After work the following day Chloe finds Lucifer back at his own apartment, instead of at the hospital where he should have been. He's still pretty banged up and heavily bandaged, but he looks a little more like his old self in a pressed shirt and trousers, reclining leisurely is his own room. The sight of his bare feet at the end of the bed feels strangely intimate, but it's not enough to distract her from the lecture she's about to deliver.
"I called Dr. Lin to check on you today and she tells me you checked yourself out." Her hands have migrated to her hips of their own volition. "At this point I really shouldn't be surprised at your reckless behavior, but this is just beyond stupid."
"Why? Just because I left that dreary little hospital?" His voice is still rough from the smoke, though nowhere near as bad as last night's harsh rasping. This does little to temper Chloe's anger and concern.
"Against the doctor's orders! How'd you even get home?" She's imagining all sorts of terrible scenarios where he's attempting to drive himself or conning some nurse into giving him a ride home.
"Maze, of course." It appears they're back on speaking terms again. "A regrettable decision, however. It seems she found out about your little 'fiancé' scam from one of the nurses, and now there will be no end to her insubordination."
As if an insubordinate assistant is the problem! "Well where is Mazikeen now? Shouldn't she be taking care of you or something? You still need to change your bandages every few hours, and it's not like you can do that on your own right now."
"I'm sure I'll figure something out. Maze isn't exactly one for playing nursemaid. She's about as nurturing as a snake, really - the kind that eat their young."
"I don't think snakes do that." She's had enough trips to zoo with Trixie to know that much, at least.
"Then what am I thinking of?" Lucifer looks so charmingly puzzled she almost considers forgiving him his idiocy. Almost.
"Hamsters, maybe? I'm not sure Mazikeen would appreciate the comparison."
"Perhaps not." He smiles wryly, an expression that quickly morphs into self-satisfied grin. "I know, why don't you just help me with these bandages?" He seems far too pleased with his own cleverness.
"So now I'm your nursemaid?" Unbelievable!
"No, you're my fiancé, remember? And I know you would't just abandon me to potential infection."
Her face heats up at being reminded again of her ill-advised lie, and she scowls in response. Both at the jab and because she knows he's right.
"Fine, but know that I am doing this under duress. It is only to prevent you making things worse and not because I condone you checking yourself out against medical advisement. Though really I should just drag you back to the hospital."
"Chloe…" He doesn't say it, but she can see the pleading in his expression. Apparently the 'lord of hell' isn't a big fan of hospitals, though she can't really blame him. Being there has a way of making you feel helpless, and reminding you of your own mortality. And while Lucifer could certainly use the occasionally healthy reminder of the fact that he's not invincible, now really doesn't feel like the right time. He might casually ignore his own mortality, but he's proven to be very aware of hers. And neither of them is ready to confront what might have happened if things had gone differently at the precinct.
She interrupts that maudlin train of thought by shifting into first aid mode. "Alright, did Dr. Lin send some supplies home with you at least?"
"Maze tossed it somewhere out near the front I suppose." He waves a bandaged hand towards the front rooms.
Chloe goes out in search for them, managing to find an intimidatingly heavy packet of care instructions, a collection of sealed sterile bandages, and several prescription bottles and tubes spread haphazardly across a table. She brings them all back with her, studying the instructions intently as she re-enters Lucifer's room.
"Surely it can't be that complicated?"
"Hush, I'm reading." Lucifer, surprisingly, manages to behave as she reads through the rest of the most salient points. But she can sense him getting restless again, and decides she'll review the rest of the info later. She's at least fairly certain she won't accidentally make things worse at this point.
"Ok, first we need to get rid of the soiled bandages." Lucifer screws up his face at this, but obediently holds out his bandaged hands towards her. She sits at the edge of the bed and unravels them slowly, doing her best not to wince at the blistered skin of his palms as they're slowly uncovered. It looks considerably better than what she remembers during their time with the paramedics, but it still looks pretty painful. Lucifer, strangely, looks down at his hands with more surprise at their burned state than any real indication of pain. Chloe wonders if she'll ever fully understand the man in front of her.
"Ok, it says that next we need to soak the burned area a bit, do you have any clean washcloths?" Lucifer nods at the adjacent bathroom, and Chloe returns with the too-nice linens, now dampened with cool water. Lucifer hisses a bit as she applies the cloths to his hands, and Chloe is torn between feelings of sympathy and near relief at the surprisingly normal response. She slips a dry towel beneath his hands to keep from drenching the entire bed.
"Any news about towering inferno formerly known as your evidence room?" He asks suddenly. Chloe recognizes the desire for distraction.
"Not much. They think it may have started in the bathroom next door - they share a wall that's not as thick as the rest. But they still can't tell what started it, since there's not exactly security cameras in the restrooms."
"Which anyone working at the station would know."
"The thought had occurred to me, but I don't know that it's anything related to Palmetto, and if it was intentional I don't think we were the intended targets. No one even knew I was looking into the suicide note."
"Except Dan." Lucifer reminds her. Chloe tenses up.
"You can't possibly be suggesting that Dan was involved." It's not a question.
"I've seen exes do worse." He shrugs, as if it's completely normal to suggest her former husband may have played a role in starting the fire that nearly killed both of them.
"Whatever you might think of him, Dan's a good man, and he was watching Trixie all night. He even told me how grateful he was that you were with me when it happened." She's not sure why she feels the need to defend Dan against Lucifer's ridiculous implication, but at least he manages to look appropriately chastised.
"Do the police have any suspects then?" He offers up as a white flag.
"They'll know more when they figure out the source of the fire. At least neither of us is a suspect. Small favors, at least." Lucifer hmms in agreement. "Alright, I think your hands are thoroughly soaked, time to put on this antibiotic ointment and then re-wrap them."
Lucifer opts this time to let her work in silence, keeping his fidgeting minimal as she tries to smooth over his palms and fingers with the antibiotic cream as gently as possible, taking care to avoid any deep breaks in the flesh. The rest of his skin still feels raw and too warm, and she feels relieved when she can finally re-bandage the injured appendages. She looks down at her handiwork approvingly.
"Well, you're all set for now at least. I should probably get home, but I can come back later to check on you." She offers.
"Leaving so soon?" The words are teasing, but there's something underneath them as well that makes her hesitate.
"Well, Trixie's at Dan's for another night, but I have a lot of things to catch up on at home." She stayed the whole of the previous night at Lucifer's bedside, only running home briefly before work to shower and change.
"Or you could stay here and keep me from dying of boredom." He grins in what he must think is a charming way, but Chloe only rolls her eyes.
"No one's ever died of boredom, you'll manage to survive somehow. And I can turn on the tv for you or something."
"As much as I'm sure I would enjoy watch the tawdry antics of the 'real housewives', I had a different form of entertainment in mind…" He leers.
"Lucifer, I already told you there's no way I'm even thinking about sleeping with you until the bandages come off and I know there's no permanent damage to your lungs."
"And just when will that be, exactly?"
"Dr. Lin said it would be another week or so. At least." She states as firmly as possible.
"One week it is then. Though I wasn't actually suggesting sex, so you can get your mind out of the gutter, Detective."
Like hell he wasn't suggesting that. But whatever, she'll play along if it means changing the subject to a safer topic. "And just what were you suggesting?"
"I was simply wondering if you might be willing to read to me, as I can't exactly turn the pages like this." Once again he holds up his hands in front of her in an obvious ploy for sympathy, and the sad part is it's actually working.
It's a small enough favor, at least. "Ok. Just for a little while, though. I really should get home at some point. What are you in the mood for?"
"Perhaps some Lawrence?" Chloe wanders out to look at the extensive library of books that line Lucifer's walls, finally beginning to believe that Lucifer really might just be a huge literary fan. Until she finally tracks down a copy of Lawrence.
"Lady Chatterley's Lover? Seriously?"
"It's a classic." She can actually hear him grinning from the other room. Once again she can feel her eyes rolling at his lack of subtlety, but she decides to go along with it. She's never actually read this particular novel, but she is aware of its status as a classic. How bad can it be?
She returns to Lucifer's room, seating herself on the bed by his hip. She falls back into her usual storytime habits, holding up the elegant leatherbound book for him to see before opening it to the first page and beginning to read in a carefully measured voice.
"Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen."
So far so good, it certainly wasn't some trashy romance novel as she initially feared.
"This was more or less Constance Chatterley's position. The war had brought the roof down over her head. And she had realized that one must live and learn."
"You can skip ahead a bit, perhaps to page 368?"
Figuring he had already started the book earlier - though why he had memorized the page number rather than just leaving a bookmark - she flips ahead to the prescribed page towards the end of the novel.
"'Shan't you go up?' he said. 'There's a candle!'
He jerked his head swiftly to indicate the candle burning on the table. She took it obediently, and he watched the full curve of her hips as she went up the first stairs.
It was a night of sensual passion, in which she was a little startled and almost unwilling: yet pierced again with piercing thrills of sensuality, different, sharper, more terrible than the thrills of tenderness, but, at the moment, more desirable." Chloe nearly slams the book shut. "Come on, seriously?"
"Keep going." When she looks over he's not laughing at her, and his face holds no trace of teasing. His eyes are darker now than they had been a few moments earlier, and something in his expression persuades her to continue.
"Though a little frightened, she let him have his way, and the reckless, shameless sensuality shook her to her foundations, stripped her to the very last, and made a different woman of her. It was not really love. It was not voluptuousness. It was sensuality sharp and searing as fire, burning the soul to tinder."
Chloe feels herself growing warmer as she continues to read aloud the words before her. They're not even particularly explicit, but there's an intensity to them that burns beneath her skin. She can see a bit of herself in the heroine, and certainly more than a little of Lucifer in Mellors. She nearly laughs when she reaches bit about 'reckless devils', but the weight of Lucifer's gaze prevents her from doing so.
Both the scene and her own situation are filled with a piercing sensuality, and it's impossible to ignore the effect it's having on her. Perhaps this was Lucifer's intention all along? But when she dares to risk a glance over towards the man in question, he appears similarly afflicted. If he had planned this he clearly hadn't thought it all the way through. It occurs to her that Lucifer has suffered more from the constant interruptions to their intimate moments than she has - having had at least some relief rather recently - and that his current situation prevents him from even taking care of himself. So she's relieved when after a few short pages the novel drifts back into the more mundane aspects of the story, giving them both a chance to catch their breath a little.
When she spares another look towards her patient, he's sunk back into the pillows and his eyes are closed. He's not yet asleep, but near enough. Though he immediately rouses himself as she pauses in her reading.
"Stopping already? So much for stamina." He teases hoarsely.
"I have a seven-year-old at home, I'll have you know I can read all night. But you looked like you were about to fall asleep." She taunts back with a dig at his own claims of 'all night' stamina.
"Just enjoying the sound of you reading one of my favorite passages, I don't suppose there's any convincing you to continue on with one of Anais Nin's?"
"I may not have the page numbers memorized but I do read, Lucifer, and I know better than to fall for that again. How about some Charlotte's Web? That one always puts Trix to sleep."
"I'm not a child, Detective, and it's nowhere near my bedtime. Though I could perhaps be convinced…" He leers suggestively.
"It's still a week before you're cleared for anything more strenuous than tricking unsuspecting women into reading dirty books to you. Think of something else to do."
"How about a bath?" His expression is almost innocent, but she knows him too well to believe it.
"A bath?" She repeats incredulously.
"I still feel like I'm covered in ash, and I can't exactly take a shower like this." She wonders how often he's going to use his burned hands to talk her into things - likely more than is good for her.
"So you want me to draw you a bath?" She offers.
"I'm going to need a little more help than that." And he's doing it again, some sort of simultaneous puppy dog eyes/lecherous grin combination. It should look ridiculous, and it does, but it's also working.
In lieu of responding, she simply sighs and walks over to the bathroom, expecting him to follow. The bathtub itself is, of course, as extravagant as the rest of the house, and it takes her a few moments to figure out the taps, gauging the temperature with her forearm. She watches the tub fill for a few moments, before moving back. When she turns Lucifer is standing directly behind her, looking at her expectantly.
For some reason her mind hadn't fully processed that Lucifer would need help undressing as well. "Who even put you in all this?"
"Maze, of course. It wasn't a pleasant experience for either of us." He grimaces at the memory, and she can almost picture Makizeen roughly forcing him into his clothes with all the gentleness of a swarm of wasps.
Chloe sometimes wonders at their closeness, but there is an antagonism there that reminds her more of a familial relationship than a romantic one. And it's not like she's without her own baggage, so she mostly accepts their strange partnership, even if she does wonder at the number of times the other woman has probably seen Lucifer naked. She tries not to think of the countless other women who share this same intimate knowledge. Lucifer is here with her now, having just risked his own life in order to help her, and she has no reason to doubt his feeling for her, nor her own towards him.
Chloe takes a deep breath before standing again, turning to face Lucifer fully. This close it's impossible to miss the way his eyes darken as her fingers reach for his top button. She tugs it free carefully, doing her best to keep her breathing steady and even. It's just his shirt, after all, and she's seen Lucifer without one countless times before - this time should be no different. Except that it is, because this time she is the one in control, and right now she is close enough to feel the searing heat radiating from his skin as its slowly revealed. And the sharp intake of breath she hears as she's pulling his shirttails loose from his trousers prove that she's not alone in being affected by the situation and their nearness.
Freeing his bandaged hands from the tangle of shirtsleeves is significantly more awkward, and definitely less sexy, but oddly intimate in its own way. Because this isn't about sex - it's about Lucifer allowing her to see him vulnerable, and actually asking her for help without needing to make up some wild excuse. He patiently accepts her gentle assistance, for once not pushing for anything more or less than what she's offering.
But of course he can't quite suppress the grin that that makes its way to his lips as she reaches for his waistband. Chloe tries to remain very clinical and detached about the whole thing, but this is still pretty new territory for both of them. The sound of his zipper echoes loudly in the silence of the room, and she nearly gasps at the discovery that he's not wearing anything beneath. She's grateful that Lucifer seems alright to manage the rest by himself, as her hands are no longer quite as steady as when they began.
Still, she's able to help him carefully into the tub, mindful of keeping his hands out of the water. Her eyes focus on everything other than the miles of bare skin now in front of her, until at last he's finally submerged. Almost immediately she can see some of the tension drain from Lucifer's shoulders, and she can certainly appreciate the need to be completely cleansed of the smoke and ash that cling like a bad dream. His eyes flutter closed, and she carefully reaches into the water, scooping up small handfuls to pour across his shoulders and his hair. This isn't really the best position to try and wash it thoroughly, so she makes do with combing her fingers through the dark strands and rinsing it as well as she can, brushing across his shoulders and neck with each fresh handful of water. He leans into her touch, simply allowing her to take care of him, and she can't help the smile that creeps onto her face. It's all very domestic, and sweet in a way she hadn't expected with him.
Satisfied that his hair is as clean as it's going to get, she steps away to dry off. His eyes open as she moves off the side of the tub, and his he tilts his head to look back up at her just as she's making her way out of the room.
"Detective, aren't you going to join me?" The dea is certainly not without its appeal, though this isn't exactly what she had imagined when he first asked for her help. She's considering it though, and Lucifer jumps on the fact that she doesn't immediately refuse. "There's room enough for two in here."
Really there's more than enough space to fit at least four people in the rather generous tub, and Chloe thinks to herself it's been quite some time since she had the luxury of long soak in a real bath. She quickly weighs out the pros and cons of joining him - eventually she is won over by the temptation of a very naked, very wet Lucifer looking up at her with one of his rare, honest smiles. They've suffered from far too many interruptions and setbacks lately, and they deserve this small moment of peace and intimacy.
Chloe strips quickly, pushing past any lingering nervousness at having him watching her so obviously. There's no fancy lingerie beneath her practical work clothes, but the way that Lucifer nearly growls at the sight of her mismatched underwear does wonders for her confidence. They end up tossed on the floor along with the rest of her clothing before she's slipping too quickly over to the opposite side of the tub, splashing water onto the floor in her haste. She feels a little less overwhelmingly exposed under the cover of the water, despite the fact that her breasts are still very clearly visible - judging by the way that Lucifer's eyes linger below her throat. But he's not making any moves towards her, or attempting to turn this into something more than it is, and so she relaxes too, allowing her head to loll back against the lip of the tub. She enjoys a few moments of peace before Lucifer again breaks their silence.
"I believe this is the part where I casually reassure you that I won't bite - even though I certainly would - before inviting you to come closer."
And Chloe has to laugh at the wolfish grin that accompanies his request. Normally she'd think up some clever response to refuse his offer, but this time she decides to simply play along. His grin grows even wider as she slips over nearer to him. She can't help but poke fun at the expression.
"My, what big teeth you have…"
"All the better to eat you with, my dear." She huffs out a laugh at his answer. This is certainly a very different version of The Little Red Riding Hood than she remembers. She's really hoping she won't end up blushing the next time she's confronted with Grimm's Fairy Tales.
When Chloe finally reaches him, she twists around until she can press her back carefully into his chest, curling contentedly into his frame and allowing their legs to tangle together. She can feel him half-hard against her lower back, but there's no urgency to it.
"Isn't this the part where you remark on the largeness of the rest of my anatomy?" He prompts teasingly, unable to resist continuing their little game.
"My, what a big ego you have…" She taunts back, but he just chuckles at her response.
They fall into a comfortable silence after that, Chloe running her fingers carefully along the parts of Lucifer that she can reach. He hums contentedly behind her, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to the side of her neck, but going no further. The exhaustion of the past couple days seems to catch up with them both, and by the time they notice the water has cooled they're both nearly half asleep.
"I know it's not quite dark yet, but you should really get some rest." She offers again, and this time he doesn't argue with her suggestion. She leaves the comforts of the tub first, wrapping herself in a towel before helping Lucifer to stand so she can dry him off. She then helps him to slip on a pair of soft boxer-briefs retrieved from his room before leading him back to his bed. He even submits to her her tucking him under the blankets.
"You deserve some rest too, Detective." He offers up lazily, already settling back into the many pillows behind him.
"I'll get some when I get home, I…" She assures before he quickly interrupts.
"I meant with me. Plenty of room here as well." He glances toward the unoccupied side of the bed. And it's kind of a big step, sleeping over when they haven't even slept together, but the unpleasant thought of going home to an empty house and sleeping alone after everything else makes the decision for her. She returns to the bathroom, slipping on her underwear and Lucifer's discarded shirt before toweling off the damp ends of her hair, taking a moment to herself to reaffirm that she's making the right decision.
The whole situation feels very post-coital - bathing here, wearing his clothes, her bare legs on display as she gets ready for bed. It actually sort of fits in a strange way, keeping with the way they've done this whole relationship thing completely backwards. But Lucifer has never been one to go about things in the normal fashion, and she realizes she wouldn't have it any other way.
Lucifer's surprise at her easy acceptance is pretty apparent when she returns to the bedroom wearing nothing but his shirt, and he grants her another one of those smiles that she's begun to think of as her own. She slips easily beneath the covers, curling into his side. His arm moves naturally around her shoulders, his bandaged hand resting carefully against her. Their bodies shift into place like this is what they were made for, and its a dizzying sensation though at the same time she's never felt more at ease. Thoughts of Lucifer and fate flit through her head and she gradually drifts off to sleep within his arms.