There are red silk sheets on the master bed. Seriously?

"I think this counts as a mortal sin against good taste. And I'm fairly certain that your little UV light trick will have this bed lit up like a bloody Jackson Pollock, as if it weren't bad enough already." Lucifer states, rather unhelpfully, from where they're currently shining a perfectly normal flashlight on the garish California King bed that's taking up most of the master bedroom in #47. Either Angela Palmer really pissed off her decorator or someone out there actually thought bright red silk and dark woods were a good look in a room that was already heavily shadowed by the outlying forest. The whole room practically screamed 'sleazy soap opera affair'.

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but thankfully we're looking for blood here, not…any other bodily fluids. So we can skip the ALS."

"So we're just looking for traces of blood on red sheets then?"

"You and I both know all too well the color wouldn't match. But whatever killed our victim was flat and wooden, and everything in this room is pretty plush," Chloe eyes the tufted suede headboard, "or too heavy for our killer to lift," her eyes shift to the bulky mahogany 'his' and 'hers' nightstands.

"Perhaps someone slammed her head repeatedly on one of the furniture pieces. Or perhaps she did it to herself, after taking one look at this room." He suggests with obvious distaste.

"There's signs of blows to other parts of her body that make it unlikely she was pushed, or even 'slammed', into anything. Evidence suggests the killer bludgeoned her with something small enough to lift but heavy enough to inflict some serious damage. Or possibly two somethings, one small and one large based on the wound pattern."

"Perhaps two killers then? Maybe even one of our neighboring couples, looking to spice up their monotonous sex lives with a threesome gone horrifically wrong?" He grins over at her, as irreverent about grizzly murder scenes as always.

But that particular scenario, minus Lucifer's colorful descriptors, had actually crossed her mind after meeting some of their neighbors. "We haven't eliminated the possibility of multiple assailants, but statistically it's pretty unlikely. Three can keep a secret…"

"If two of them are dead? You certainly know your Franklin aphorisms, kudos to you. But with one body…"

"One killer is far more likely," Chloe finishes. "So is a single murder weapon, with two distinct surfaces."

"I don't think there's anything here like that, but it's been quite some weeks since."

"Nearly 9, at this point. A lot could have changed. This may not even be the right place, but it's the best we've got for now. So maybe we should check the other rooms?"

Searching the house comes with a eerie sense of deja vu. All the homes at the Palisades have roughly the same layout, so searching #47 is a lot like their first night at their own house, looking through each of the rooms. Only their house wasn't a possible murder scene at the time, and it had also been fully lit. Her flashlight and Lucifer's cellphone do little to dispel the creepy vibes of this house. Knowing that it's definitely the scene of multiple extramarital affairs doesn't help either. Chloe is extra careful not to touch any flat surfaces, and is surprised to find Lucifer doing the same. She's rarely seen him act squeamish, or even really bothered about the possibility of contaminating a crime scene. But lately he seems to be making more of an effort to play by the rules. Well, most of them, anyway.

It's well past 2 am by the time they finish searching the house, and the only evidence they've found of anyone else's presence here is two wine glasses left in the sink. Apparently a previous couple got a little sloppy.

"I don't think we're going to find anything in here tonight, maybe we should just call it a night and I'll have Ella come by tomorrow and see if we haven't missed anything." She tries to keep the disappointment from her voice, but basically they're back to square one with the investigation. They've now wasted two full days.

Lucifer seems to pick up on her disappointment, and does his best to remain optimistic. "Perhaps we could check the other houses at this end of the street?"

Chloe sighs, finally pushing through the backdoor and out into the night air. "Maybe, but I'm not sure there's much point in it. This house was pretty ideally located, none of the other completed homes are this far back into the woods, and all the neighboring homes can see them."

Lucifer considers this, looking around at the surrounding woods that keep this home so much more secluded than the rest, until his eyes land on something that gives him pause. "Detective, you said whatever killed Ms. Patel left both small and large flat wounds?"

"Yes…?"

"Would a 2x4 fit the bill?" Chloe follows along his line of sight to where some errant building materials are piled beside the house, clearly awaiting new construction. Among the materials is a stack of wooden 2x4s.

"Lucifer - you're brilliant," she utters without even thinking, already making a beeline towards the pile.

"I'm well aware of the fact - but far more importantly, I believe this is my sixth victory of the evening, and thus I think I should be entitled to…"

"Down boy. Let's see if you're even right first." She interrupts, pulling out a small bottle of Luminol from her bag and carefully spraying it across the wood.

The top few pieces reveal nothing, but tucked into the stack is a slightly warped piece that lights up like a Christmas tree under the Luminol. She immediately snaps several photos to send to Ella and the rest of the team.

"I think we may have found a potential murder weapon." She tries to tamp down on her excitement, but even Lucifer's boastful grin isn't enough to ruin her good mood. Small traces of blood lead from the back porch to the thick shrubbery around the AC system, likely where the body may have been hidden until it was disposed of.

They've managed to find the scene of the crime, a temporary body dump, and the smoking gun in one night. Now all that was left was to find their killer. All in all, not a bad end to their evening.

Chloe remains awake for several hours after they return to the house, working to update the CSI team even though they wouldn't be able to come by until tomorrow morning (apparently fresh crime scenes took precedence). And, if she's being honest, her whole evening has been pretty…interesting. When she finishes messaging her department, she finds herself going over everything else that happened that night - the unexpected game of strip pool, the late night swim, their almost kiss. It's a lot to take in.

But she can't find it in herself to regret any of her actions. Well, maybe she could have hit the brakes a little more gently when things got too heavy, at least that second time. It might not have even been so bad letting Lucifer kiss her again, this time without an audience egging them on. After all, he had already proved himself to be very very good at it. Though that was also sort of the problem. She's not entirely certain she could have stopped things from going further if she had let him kiss her.

Chloe realizes that Lucifer's gone way beyond just getting under her skin, now working his way past all her carefully crafted defenses, and cutting through all her excuses. He's proved himself loyal time and time again, but in their short time here he's also proved himself more reliable, more…committed to their weird partnership. She never thought he'd be able to endure so many quiet nights in, with so little in the way of his previous amusements, but so far he's been surprisingly content to hang around the house and cook delicious meals for the two of them. He's still not overly keen on doing any of the paperwork, but he has been helpful with the case, and endlessly patient with her. And with Trixie's visit, as well. She remembers Lucifer laughing and smiling along with her daughter, devoting his entire morning to her made up games without a single complaint, despite his previous reservations about children. In fact he honestly seemed to enjoy her company. And Trixie of course adores the man, and has ever since their first meeting. It's Chloe that's taken the longest to warm up to him.

But she definitely is, and she has no idea where this is all heading, but she's willing to maybe see where it goes. Though she has no idea quite where to start with it all, having spent so long shutting down any possibility of something between them. Last night she let Lucifer nudge her out of her comfort zone a little, but maybe it's time she does it on her own. Starting with going downstairs in her pajamas for once.

As plans go, this one is neither subtle nor particularly obvious either. She wants to prove to Lucifer that she's not going to back down or retreat into herself after last night, but she could also easily play it off if questioned. It's Sunday morning, after all. She's allowed to be lazy.

Lucifer doesn't bother to question her attire, but she can see from his wide smile that he understands the significance of the gesture. She offers back a small smile of her own, but otherwise tries to act as though it's a totally normal thing to parade around in nothing but his spare sleep shirt.

She manages to take her normal seat at the kitchen counter without accidentally flashing Lucifer, but she is keenly aware of how exposed she still is. Lucifer is seating himself as well, fluffy Greek omelettes already set out before them, which gives him the perfect vantage point to occasionally glance down at her bare legs with obvious appreciation. She's trying to ignore the fact that they're each currently wearing one half of a matching set, which means he, of course, is shirtless. And he has been shirtless every morning since they got here, but somehow it's completely different with so much bared skin of her own, and with her new resolution to see where this goes between them. Every move feels suddenly charged between them, and it's a lot to take in this early in the morning. She does her best to ignore the added intensity, and bring her focus back to her breakfast, which is amazing as usual.

"You know, I could really get used to this," she offers up in an attempt to break some of the tension. "I think you've spoiled me for cold cereal and grapefruit forever."

"Just say the word and I will make breakfast any time you desire." He extends back, with all the obvious implications.

"I guess you've gotten pretty skilled at making breakfast for the women in your life." She tries not to let any bitterness creep into her voice. She doesn't begrudge Lucifer his past, not really, but she still sometimes worries that one day he'll tire of her as well, even if he's shown no signs of doing so thus far.

"Perhaps, though usually they at least have the decency to sleep with me first." He teases, bumping her bare knee gently with his own.

"So you've never…" She sort of wants to ask if he's ever actually had a real relationship before, though she's not certain what she wants that answer to be.

"You're the only woman that holds that particular honor." He replies honestly. This time his knee reaches over and stays pressed against her own, and she allows herself to smile a little at the response. His skin is warm even through the thin pajama pants, but more than that his answer causes her whole body to warm pleasantly. He may have never been serious about anyone that came before, but he's making an effort to prove he can be serious now.

They enjoy the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence, relishing the tentative contact between their bodies. Chloe immediately regrets the loss when Lucifer stands to clear their dishes.

"You should just be thankful I actually enjoy cooking, otherwise I might have to question who the housewife is here." His teasing tone is back.

"Hey! I have a job!" She defends, "I mean Barbara Jones has a job. Obviously I do."

"You mean those frou-frou lotions?"

"Hey those frou-frou lotions got me in with the other housewives in the neighborhood." She ignores Lucifer's little victorious 'a-ha!' at lumping herself in with those same housewives, continuing on as if he had never spoken, "I've even been invited to do a sales party at Bunny's on Monday." Lucifer's grin only widens. "Speaking of which, I actually need to go down the station today. Detective Diaz's wife really does sell this stuff and is going to give me a crash course on all the products so I can sound like I know what I'm talking about - though I suspect she's more hoping I'll actually sell some of this junk. But the CSI team should be done with the other house pretty soon, and we can see if they've found anything else at the scene if you want to join me?"

"You know I'd love to talk bath products and blood spatters, but I actually have an appointment with our friend Maxine this afternoon."

"With the marriage counselor?" Chloe's brow furrows, trying to puzzle out why Lucifer would need to talk to her. "You don't actually suspect her of anything, do you? I mean I can go with you if you think we need to find out more about her, though she didn't really raise any red flags when we talked to her before…"

"That's quite alright, Detective, I think I'll handle this one on my own."

Chloe eyes him suspiciously. "You're not like…pursuing her, are you? I mean I know she's attractive, and you seem to have a thing for women who ignore you" - a category that used to only include herself, she realizes uneasily - "but Maxine is a lesbian, and also happily married. With kids, even!"

"I assure you my intentions are entirely pure." He holds his hands up in some kind of bastardized version of a boy scout's honor salute, trying to look as innocent as possible. Which usually means he's guilty.

"I'm sure." She answers back sharply, frustrated that they're back to him hiding things from her. But more than anything she's mad at herself for thinking things might have actually changed between them. "I guess I'll head to the station by myself, so I'm going to get dressed."

She moves to get up, and get out of this room where it suddenly feels like there's not quite enough air anymore. But Lucifer grasps at her too long sleeve as she's walking away, forcing her to stop in her tracks.

"Detective, I…" He starts, and when she looks back he looks genuinely upset by her sudden coldness, but it's all she has to protect herself with right now.

"I'll see you when I get back to the house." She shrugs him off, rushing out of the room before the humiliation overtakes her.

Back at the station, Chloe pointedly ignores all of Ella's questions about how things are going with Lucifer. She's already endured over an hour with Marlana Diaz and her extensive selection of organic skin care products for sale, each with its own ridiculous pitch, and it hasn't improved her mood in the slightest. Right now she just really, really wants to focus back on the real case. Right now they're supposed to be exploring possible motives.

"I'm thinking the affair angle is the most likely scenario with evidence we have."

"Speaking of affairs…" Elena chimes in, as subtle as a punch in the face, and almost as painful. She tries not to think what Lucifer might be up to right now with Maxine. Or Sharon. Or both of them.

Chloe shoots a thoroughly unamused look toward the other agent, who thankfully takes the hint and gets back on topic.

"I guess it makes sense, with the weird sex house being the scene of the crime. Though it's a little strange she was killed out in the backyard instead of inside. Way less risk of witnesses."

"The violence and improvised weapon mean it was likely a crime of passion, so it's not that strange. We think that maybe she was leaving the house, when the killer got angry. Or perhaps the guy's wife was waiting out there and just snapped. Did you find any evidence of her being in the house itself."

"Nada, though the house has probably been cleaned a few times in the past couple months. I mean several people were definitely using that house like a hotel, but like a nice hotel. The sheets have been washed at some point, the floors vacuumed. We were sort of expecting a Super8 motel scenario, but while we picked up a lot of fingerprints, we only got three DNA samples, and those will take some time to process."

"Any hits on the fingerprints?"

"Only two so far, but Tamika's still widening our net. We'll have the info for you in another couple hours, including a file on all of our preliminary findings. It's not much so far but hey, at least we know almost for sure the blood on the wood is a match for Vidya's. AB neg is pretty rare."

Ella offers a supportive thumbs up, and weirdly it helps ease a little of the tension she's been feeling all afternoon. Even if her personal life is a complete disaster, at least they're getting somewhere with the case. She hopes she can distract herself here for a few more hours with all the paperwork that's accumulated, but Ella just shuffles her out, pointing to the dark circles under her eyes as a reason enough for her to finish it later.

She doesn't expect to find anyone at home when she arrives. It's barely 6:30, and who knows how long Lucifer will be out doing…whatever it is he's doing. And she certainly doesn't expect to find him calmly sitting on the couch, takeout containers of her favorite mole rojo and a bottle of red wine sitting on the coffee table, clearly anticipating her arrival.

But she's not about to be bought off with Mexican takeout, even if she's been craving it for weeks. Her tone still carries some of its previous coldness when she finally addresses him. "I thought you were with Maxine today?"

"Oh that? The appointment only lasted an hour, and Sharon is right - she really doesn't charge enough for her services."

"Charge enough for what services?" She can feel her frustration building again. Why must this man always speak in convoluted riddles and jokes?

"I thought that would be obvious - Maxine is a relationship counselor after all." He chuckles, though he at least has the sense to look a tiny bit apologetic. "I was simply asking her for some advice."

"You what?" Just what exactly had he told their neighbors?

"No need to worry, Detective, I didn't reveal our true identities to her. I merely suggested we, or Robert and Barbara Jones, had been having some trouble communicating."

Some of her anger deflates at his response, leaving her more confused than anything else. "And why would you even tell her this?"

"Because it's the truth. Because I've done everything I can think of to convince you of the sincerity of my affections, and still you keep me at arm's length - so I thought I might try consulting with a relationship professional."

"So this," she indicates the food on the table, "is your plan to convince me?"

"No, this is merely a token of apology, to make up for this morning's ruined meal. I had thought, perhaps…Maxine had a very complicated explanation about a thing called 'love languages', and I confess a lot of it sounded like nonsense, but she also helped me realize that I might not always appear to be the most reliable of men."

Chloe huffs out an agreement for Maxine's assessment. It's certainly an understatement.

"And when she asked about our most recent disagreement, I tried to explain what happened this morning - without giving too much away about our work, of course. She said you were perhaps exhibiting signs of jealousy - which I told her was completely ridiculous, you know my interest lies solely in you. So then she suggested you might instead be upset because I abandoned you to do all the work yourself, which sounded much more like you. Apparently the good doctor is as perceptive as her wife claims her to be."

Chloe can admit to herself that she was a bit jealous before she knew the reason of Lucifer's appointment, and she's embarrassed to have the fact be made so apparent to their neighbors, thought at least Lucifer remains unaware of those feelings. But more than that she realizes she really was upset that he had ditched her once again merely because it suited him. And that's what frightens her the most about this thing with Lucifer - even though lately he's always been there for the big stuff, she can't always count on him for the little things. And relationships are made up of those little things. She can't rely on the occasional grand gestures to make this work.

But Lucifer presses on with his explanation. "So I picked up your favorite meal from Guelaguetza to apologize and then I thought maybe I could help you with the paperwork this time, and we can go over the case files together?"

"How'd you even…Ella." Chloe suddenly realizes why the other woman had rushed her out of the office with her paperwork unfinished. Those two were thick as thieves, and twice as dangerous when they conspired against her.

"She merely suggested I might offer my services tonight, and perhaps mentioned what time you might be home."

And it's certainly not a grand gesture - it's only Mexican food and paperwork after all. But he's here for her when he doesn't have to be, and it's exactly what she needs right now. She breathes out a heavy sigh, letting go of her frustrations and her fears, just for a little while, and lets herself smile back at the man standing repentant before her.

"That would be great, Lucifer. Thank you."

Maybe Maxine really does have superpowers, after all.

After all that, it turns out that Lucifer is really not much help with her paperwork - she spends more time explaining to him how to fill out the reports than it would have taken for her to do them on her own - but she's happy to share the task all the same.

They've highlighted some names on their list as the most likely suspects - Cliff and Peggy Davis at the top, but also Mercedes and Hank, their hosts from the luau, and several other couples they know are having trouble, including the Isaacsons. The Lamonts have an alibi, at least. They were on a costly family vacation in the Bahamas at the time of the murder. There are still a lot of names on their list, however, and they've barely trimmed it down from where it was before.

But through it all, Lucifer never once complains - though he does pout a little when she pulls out several more stacks of reports from her bag. Still they work their way through everything they can, plus quite a lot of mole rojo, and the entire bottle of wine. By midnight they've started recreating the murder scene using the styrofoam container as an improvised weapon, Chloe bludgeoning an unresisting Lucifer.

"A hit, a very palpable hit!" He announces as he falls to the ground.

Lucifer has apparently decided that the well-educated Ms. Patel would be quoting Hamlet on the way down, and Chloe joins him on the floor in a fit of giggles at their terrible playacting. She's not quite tipsy, neither of them are, but they've certainly moved into the sillier stages of exhaustion. Which is how she winds up kneeling on the floor above a "wounded" Lucifer, smiling down at her partner's ridiculous soliloquizing.

At the end of his speech, she finally gives into the irresistible urge to lean down and kiss him. She doesn't overthink it, or hesitate for a moment, she just plants her hands beside his head and presses her lips to his. He still tastes of hot sauce and peppers - she imagines they both do - but the kiss is still as sweet as their first. Only this time there's no one there watching them, no one they need to convince. She's doing this purely because she wants to, because Lucifer is trying so hard to prove himself to her, and simply because she can. So she lets herself have this. Lucifer doesn't resist in the slightest, not that she had expected him to, but neither does he push for more, content to let her set the pace this time.

After a while she allows the kiss to deepen, chasing the taste of spice and wine as her tongue sweeps into Lucifer's parted lips, a gesture he eagerly returns. His hand eventually reaches up to thread long fingers through her hair, gently tugging back the golden strands and drawing out a small gasp in response. She nips his bottom lip gently in retaliation, soothing the bite with her tongue and earning a pleased growl for herself. But there's no real urgency here, allowing the kiss to stretch on endlessly until they're both lightheaded from it.

Chloe thinks she spend hours doing this, just making out on the living room floor like a couple teenagers. Or maybe she could pretend this really was their house, and that she gets to wake up to a shirtless Lucifer cooking breakfast for her every morning. Or better yet, to him in the bed beside her, waking her with lazy, drawn-out kisses. But whatever this thing is between them is still too new, and she can recognize her own need to take it slow for now.

Thankfully, Lucifer seems to understand this as well. When she reluctantly pulls back, he willingly lets her guide them back onto the couch, where the last of the paperwork still awaits them. They settle in to finish the work together, Chloe relaxing into Lucifer's side, feeling safe and content in a way she had never expected to feel again.