, faster and more aware of things around that she had before being shot. Her hearing was sharper and her stamina had increased measurably since she had left the hospital. Her marksmanship had improved to one-hundred percent on the firing range. She never missed her mark and her instincts seemed to possess an almost inhuman quality.
Trixie has spotted Lucifer's blood on Chloe's shirt when she had arrived home earlier that evening. In the warehouse, while advancing toward Lindsay and the crime scene, she had scratched herself on a nail jutting out from a stray pallet at waist height. While the scratch hadn't broken the skin enough to make it bleed, it had left behind a three-inch welt that was raw and sore. Chloe lifted up her nightshirt in the same spot where Lucifer's blood had smeared, seeing it was in the same place where she'd scratched herself on the rusty nail. There was only one thing Chloe couldn't explain: the scratch was healed and the welt was gone. No broken skin. In it's place was only unblemished skin. She knew that some of the blood must have found its way into the scratch by accident and Chloe made a mental note to ask Lucifer the next day the last time he'd been tested for STDs.
She knew something was afoot that changed her and changed Lucifer; things she couldn't explain or excuse away with logic or rational. Chloe knew she had to find out the truth.
To be continued. . .
Notes: This is a work in a state of continual progress until completion. While I have no Beta, I am very good friends with my spellchecker. When I post these things in the dead of night, it's usually the next day when I see the extra space, an annoying typo or incorrect punctuation. I believe that writing is an ongoing learning process and I want something you'll enjoy reading without being distracted by sloppy editing or correctable errors. Read fiercely and well!