"I don't see why we couldn't just take my car - or why I'm already wearing this dreadful clothing if we're simply going to meet the realtor."

Chloe looks over to her passenger seat where Lucifer is already back to complaining about his outfit. She has to confess it is a little strange to see him looking quite so wholesome, but he doesn't look anywhere near as bad as he seems to think he does. Not that she's going to cater to his bruised ego or anything, despite the numerous compliments she's received from the man about her own attire (mostly stemming from his lamenting his own ill fortune in comparison to her perceived good luck, so it barely counts).

"She has an office that's actually in the development, in one of the model homes or something, and then we'll go straight to the house afterward."

"So we should be in character for this, I take it? Alright then, Robert Jones, totally normal, completely boring. The dullest human being I could possibly imagine. I just need to picture him in my mind…" She watches as Lucifer's fingers fly to his temples and his face scrunches up in mock determination, "No, wait, I'm seeing Detective Douche." At this he turns to grin widely at her. "Actually, that seems about right."

Without even taking her eyes off the road she reaches over to smack at her partner, hand blindly connecting with soft cotton and hard muscle, but she can't help the small smile that makes its way onto her face at the joke. Lucifer mumbles out a quick "only kidding!" but he's still smiling as well.

"We don't need to be in character with Ms. Palmer, she's the one who's helping with the investigation so she already knows who we are. The whole thing is a little unorthodox, but if one of the victim's neighbors was involved or just knows something about what happened, this may be our best shot."

"I'm certainly not one to complain about being a little unorthodox." He leers, while Chloe once again rolls her eyes.

"No, you just complain about having to wear a cotton shirt."

"But silk feels so much better against the skin. It's just so sensual. You should really try it, Detective. You'll never wish to go back."

Chloe pointedly watches the road in front of her, ignoring the way Lucifer has shifted towards her as much as the seatbelt will comfortably allow, or the way he practically purrs that last bit, and particularly the many ways she could interpret that statement. Thankfully he gives up on getting a response from her (or perhaps he's already gotten the response he wanted?), and shifts back into his own space, smiling to himself as he returns to reading over the particulars of the case. They fall into a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip, which, unfortunately, gives Chloe more time to think.

It's just now starting to really sink in that she's going to be living with Lucifer. Originally she had only thought of the inconvenience, of being away from her daughter and her own home, and the annoyance of living with the most infuriating man she had ever known (her ex-husband included). She hadn't really considered what it would be like staying in close quarters with the man, or how she was supposed to deal with his constant flirting and innuendos with nowhere to retreat. At least they would have separate bedrooms, she didn't even want to think about…

And of course now she's thinking about it. Sharing a bedroom, a bed, with Lucifer. She had borrowed his bed once, on a night that was best left unremembered by all parties involved, but he had not been in it at the time. She unwittingly imagines waking up beside him in the morning, seeing him rumpled with sleep and so vulnerable. Would she really be able to resist the temptation? Or would she finally give in to what she knew they both wanted?

Only it wasn't what she wanted, not really. She didn't want one night (or one morning) of mindless passion, followed by weeks of awkwardness. It was pretty much guaranteed to ruin their partnership - which, despite her complaining, was something she was beginning to really rely on. She honestly liked the weird relationship they had built. It was, rather tragically, one of the most stable relationships in her life right now, and she wasn't willing to risk that for a fling. Even a very, very hot one. She sneaks a peek over at the man in question, praying that he can't somehow read her mind, before returning to her thoughts. However much Lucifer insisted that he might feel something more for her, she knew the guy's m.o. Why would he change a lifetime of habits just for her?

Before her thoughts can grow too maudlin, however, she catches sight of the sign for The Palisades, turning her car towards the elaborate wrought iron gates. She spots the little call box off to the right, but before she even roll down her window to dial in the number, the gates are already opening for them.

"Well that's convenient." Lucifer chirps in.

"Kind of eerie if you ask me." She mumbles back, driving through the opened gates.

"Well if you want eerie this is certainly the place for it." It's obvious what he referring to. The orderliness of the suburbs always seems kind of strange after the chaos of the city proper, but this neighborhood takes it way too far. In front of them is a neat little row of houses, all with perfectly manicured lawns, almost identical to one another aside from the varied shades of tasteful pastels that distinguish them. Small children play happily outside in the mid-afternoon sunlight, watched over by mothers in outfits not to dissimilar to Chloe's own, though likely costing a great deal more. Their arrival is not missed by the watchful women.

"I feel a bit like we've just entered Stepford." She grouses to no one in particular.

"I'm fairly certain whoever came up with the idea for suburban living had to have spent a considerable amount of time in Purgatory. It's uncanny how alike they are, really." Lucifer's face is completely serious as he says this, and she can't help but let out a little laugh. He's certainly not wrong.

As they continue driving she carefully counts the house numbers, searching for #37, nearly reaching the end of the current development. A surprisingly dense forest rises up just beyond the construction zone, a brief glimpse of the natural world amidst the unnaturalness of the planned community.

Angela Palmer is waiting outside for them as they pull into the driveway, a just-shy-of-middle-age blonde woman wearing an immaculate skirt suit and a not entirely patient expression. She shuffles them inside a well-appointed foyer before she begins speaking to them.

"I apologize for the hurry, I have some investors coming into the neighborhood shortly and I'd like them to see that we've managed to sell the house."

Chloe tries to parse out what was just said. "Ms. Palmer, I'm a little confused here. You are aware we're not actually buying the house, right?"

"Of course you're not! But certainly your boss informed you of the conditions for staying here? A quiet investigation, preferably without using the m-word, no upsetting any of our residents here, and in turn I can show my investors that these properties are still in demand." So apparently Ms. Palmer isn't just the realtor, then.

"I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to live here." Lucifer is laying on the charm, but the sarcasm is far too obvious.

"This sort of development appeals to a very selective clientele. Most of the city's well-to-do young professionals prefer beach front property, tacky mansions, and fences to keep the rest of the world out." She says with obvious disdain for all of those things, "Families at The Palisades want community. And that is what I can offer them."

"I thought 'palisade' actually means fence?" Chloe can't help but remark.

"Well, yes, it is a gated community, of course. The safety of our residents is certainly our first priority." Ms. Palmer rushes to respond.

"And having a young woman murdered within those gates would be very bad for business?" Chloe sends a sharp look towards Lucifer at the comment.

The other woman looks more than a little fed up at this point, "There's no evidence she was murdered here! It could have happened anywhere!" She collects herself just as quickly. "I mean we're all very sorry about what happened to that poor woman. Just…please tie this up as quietly as you can. And quickly. I can only lend you this house for a week, and then I really need to start showing it again to actual clients."

"I assure you we will be out of your way as soon as possible. I take it we will be staying in this house for the time being?"

The realtor-slash-developer looks at her as though she can't believe that Chloe is even a real detective. "This house is my office. You will be staying at Ms. Patel's former residence, #24. She is the reason you are even here, correct?"

Chloe tries to wrap her mind around this new detail. "We were told the house was furnished, it's not…" She can't think of any polite way to ask if she was going to be expected to sleep in a murder victim's bed.

"Of course not, don't be gruesome. Her family took possession of all her belongings after Ms. Patel failed to make her mortgage payments twice in succession. The current furnishings belong to my company, we stage all our houses so that prospective buyers can fully visualize the potential of each home."

Chloe is somewhat relieved by the news that the furniture is new, even if the rest of the house is still a possible crime scene. Ms. Palmer, clearly deciding that the time for inane questions is over, digs through her purse to pull out a set of keys and large envelope.

"Here are the keys to the house and front gate, plus a list of all the security codes and emergency numbers you might need, and a schedule of all the community events going on this week." Chloe reaches for the envelope as Lucifer swiftly pockets the keys.

"Do you have any more questions for me?" She asks while very obviously checking her watch.

"Just one more for now - you just handed us a key to the gate, but it opened automatically when we first arrived."

Another disbelieving stare, as if she couldn't possibly be this stupid. "We do have security cameras, Ms. Decker, and I was anticipating your arrival so I let you in myself. Surely you've viewed the security footage as part of this investigation?"

Lucifer grins at her obvious embarrassment. Looking back, the answer was so obvious. They had even discussed those tapes shortly before coming here. No guests had been through the gates surrounding the victim's disappearance, which has led them to suspect one of the other residents.

After a hurried goodbye, the two were shuffled back out the door to make the very short drive to their temporary new home, where a moving van was now parked at the curb.

"To add to the verisimilitude?" Lucifer suggested teasingly. The only things they brought with them were two small suitcases of clothes and necessities, and Chloe's case files and laptop. It's not like they were really moving in.

She hopped out of the car and went to gather her bags from the trunk, but Lucifer was suddenly scooping her up before she even know what had happened.

"What the hell, Lucifer? Put me down!" He had one arm around her back, the other behind her knees as he made long strides towards the front door.

"I don't think I will. I believe it's traditional to carry one's bride over the threshold." She was forced to put her arms around his neck or risk behind dropped as he fiddled with getting the keys in the front door. This close, every inhale was filled with the scent of him - something clean and smokey and masculine. She shakes her head to clear out these thoughts.

"I'm pretty sure that's just for newlyweds, or you know, people who are actually married!" Chloe glares up at Lucifer with no real heat in her gaze as he grins broadly down at her, both of them caught in a strange staring contest as they make it through the doorway.

A sudden voice startles them both out of their reverie, "Aw man, where's my camera when I need it?"

Ella is smirking down at them from the top of the stairs, while several other members of the CSI team peek out of the rooms they're working in to see what's going on. Chloe immediately jumps out of Lucifer's arms, landing with far less grace than she'd hoped for. At least this explains the moving van outside.

"They cleaned the place out pretty well, but we're hoping we might still find some evidence they missed. Not that we think she was murdered in here or anything, I mean can you imagine?" Ella babbles as she concludes her investigation of the stairway. "Don't worry, we'll be out of here soon enough, there's only a few more rooms we haven't looked at yet and they already did a pretty thorough search a couple months ago. Then you can have the house all to yourselves." She smiles down at them both, like this is all some sort of Parent Trap-esque scheme to get them to hook up. Chloe wouldn't entirely put it past the other woman, aside from the part where someone actually had to be murdered for this scenario to occur.

"Take as long as you need," Chloe's in no rush to be alone with her partner just yet, "just let me know when it's safe to stash my things."

"Oh, the master bedroom is already cleared, it's one of the first places we checked, so you should be set." She points to the door directly behind her.

"And the guest bedroom?" She says a little more loudly than she needs to, hoping to remind everyone there that Lucifer is NOT sleeping in the same room.

"Right! Yes! I mean no, it's not done yet."

"Darling, you weren't serious about making me sleep in some dreary little guest room, were you? What if there's no heat in this house? We could very well freeze to death in our sleep, and all because you were unwilling to share a little body heat with your loving husband." Ella has ceased all pretense of doing forensics work in order to witness the exchange.

"Lucifer, we live in Southern California, hell will freeze over before that happens." With that she quickly escapes back outside to grab her things, savoring the chance to finally have the last word.

Far sooner than she would have liked, the CSI team has loaded their equipment and samples back into the fake moving van. She and Lucifer have mostly been relegated to the master bedroom in order to keep out of their way. This was awkward enough before, but now there's no reason for him to be here and yet he's still casually occupying the left side of her bed like he belongs there, texting away on his phone while she goes over her case files for the hundredth time. There's no cable here, or wifi, so they're not left with much else to occupy themselves. Chloe carefully avoids thinking about any other ways they might occupy their time.

"Well this is boring," Lucifer announces, "let's go look at some other rooms at least."

Chloe is secretly thankful for something else to do that's not rereading her files or getting lost in her own very inappropriate thoughts. But it turns out investigating the house isn't particularly exciting. Being a model home means that all the rooms and perfectly nice, and completely devoid of personality. There's a number of books in the study, but they seem to have been chosen more for their aesthetic than for their contents. The artwork on the walls is similarly all for show, and the pieces are as inoffensive as they are unimaginative. The only items of potential interest are the pool table in the game room, and the actual pool in the backyard.

There is also the issue of the totally empty kitchen. Chloe supposes they can simply order takeout for dinner, but she feels like she needs to do something. Preferably something where they can leave the house for a bit. It's a little late in the evening to start introducing themselves to the neighbors, which leaves the most obvious option.

"So how do you feel about grocery shopping?".

It's easy to forget how far away everything is outside the city. It's nearly a twenty minute drive just to get to the grocery store. It might not actually take that much more time than finding a grocery store in the city, but the lack of anything interesting along the drive makes it feel so much longer.

Lucifer looks a little horrified the second they step inside the supermarket. It's a little…sterile, to be sure. And a certainly a bit more sprawling than you'd normally find in the city, but it's not that strange.

"Detective, how could anyone hope to find anything in this monstrosity? I'm truly concerned we might just find an angry minotaur at the center of this labyrinth."

"Please tell me you've seen a grocery store before." She teases her worried partner.

"Of course I've seen a grocery store, but this is not a grocery store. This is…a library of gluttony. And not even the fun kind."

Chloe sometimes wonders if she could actually sprain her eyes from rolling them so often. "Come on you big baby, we just need a couple things to get us through the week. We'll make sure to avoid any minotaurs along the way."

But for all Lucifer's dismay at the sprawling market, he certainly knows his way around good food. In fact, his ability to pick out the best produce is nearly pornographic. Chloe spends a little longer than she'd like to admit watching him expertly test the firmness of each avocado, long fingers curling around the fruit and gently pressing against the flesh. But she draws the line at watching him fondle the cantelope, and drags him over to the cereal aisle. Her partner seems a little perplexed by the variety at first, but then he immediately goes for whatever is the most colorful.

"Here we are, these so-called 'Froot Loops' promise 'natural fruit flavors'." She honestly can't tell if he's joking at this point.

"You're almost as bad as Trixie."

"Coming from you, I shall take that as the highest compliment."

Chloe's not quite sure how to respond to that, so she settles for snatching the box from Lucifer and placing it back on the shelf. But as she's trying to decide whether to go for the cereal with the highest fiber content, or with the most vitamins and minerals, she suddenly wonders why. She's not shopping for a growing kid right now, and a little sugar never hurt anyone. They're practically on vacation right now, or at least on some kind of break with reality, however temporary. The rules of her well-ordered life no longer apply here, and she starts to wonder exactly how far that extends. Before she's even fully aware of it Chloe finds herself dropping a box of Coco Puffs into the cart, ignoring the smile on Lucifer's face that seems to imply he completely followed her train of though.

The rest of their shopping excursion is generally uneventful, other than a brief standoff in the wine section ("We're on the department's tab, why not have a little fun?" "They do actually check the receipts I turn it, and I'm not going to be the one to try and explain a $432 bottle of wine to them.") which was eventually resolved with Lucifer offering to buy a more reasonably priced wine on his own dime. Overall it's actually kind of nice in a way she hadn't expected. She loves going to the store with Trixie, but it's a totally different experience shopping with another grown up (even if he doesn't always act like one). Lucifer honestly enjoys food without being too much of a snob about it, and she finds herself constantly revising her shopping list to include the things he enjoys. Plus the way he was describing a smoked gouda grilled cheese with spicy apple chutney had her practically salivating.

Mostly it's just enjoyable getting to spend some time together when there's no immediate crisis. Even if it's just doing something as mundane as grocery shopping. Before today she never really pictured Lucifer doing anything so…domestic. She sort of always imagined he had food delivered to him, or prepared by a personal chef, and that he probably paid someone else to clean and sent his laundry out - though the latter might still prove to be true, considering his predilection for silk and other dry clean only fabrics. The sort of things you'd never find in the wardrobe of a single mother. So maybe he wasn't exactly big on laundry, but he did seem accustomed to grocery shopping and cooking for himself, and judging by his general tidiness, perhaps he wasn't too dependent on professional cleaners for maintaining his immaculate apartment.

Chloe catches herself in the middle of mentally divvying up the household chores between them on the drive home, swiftly reminding herself that the situation was only temporary. A week at most, and probably less considering their unusual success rate. There was no point planning for a future that would never be.

Lucifer seemed to notice the sudden change in Chloe's mood, but for once he didn't remark on it.

When they arrive back at the house, Chloe goes to put up the groceries while Lucifer immediately starts in on dinner. It turns out that the smoked gouda grilled cheese is even better than described, and it's all Chloe can do to keep from moaning at the first bite of smoky, cheesy goodness with just the perfect amount of kick from the chutney. Lucifer looks pretty pleased at her obvious enjoyment all the same. And even though this whole thing has an expiration date, she thinks it might not be so crazy mentally assigning him the job of cooking since he seems to enjoy it so much, And she definitely enjoys him enjoying it. There's a lot of mutual enjoyment going on. Chloe nearly chokes on her sandwich when that thought sneaks in, and tries valiantly not to think of any other "mutually enjoyable" scenarios.

She's suddenly very thankful for Lucifer's gift of a nice bottle of wine, as she rushes to gulp down the remains of her first glass. Lucifer automatically reaches to pour her another, which she quietly resolves to savor this time. Their empty plates are finally pushes aside, with promises from Chloe to take care of them later, but neither moves from away from where they're seated side by side at the kitchen counter. They had both agreed that the formal dining room was far too stuffy for grilled cheese. Somehow this eventually led them around to discussing their ideal homes. Chloe admits she might like something a little further out, not quite the suburbs, but perhaps something overlooking the city rather than right in the middle of it.

"So you're telling me you want to live up in the Hollywood Hills in one of those garish mansions with all the celebrity neighbors your heart desires?"

"No, definitely no celebrity neighbors," Chloe jumps to refute the idea, "that whole thing hasn't really appealed to me since…"

"Hot Tub High School?" He leers, glancing swiftly but pointedly down at her chest.

"Yes, exactly, thank you for bringing that up again. As usual. But no, being around celebrities stopped appealing to me long before my brief but far too memorable acting career." With this she levels a hard glare at Lucifer's continued grinning. "Word of advice, never meet your heroes."

"Oh now there's a story there!"

"Not really, I just…let's just say I finally got to meet one of the Coreys, and he was kind of dick."

"Haim or Feldman?"

"It doesn't really matter. But no, no celebrity neighbors. No garish mansion. Something small, cozy. It's just me and Trixie, after all. We don't take up a lot of space." And a big house is just a reminder of all you don't have to fill it with.

"But it won't always be?" He questioned.

"Won't always be what?"

"Just the two of you. I mean you're only, what? Thirty…" Chloe gives him a challenging look, just daring him to guess her age. Lucifer, for once, seems to understand that discretion is the better part of valor "Early thirties. You look wonderful, love. The point is, it's a little soon to be this committed to eternal spinsterhood."

"I don't think you can really be a spinster if you've been married before. And anyway, it's not like there's a lot of great prospects waiting for me. Right now the only men I come into contact with are either cops or criminals." Apparently two glasses of wine and she's already confessing her dating woes to him.

"And which of those am I, Detective?" The tone is teasing, but she can tell he's honestly a bit curious what she thinks of him. She wishes she knew herself.

"I wish I was entirely sure. Though you have been staying on the right side of the law lately, I'm not completely sure you fit in the cop category either."

"Once again, I think I'll take that as a compliment." His smile is completely genuine.

"Besides, it doesn't matter. It's not like you'd want to live off in a little mountain cabin with me and Trixie."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Detective. High above the ground, lots of sunlight, a nice view - seems exactly like what I'm looking for." And it was true, Lucifer had earlier insisted on all of these things for his ideal living space, as kind of an antithesis of his previous home, or "Hell" as he kept insisting. "I suppose I could even tolerate your little progeny as well, with so much else to recommend the place." And the way he's looking at her makes it very clear that she is what's appealing in this scenario.

Suddenly the whole conversation takes on a whole new weight, and Chloe begins to feel a little lightheaded. She thinks that now may not be the best time for this discussion.

"I think it's probably time to go to bed…"

Lucifer's grin grows exponentially, "why, Detective, I thought you'd never ask!"

"…to our separate beds. To sleep." It's as much directed at him as a reminder to herself, "we need to start actually talking the residents tomorrow, see if anyone knows anything."

"Very well, darling, but I'll just be right across the hall if you need anything. And I do mean anything."

"Yeah, thanks." The response sounds sharp, even to her own ears. She softens her tone. "And really, thank you again for dinner. And for going along with this whole charade."

"You're very welcome, Detective."

Chloe heads up the stairs first, feeling even more lightheaded now that before. She wants nothing more than to splash some cold water on her face and shock her system back into proper order.

When she reaches her room, her bed is still a mess of case files. Well, the right side is, Lucifer's… the left side is still perfectly tidy. She tosses up her suitcase on the cleared space, riffling through for something to sleep in, wishing they would have just let her bring some of her own clothing. No one's going to see her in her pajamas, aside from maybe Lucifer. But there has to be something in this bag appropriate for bed.

Ella. Chloe thinks to herself that this must be Lopez's doing, or someone's idea of a practical joke. Buried among all the floral sundresses and demure cardigans is a lacy chemise, apparently intended for her to sleep in. Unlike the rest of her pastel wardrobe, the chemise is a rich burgundy satin with a delicate lace trim. This is…completely inappropriate. And absolutely not what she is going to sleep in.

She's more than a little annoyed when she charges across the hall, chemise still crumpled in her hands. Lucifer opens at the first knock.

"Well, well, changed your mind about having a sleepover already?" He beams, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Not a chance. I need pajamas," Chloe waves the nightgown in front of his face, "this is not pajamas."

Lucifer looks back from the deep red fabric being thrust into his eye line, down to the woman standing irate in front of him. Chloe realizes immediately that he's imagining her in the chemise right now and quickly brings her hand back down.

"Well I haven't had a chance to look through my suitcase yet - been avoiding it, really - but I'm sure we could find something to suit your needs. I wouldn't wish you to be uncomfortable, my dear."

Chloe lets the pet name slide because he's actually opening his suitcase to do as asked. After a few moments he pulls out a nicely folded set of traditional blue striped pajamas with a flourish.

"Here you are, Detective, though they might be a little long on you…" He's standing at his full height again, and the difference between them has never felt quite so obvious as it does not.

"Thanks, Lucifer." She offers up honestly, taking the offered set. "But wait, what are you doing to sleep in?"

"Oh I've always preferred to sleep in the nude."

Chloe's eyes go wide, and Lucifer of course can't miss her response, smiling not-at-all-innocently back at her expression.

"No, that's…you should…here," she tries to hand the pajama set back. She can figure something else out - she's not at all mentally prepared to deal with a naked Lucifer sleeping right across the hall.

"Perhaps a compromise might be in order?" Lucifer offers, taking back only the pajama pants, leaving her with the oversize top.

"Ok, yeah, that works." Chloe relaxes a little, feeling her momentary panic subsiding.

"Though I will expect something in return for my sacrifice, of course."

Chloe quirks an eyebrow at him. "These pajamas aren't even your's."

"Oh no, I would gladly give them over to you. I mean for subjecting myself to this cotton prison all night." He looks with disdain and the pajama pants still in his hand.

"I'll be sure to put in a word to the Mayor to get you a Medal of Valor, then."

"I was thinking something a little more mutually rewarding." Chloe is now very aware of just how close Lucifer stands to her, casually invading her space like he belongs there. She steps back out of the doorway, clutching the pajama top her her chest.

"Goodnight, Lucifer." She says with as much finality as she can muster, turning back towards her own room.

"Goodnight, Detective. And sweet dreams."

Chloe refuses to look back, swiftly shutting herself into her room. It's going to be a long night.