Authors' notes:

Here we are, I finally allow myself to work 100% on this post S4 finale fanfiction.

The following story is inspired by a prompt found on 'Lucifer Prompts' on Tumblr;

Before they start having sex Chloe asks Lucifer to make a list of things he wants to do with her so they can discuss it together and she can mark what she is/isn't comfortable with. The list surprises her.

Perfect subject for a sequel to season 4! X)

So I'm warning you,

This story contains explicit sexual scenes that aren't for children nor teenagers (I will warn at the beginning of chapters concerned, but I would be grateful to the youngest readers to resist the temptation ^^).

It also has (necessarily) a large number of spoilers about the events of the latest season released on Netflix.

Thank you to Kittendealer for your support and enthusiasm for this fanfiction before I even publish it. The story will be beta-checked as soon as it can be (I hope there aren't too many faults).

(Fanvid inspiration/motivation - 'Lucifer & Chloe / Lost without you' Always108)

SIMPLE THINGS

1

"I can't believe your work keeps handing out boring tasks like this, Detective."

Lucifer sighs and puts an umpteenth file on the pile of 'classified' ones, glaring at the much higher pile of 'unclassified' files to his right. Chloe smiles without lifting her gaze from her own file on its way to be classified as well - just fifty left now, so great - thrilled to hear him complain, hear him name her so, hear him trying to keep up appearances only to please her; as much as he can submit himself to such boring professional tasks.

She repeats herself that this is real, but everything prevails in holding otherwise.

A dream.

You're dreaming. He's gone... he's gone so far.

Far... Hell can't be less concerned by such an adjective, from what Lucifer told her. 'Far' means nothing, so little for the distance, the distance they endured for her own sake, for Charlie's, his closest family and friend's, for the whole world's sake.

It's a dream, an illusion.

Chloe's nightmare, her own torment brought back to Earth, long before her death... just for her, a woman - human and stupid - who dared to let the Devil go, who rejected him, abandoned him and then forced him to leave for her own sake... hers. Chloe dreams on a loop, her hell loop, born from Hell for the hell she's living, caused by his absence.

His sacrifice.

Chloe is afraid to look up. Of course, she can always try to convince herself that such hesitation is strictly professional, concerned she is not to lose tracks for an expected and repeated joke on his part. But she wouldn't fool anyone, she above anyone else. She always fears that this voice, this joke, would be nothing more than her imagination, her torment prolonged to her five senses. How many times did she find herself in the same kind of situation, when she looked up, turned around and met nothing but emptiness?

Too many times.

A dream….

Chloe's unfazed breathing becomes noisier without Lucifer noticing. His lack of reaction deepens her anxiety to have been mistaken once again, to dream, hope for nothing... to suffer almost as much as he does, where he's trapped.

But no.

She knows sheisn't.

Her gaze slips over pages, slowly rising towards the end of the desk; towards this designer navy blue sleeve, this wrist and this hand wearing a very particular ring. She watches as this hand grabs another file - its yellow cover clashes prodigiously with the hue of the sleeve. She listens to this sigh that isn't hers, which isn't exhaled from her closed lips.

Her smile widens and her breathing calms down. "Nothing will ever overcome paperwork, Lucifer. Not even the Devil," she teases him while letting her gaze lift to his face.

He smiles slightly at her teasing, more amused than offended by it. And for a moment, nothing else exists but him, but her. Both of them thrilled to get lost in each other's gaze, thrilled that this isn't their mind playing tricks to them, nor their guilt. After that Lucifer looks away, browsing a few pages of his gaudy yellowish file.

He reads the first page more attentively, puzzlement growing on his face. "Why should we endure so much paperwork for this 'Ryan Scott'?"

"Because we arrested him for murder. Five days ago; remember?"

Lucifer stays quiet, lost in the puzzling reading of the case in his hands.

He shakes his head. "If human laws for such a crime lead to greater punishments for the executioners, I'd suggest for you to find another occupation, dear. The sentence doesn't deserve this sleep-inducing task!"

"I'm not gonna quit for so little, Lucifer;" Chloe replies, turning another page of her own file - redundant punishment of another suspect for another crime.

"I tortured miscreants for so little, as you say."

She laughs; amused even if she gets nervous by hearing this. Oh, make no mistake; the fear of Lucifer has nothing to do with her reaction here. This kind of fear has nothing to do with her anymore, actually. She hadn't lied that night and wouldn't go back on her past and actual words.

But the fear of 'something else', on the other hand….

For so little, hm?

For so much more, given the obvious hostility of those demons during that horrible night. De facto, any demon is notoriously hostile - towards each other as much as towards their King and any other species. But that night had been...

... emotionally hostile.

"P-Please..."

In many ways.

"Goodbye."

"You never told me…" Chloe begins and Lucifer gives her polite look, inviting her to continue with an arching eyebrow, "how... how you punished people in Hell.'"

"Well, you never asked."

"True. I thought that... that you were feeling uncomfortable with the subject, actually," she says shyly, smiling.

He looks quietly at her for a moment and Chloe begins to think she just crossed a line, the same line she had grazed the last time, when she had implied how he might have liked torturing people in his rightful kingdom of punishments. But a smile rises in this embarrassing silence, Lucifer's smile.

"I will never stop being amazed by your reactions, Detective," he murmurs.

"I…."

What response could she give?

"You care about what I might feel uncomfortable with... me, the Devil," he continues, his smile widening further.

It is as large as it can be now. However, her fears of making him feel uncomfortable with her questions is soon enough confirmed; he's still smiling, but his eyes betray an emotion quite different from this perfect curve on his lips. Something's bothering him.

"But you are, aren't' you?" she says, her brow furrowed.

"I- Well, I suppose I am."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

He immediately interrupts her by placing his hand on hers, "Oh, no, no! You misunderstood me, Detective. I'm just- I don't know how to react, I can't even tell if there's an appropriate way to react to your... kindness," he ends with a more tense smile.

Lucifer's discomfort erases Chloe's who squeezes his hand so hard that it hurts; if she makes him feel - in addition to this emotional inconvenience - any physical discomfort, he doesn't tell, fully satisfied with her touch so as not thinking of complaining about anything else. Neither would she.

"It's all right. Any of your reactions will do..."

His smile shifts from embarrassment to a more frank appreciation of what he just heard. The human who had emerged from this perfectly understandable discomfort lets the immortal being rise, it happens so fast that Chloe doubts she has the same person before her the next moment. She watches his thousand-year-old presence grow, at the cost of the shy tenderness shown earlier.

"Will they, now?"

She watches him being very pleased by the news. She looks at his grin, with that slight touch of sincere happiness in it that she knows to provoke so easily; as much as he does with her. Lucifer leans over the desk towards her; too far to touch her, but close enough to arouse her. He gets that result from her with so little effort, so little to disrupt her thoughts, to turn on her desires in an instant….

A dream.

Another kind of dream.

The line of his neck, right under his white collar. The line of his jaw, the sunlight on his skin, between each of his black curls that are perfectly subdued to the Devil's skills.

Having some difficulties breathing properly, Chloe starts to writhe on her seat; crossing her legs to regain some composure.

Worse.

Her jeans take part in the global treason of her senses, of her body that is no longer responding to her commands. Not from her anymore; only from this man's commands, this angel, th— No, the Devil's commands. The fabric exerts some friction between her thighs, neither painful nor totally pleasant. She gulps, squeezing the Tippex in her hand. Burning for the Devil - how appropriate. Burning so easily… This is just a question, a common approach with her desk standing between them, damn it!

It's just a dream.

Idyllic burning.

Some people unaware of this shared, desired dream pass near the detective's desk and give her a welcome interlude to her thoughts. She shirks from the Devil's easy grip on her soul, the latter reluctantly releasing her hand from his, perfectly aware of the change in his partner's behaviour with this simple touch. She places her hands on her still opened file, the confined fire of her desire nevertheless moving up to her cheeks. She coughs, definitely uncomfortable; and definitely the only one of the two to be uncomfortable for so little.

"So..." Chloe continues, looking down. "H-How did you punish criminals down there? Was it... somehow 'simpler' than here?"

It has to be, somehow. Eternal damnation goes far beyond all these human and administrative trivialities, these constraints of partiality, of corruption, injustice... without all this, 'punishing the bad guys' should be simpler. Fairer.

Lucifer sighs, looking absentmindedly before him; at this unquantifiable distance from her, from the precinct.

Chloe wants to touch him again, but not for the same reasons as before. Instead, she rolls her pen between her fingers; back and forth, from one fear to another.

He's here, right here... right before you.

"It might look like it, indeed," he answers, always looking astray at a place that she would only know by reputation. "But it isn't as simple as you think."

"What do you mean?"

"It's difficult to constrain yourself to strict punishment when there aren't these numerous human legal procedures to stop you in your tracks. There's nothing but you and the crime, the condemned one and the executioner. This lack of restrictions leads to simplicity, but not necessarily for the best."

She watches him take a long breath and briefly clench his fist on the desk; too easily brought back to memories she suspects are unpleasant.

Many of hers are.

"All those people you tortured... Did you enjoy it?"

"It was a job, Detective."

"You mean Hell has no limits for this? I thought it was giving the 'right' punishment every time, to everyone?" Chloe wonders.

"Oh, don't get me wrong! Hell is unwavering fair in its judgment, it just hasn't always been the case. When I f—"

He keeps quiet, his fist definitely clenched, he definitely breathes slower than before. She doesn't push him to pursue, even if her curiosity would like if he does. Lucifer gulps, loosening his fingers one after the other, not looking at her at once.

"When I fell…" he says in a tensed voice. "Hell wasn't yet as 'organized' as it is now. There were still so many things to do, so…."

"So you had to take the law into your own hands," she finishes for him.

Her voice is gentle, without any kind of accusations. Lucifer finally looks at her, reassured to see a smile on his partner's face; reassured that he is well and truly accepted for what he is, what he has been because he has to.

He nods. "I didn't like this new job of mine, but the crimes had been sometimes so 'willingly' perpetrated that I might have overstepped the mark. In many ways. These men, women who had done such revolting things and who boasted over and over again about it… telling me this; to me, the angel who had defended them, who had—"

He stops again, glancing at her.

And this time, Chloe puts her hand on his. "It led you to do some things."

He almost stops breathing, his hand still under hers. Chloe squeezes it, just enough to feel this slight tremor moving along her palm, this tremor from the Devil's soul, from the fallen angel, along her skin.

Angel, Devil… unique celestial being; she still has to deal with these notions in her existence, in every word, every reaction from Lucifer. How should he perceive her; a simple fallible human trying to understand this very personal divine justice that he had inflicted to others in the past?

They are like insects, such tiny creatures….

"Simple things, yes," he whispers.

"But now you do make things difficult for yourself, don't you?"

With these words, Chloe glances at all the files being piled up here and there on her desk between he and she, a slight smile on her lips. Lucifer's features gradually relax and his fingers join hers, confident in their skillful and measured conquest.

"I probably do," he says with a radiant smile that widens her own.

An equally measured heat starts to rise along her wrist. His celestial fingers brush its curve, right above her palm. They run along each of her veins of her skin. What she wouldn't give for a sudden cold snap. Make no mistake, she finds a lot of pleasure in this contact; much too fast, too fast in this context, this place. Near all these people, colleagues, friends and—

Lucifer's fingers move slightly back and forth. Chloe's breathing quickens, her palm quivers. He feels it and a very different smile rises on his lips. He doesn't move further, however, nor does he stop; things stay at this shy touch of their respective skin, their hands. No kiss - Lucifer knows she wouldn't allow it. She doesn't like to put on a show and, in a way, recently found herself selfish about his displays of affection.

But she thinks about their kiss anyway.

She starts to think of other things, those things that it's normal to think of.

Simple things.

"Hey, Deckerstar!" someonesuddenly heels them.

Once again surprised and interrupted by wrong places and context, Lucifer moves his fingers away from her skin, not without brushing her palm all the way along, which causes Chloe to shiver again. Closing her fist immediately, she turns her head, shaking it while she spots Ella near her lab.

"I already told her to stop calling us like this…" she grumbles, not much loving the denomination.

Anyone else wouldn't as well after hearing it over and over again - whispered, exulted, shouted, sung - as soon as she and her partner showed themselves together at her workplace, which is normal and intentional in a partnership, but a regrettable invitation to celebrate their recently more personal collaboration.

Chloe starts to regret having let Ella in on the secret.

"It sounds perfect to me," he laughs.

They share a knowing glance before the young forensic arrives at her desk, all excited, " 'Got a new case!"

"See, Detective?" Lucifer exclaims with a pleased intonation.

She doesn't, actually; and makes him understand her lack of sight by arching an eyebrow.

"An all new crime can overcome mind-numbing paperwork," he reveals to her as he closes with a barely contained joy the gaudy yellowish file opened on her desk. "It was so simple!"

Without further ado, not even his partner, the Devil sits up and asks details about the case to Ella. Chloe slowly closes her own file, staring at Lucifer who walks away towards the main stairs while rubbing fingers - regrettably, hers - on her quivering palm.

It was so simple.

Hm? Ah, how the hell did he came back from… well,from Hell?

You'll get answers as chapters go by X)

Next chapter as soon as I can translate it (must finish it in French first)

Thanks for reading!