Lucifer walked through the doors of the precinct, a smile plastered to his face as he greeted people that recognized him. It was just after lunch and he had a bounce to his step after spending the morning catching up on some much needed sleep.

By the time he and Eric had returned from Louisiana, they'd had just enough time for a quick drink—specifically a quick drink for Eric—before the vampire had retired to his makeshift bedroom in the offices of the North Star Agency. Lucifer had been relieved that he had even been able to give his vampire lover sustenance. It seemed his own worry for Chloe had dissipated somewhere between leaving Fangtasia and arriving at Lux. It had been wonderful, knowing that his love for Eric was overpowering his emotional ties to the homicide detective.

But now Eric was safely tucked away for the day and Lucifer was intent on furthering their investigate during daylight hours. And what better way to do that than by confronting Pierce at his place of work? The fact that Ella was here and potentially had information for him just sweetened the deal.

Of course, there was the matter of Chloe.

It seemed Lucifer was in luck, however. As he made his way down the stairs and toward the bullpen, he didn't see Chloe at her desk. Or anywhere else for that matter. The Detective was missing and it was going to make his day that much easier.

He walked past the lab, peeking through the windows to see Ella inside staring through a microscope. He didn't stop to chat though—he'd save that conversation for later. What he wanted to do right this minute was march into Pierce's office and demand what he knew about the missing halflings. The cursed human had a lot he was hiding it seemed, and Lucifer wanted to know everything.

Eric had managed to ID the smell of the mysterious green algae, and it was linked to none other than the man who had stolen the Detective from Lucifer. The news had bothered Lucifer so much he hadn't been able to be vulnerable for the man he loved. It didn't matter that his problem of vulnerability had faded away given enough time. What mattered was the fact that Pierce was a damn thorn in his side, even still.

What remained to be seen was whether he was the antagonist in Lucifer's story, or simply a bystander.

It had taken him a lot longer to get here than he'd intended. The foggy, rainy weather Los Angeles had been blanketed in when he first left had stayed. The fog seemed to have settled, affecting visibility all through the city and reminding Lucifer of the coastal towns of New England, not the sandy, sunny place he'd called home these last few years.

The fact that this wasn't just a Los Angeles problem, but rather a country-wide problem was not lost on him. But it had dampened his enjoyment of driving around in his gorgeous Corvette. Whether it was Pierce doing it or his father, he was adamant he'd get to the bottom of this and fix everything, from missing waitresses to the lack of prime beach weather. This was not the sort of mystery he had imagined himself solving when he and Eric had decided to open their detective agency. He'd been picturing simple crimes against supernatural folks, not potential apocalypses.

Pierce's office door was closed when Lucifer arrived in front of it, but a closed door never stopped him before. Feeling bold, bolstered by the warm welcome he'd received the moment he'd walked into the precinct, he threw the door wide and strode into the office like he owned the place. Pierce glanced up from his computer, an annoyed look on his face. For a moment, Lucifer's good mood faltered—Pierce wasn't supposed to be annoyed, he was supposed to be surprised, or perhaps worried that Lucifer was barging in like this. Lucifer had quit, after all. His appearance was supposed to be unexpected.

There needed to be more indignation, damn it.

"Lucifer," Pierce said, a calculated look on his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Been having a spot of bad weather lately, haven't we?" Lucifer asked, deciding if Pierce wasn't going to act surprised, then he wasn't going to act disappointed in said lack of surprise. He settled himself into one of the chairs across from Pierce's desk, making the immortal man frown at him in disapproval.

"Has the cloud-cover been stopping your twenty-four hour orgies, Lucifer?" Pierce asked. "Did you come here to ask me to arrest the fog?"

"No," Lucifer drawled, gathering his thoughts. "But I thought perhaps you might know something about it, and why it isn't lifting."

"Why, Lucifer, would I know anything about weather patterns?" Pierce asked, attention flickering between the devil and his computer screen. "I'm a homicide lieutenant, not a meteorologist."

Lucifer snorted. "We all know you're more than just a homicide lieutenant, Cain."

"I'm not certain what that has to do with anything," Pierce replied, his eyes shifting to the open door that led back out into the bullpen.

"I have it on good authority that everything happening right now seems to be linked to you."

The surprise on Pierce's face seemed genuine enough, which made Lucifer wonder if the man actually didn't know anything. "What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, finally giving Lucifer his full attention. "What do you think is happening right now, besides some bad weather?"

"Do you not know?" Lucifer asked, his turn to be surprised. "The weather isn't just a problem here in California, Lieutenant. It's all across the continent. And it's not just the weather, either."

"It's not?" Pierce asked, leaning back in his chair to cross his muscular arms over his chest.

Lucifer shook his head, eager to put all the blame on Pierce. "Of course not. But you know that. You know there are halflings missing. And werewolves getting sick and dying."

Pierce suddenly sat up straight, alarm in his eyes. "Halflings?" he asked. "What do you know about halflings?"

Lucifer paused at that. The reaction was immediate and intense. Pierce did know about the halflings but he didn't know they were being kidnapped. How interesting. "People who are part fairy," Lucifer clarified. He narrowed his eyes. "They're going missing."

"They are?" Pierce asked, eyebrows high. Not what are fairies or what have you been smoking.

Damn it all to Hell.

Still, the man must know something, even if he wasn't the one stealing people. "What would you know about it, Pierce?" Lucifer asked, crossing one leg over another and staring at the other man.

"Nothing," Pierce replied quickly. "I don't know anything about halflings going missing." He suddenly leaned forward in his chair, forearms hitting the desk as he leaned toward Lucifer. "You know this for a fact?"

Lucifer nodded, steepling his fingers in front of him as he tried to mask his unease at Pierce's acceptance of everything. You'd think he'd pretend he knew nothing about fairies. This meant Pierce had spent the last few millennia knowing secrets that even Lucifer hadn't been privy to. It rubbed Lucifer the wrong way—but perhaps it was yet another thing that Dad had simply forgotten to divulge to his least favourite son. But if Pierce didn't know that Lucifer was only just learning about the fae and halflings, then perhaps he could gleam some information from the man. He might not be involved but he was linked somehow. "I've got two confirmed disappearances, from different parts of the country." He paused. "Tell me, Pierce, why is it my vampire says you smell like a fairy gone bad?"

"He can smell fairies?" Pierce asked, the fact causing him to sit back in worry. "Is that why . . ."

"He threw you halfway across the lobby last month?" Lucifer finished for him. Pierce seemed to muse at that admission. "He says you smell like a rancid fairy," Lucifer continued. "And I suppose he should know what a fairy smells like. He's eaten at least one, been with a halfling, too."

"Interesting," Pierce said, a hand going up to rub his chin. "I wonder if all vampires can tell what I am."

"I can guarantee they can all smell you're special. But most of them won't know why." Lucifer sat silent, thinking. Pierce did too. When it was clear he wasn't going to divulge anything else without prodding, Lucifer decided to keep the conversation going. Pierce was talking, at least. Lucifer might as well use that to his advantage. "Why would you, the first sinner, smell like a fairy?"

Pierce levelled his dark blue gaze at Lucifer, seeming to think for a moment. "Lucifer, you know what happened . . . back then." Pierce was referring to when he'd been cursed. The day he'd murdered his own brother and become the world's first sinner.

"Indeed, of course I do," Lucifer replied immediately. How could he not?

"Well, it wasn't quite as simple as your father cursing me to spend eternity roaming the earth," Pierce said. "Your dad might be the Almighty, but there are only so many things he can do without asking for help from someone else."

Well, Pierce wasn't entirely wrong there. And Lucifer did know there were other gods that existed—although some were long gone by now. Hell, even his own mother was a goddess in her own right. The idea that his father had gone to another god to curse Pierce wasn't that unlikely. In fact, it made a lot of sense. Vampires not having their souls was entirely because Dad and some other deity decided to get together and conduct bloody social experiments, after all. He was about to say just that when there was the scuff of a bootheel at the open door.

"Who the Hell do you think you are, just waltzing in here like you own the place?"

Lucifer's words died on his lips, relief coursing through him that he hadn't said a damn thing about vampires and gods. Turning in his seat, he met the angry glare of Detective Chloe Decker, his ex-love—but not ex-lover, no . . . never that. She was not happy to see him. She would have been even more upset if he'd been talking about immortal beings, because she would automatically assume he was telling tall tales.

Of all the people in his life, her disbelief always hurt the most.

"Well?" Chloe asked, folding her arms over her chest to appear domineering and disappointed, all at once. "What makes you think we even want you here?"

"Well, I—" Lucifer glanced at Pierce, at a loss. For once, the two men had been having a decent conversation. Pierce had been giving him information. Pierce had been helpful, for crying out loud. And none of this had to do with a homicide case. So far, anyway.

So why the attitude from his beloved Detective?

Was it because his leaving had hurt her, perhaps? He narrowed his eyes at her. "Miss my presence in the precinct, Detective?"

Chloe's eyes widened in a mild panic before she scoffed like he'd said something stupid. "No. Not at all. We've been doing plenty fine without you here to break protocol and disrupt crime scenes."

"Well, fret not, Detective. I'm not here to do so. I've simply come to ask Pierce a few questions about a personal matter."

Chloe raised her eyebrows in false surprise. "What kind of personal matters?"

Lucifer frowned. "The personal kind."

A few seconds dragged by, no one speaking. And then Chloe threw up her hands, as if she'd had enough of Lucifer and his shenanigans. Not that this was a new behaviour on her part. Hardly. "You know, Lucifer. You can't just quit the way you did and then expect to be welcomed back with open arms. You can't just walk in here like you own the place."

Lucifer was at a loss, glancing between Chloe and Pierce, wondering where this was coming from. She had kicked him off the last case they'd worked. And before that, she always made it out to be like he was a nuisance. Something to be put up with.

"I'm not asking to be welcomed back," Lucifer told her, cocking his head to one side as he assessed her. She was upset. Clearly. "As I've said, I'm here to speak to Lieutenant Pierce personally. This has nothing to do with you."

"Really?" Chloe shot back, narrowing her eyes at him. "If it's so personal, why didn't you just call him?"

Lucifer sighed. "Detective, what seems to be the problem?"

"Problem?" Chloe asked, and Lucifer was nearly certain she was about to blow a gasket—or smack him a good one. Her emotional reaction to seeing him was giving him anxiety. "What's the problem, Lucifer? You abandoned us. You decided you were bored with the L.A.P.D. and opened your own little detective agency, as if we had been nothing but a stepping stone in your life."

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was pretty sure she was using the precinct in replacement of talking about herself. She was upset about his decisions. And boy, was this an eye-opening revelation about her.

"You . . ." Chloe trailed off from her tirade, looking inward at her own thoughts and feelings. "You replaced us with some pretty blonde vampire who you've known for barely even a month!"

"It's been more than two," Lucifer was quick to correct her.

Chloe closed her hands into fists as she glared at him. "Not. The. Point."

"I didn't replace anyone," Lucifer continued, his own emotions mixing in his chest to make his heart ache. She thought he was replacing her? When she had continuously turned him away and then chose to be with Pierce? "Why need me, Detective, when you've got the Lieutenant, after all? I was simply finding a place where I was wanted and needed."

Lucifer stood, fear about his own emotions and what they might mean, convincing him it was time to flee. Before he did or said something he'd regret. "If that's how you feel, Detective—that I've abandoned you; that I am no longer welcome here for having the gall to make a place for myself where I am always accepted—then perhaps it is, indeed, time for me to leave."

He gave a huff as he straightened his sleeves. Why did Chloe Decker's words always hurt so damn much? He shouldn't be feeling this way. Indignant, perhaps—but this sort of distress? He hated that perhaps Chloe was quite possibly more of a problem in his relationship than Sookie. He shouldn't be feeling this way! He was in love with his vampire, Dad damn it all. He loved Eric, not Chloe!

Chloe was standing in the way though, taking up the doorway and ruining his intention of a quick getaway—from his colleagues at the precinct and from his emotional hangups. Glaring at him like he was the one who had replaced her, when in reality she'd been the one to choose Marcus Pierce over him. He bristled at the thought, remembering that the man behind the desk was the enemy—or something like that. The lines had become blurred at some point.

When Chloe seemed in no mood to get out of Lucifer's way, he decided the best way to get out of here was to simply keep talking. "Eric Northman is not just a pretty blonde, as you so put it," he said, channeling his hurt emotions into standing up for the one thing he did know. "He is a man with more history than you can imagine and he accepts me for me." He narrowed his eyes at Chloe. "He does not roll his eyes at me. He does not lose his patience with me. And he believes me when I say something, always takes me at my word. I am not a nuisance to him, and we are on equal footing when we are together, Detective." He folded his own arms over his chest, mimicking her closed off body language. "Which is more than I can say for how I'm treated as a consultant for the L.A.P.D."

"Lucifer," coaxed Pierce from behind the desk, but Lucifer wasn't in the mood to be coddled. He wanted out of the precinct. Now.

"Excuse me, Detective. Since I'm not welcome here, I'd just as soon leave. If you don't mind." He glowered at her until she finally moved from the doorway.

As he moved past her though, she shot a hand out, laying it on his arm. When he looked down at her—he never had to look down to look into Eric's eyes—there was a hurt expression on her face. "Lucifer," she said his name and alarm bells went off in Lucifer's head.

He knew she was about to tell him she missed him. Perhaps somewhere in her next words, there'd be an admission that he actually was special to her, and he couldn't bear the idea of hearing it. She had chosen her path in life and it hadn't been with him, and he was desperate to keep them both going in the two directions they'd ended up choosing. "No, Detective," he told her, his voice surprisingly soft considering what was going on inside his chest. "You made your choice and so have I."

He extricated his arm from her grip, turned, and nearly fled the precinct. He ignored every single person who tried to say hello to him. He didn't even stop to grab Ella to find out what she knew. He didn't have the emotional fortitude to pretend like everything fine.

Everything was not fine.

The Detective was mad at him for leaving her—but he'd never even been hers from the start.

Why did this bloody matter to him? Why was his heart trying to break through his chest? Why, why indeed. He had a vampire lover back home and he was falling apart over the damn Detective?

What was wrong with him?