Chapter Text
“So I ask you, the Devil. What do you...truly desire?”
Following the disastrous dinner Lucifer arranged for himself and Chloe, he’s been left wallowing in his mistakes—until his therapist came charging in far too late. As ever, Linda has challenged him to be completely honest when it comes to the Detective, and when he attempted more of what she considers excuses, she blew them all out of the water.
“Don’t you see? You’re doing the same thing as Him now. By not telling Chloe the truth, you’re taking her choice away. The truth is, no one really knows what your dad’s responsible for. We’re all just guessing. Even you. But do you know the one thing He can’t control? What you do in this moment, right now.”
And she’s right.
All this time, Lucifer has been guessing what it means for Chloe to be a miracle. Guessing that it means she has no control over her feelings for him. And by making all those guesses, those assumptions, he’s made the decision to keep Chloe at arm’s length, but close enough that his fingers still brush her occasionally. He knows that’s what Chloe meant earlier when she said he can’t have it both ways.
What’s the phrase? Have your cake and eat it too?
Nobody has ever asked him what he truly desires, but he doesn’t flounder for the answer like he thought he might; he’s known for some time that there is only one thing he wants. Something he’s barely admitted to himself let alone anybody else. It’s the thing that hurts most to think about, yet not always in a painful way. It’s terrifying and amazing, and it’s about time he said it aloud.
“I want her to choose me,” he says softly, his eyes stinging.
Linda smiles as if she knew the answer all along. Knowing her, she probably did; she has a tendency to know things about him even he doesn't know. “Then tell her,” she advises gently.
Lucifer takes a deep, trembling breath and nods. It’s what he should have done earlier over dinner. Instead of trying yet again to show up Pierce, he should have told Chloe everything.
That every thought he has involves her in some way. Everything he does or has done is for her. That she is the only person he has ever truly desired, and that he wants everything with her. Game nights and movie nights. Taking her out to all the places she would never go otherwise; showing her things she never thought she’d see. Cooking dinner with her at night, then breakfast for her in the morning.
He wants them to lose themselves in each other and fall asleep in her arms. For them to go to work together and solve cases, then go home together too. Every good, bad, boring moment there is to be had—he wants it with her.
“Yes,” he breathes to Linda, already reaching for his suit jacket. “Yes.”
He’ll go to Chloe now, beg her forgiveness for hurting her yet again, and tell her the truth. Even if it goes sour, even if she wants nothing more to do with him this time, at least he’ll have tried. At least she’ll know and will have been given the choice.
Squeezing Linda’s shoulder in gratitude as he passes her on the way to the elevator, Lucifer’s heart is racing in anticipation and nerves. Quite frankly, at this point, he’ll be lucky if Chloe doesn’t just slam the door on him. Her tear-stained face swims behind his eyes again, and his heart aches. He must find a way to fix this; he can’t lose her—not after everything they’ve been through.
Deciding time is of the essence, Lucifer flew to Chloe’s apartment on the wings he’s avoided using for months. If ever there is a moment to rush, it’s now. Besides, he was afraid that if he drove here, he’d lose his nerve again.
Having said that, he’s never felt more nervous about anything before. He’s about to pour his heart out to the person who matters most to him in the universe, and he has no idea how she will react to what he has to say.
Did he push her too far away this time? Make her cry one time too many? Has he pushed her back into Pierce’s orbit?
The last question has him quickening his steps to her apartment door where, for the first time, he hesitates to knock.
What if she doesn’t want to see him? What will he do then? The two years they’ve been partners are a blink of the eye in his lifespan, but he can’t imagine going back to a life where he doesn’t see her every day.
He doesn’t want to.
Then tell her... Doctor Linda’s voice echoes in his mind.
Steeling his nerves and taking a deep breath, he knocks softly, then takes a step back to avoid crowding her when she opens the door. If she opens the door. It takes a minute, but then he hears shuffling from inside growing closer and the outside light switches on above him. He can almost feel her hesitation and it hurts all the more.
After what feels like an hour, but is probably less than a minute, he hears the locks on the door being undone and it slowly opens, revealing Chloe Decker. She’s wearing the same thing she was the last time he saw her; he wonders if she’s only just gotten home.
But it’s her expression that has his attention: She doesn’t look overly pleased to see him, but she also isn’t telling him to leave, or just slamming the door in his face. That must be a good sign, right?
Otherwise, her expression is inscrutable if expectant.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he tries to give her a small smile. “Hello, Detective.”
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
His heart in his throat, he tries to swallow around it. “I was hoping that we could talk.”
She sighs, looking away. He thinks he sees hurt swim in her eyes before she does, though, until she pushes it back. “Lucifer, I’m really not in the mood right now for...whatever this is. I think you said enough tonight, don’t you?”
Lucifer flinches a little. “Yes, and that is why I’m here, Detective. I understand that you’re upset with me and I don’t blame you in the slightest for that—I’m upset with me. All I’m asking is that you give me five minutes of your time, then if you so wish, I shall never bother you again.”
Chloe pinches the skin at the bridge of her nose. “Lucifer...”
“Please, Chloe,” he murmurs.
She looks up at the sound of her name on his lips. Filling his expression with all the remorse he feels, hoping to convey how very contrite he is, he tilts his head. “Please. Five minutes.”
She searches his gaze for a few seconds, biting her lip. Her shoulders drop. “Okay. Five minutes.”
Swallowing a sigh of relief, he smiles his gratitude and gestures inside the apartment. “May I?”
Taking a step back, she opens the door enough for him to enter, closing it behind her. Now that he’s here, the speech he had planned is instantly forgotten. The only thing in his mind are the memories of the times he’s been here for game nights or dinners or working cases. Or the morning Chloe made her father’s egg sandwiches, when she hugged him and he felt himself falling even further for her.
She crosses her arms as if she's cold—or protecting herself from further hurt—and watches him expectantly, her eyebrows rising. “Well?”
There are a thousand things he wants to say to her now that he has her undivided attention, and he’s afraid that even one of them will push her away for good. But Linda was right—he needs to give her a choice.
So he starts with the most basic: “I’m sorry, Detective,” he says softly.
Her eyes widen slightly, then her eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I’m so terribly sorry,” he elaborates. “When I asked you over for dinner this evening...it—it wasn’t supposed to go the way it did.”
She scoffs. “Why? Because you thought I’d be happy to know you were playing more games with me?”
Ouch.
“No. Because I had intended to tell you something entirely different, but when the moment came, I...well. As Doctor Linda once so succinctly put it, I chickened out. And instead of being honest, I hurt you again, which is something I never want to do and yet, all I seem capable of these days.”
He pauses, gauging her reaction so far. The curtain over her eyes, hiding what she’s really feeling, has lifted just a smidge—enough that he can see her softening a little, but not nearly enough that he’s forgiven.
He continues. “I royally screwed up tonight, I know that, and although you’ve given me at least a dozen chances, I hope you have enough grace left for me that you’ll give me just one more.”
“Why?” she asks, incredulous. “You said it yourself, Lucifer, I’ve given you so many chances, and every time, you just—” She cuts herself off, pressing her lips together so tightly they turn white. Her eyes water. “Why is this time any different?”
Lucifer’s heart squeezes like it’s in a vise at the sight of her pain. Pain he caused. He truly is a monster for doing this to her over and over again. “Because this time, I intend to be completely honest with you, Detective. To give you the choice I should have given you long ago. The choice you deserve.”
“Maybe you should just...let me go, Lucifer. Let me live my life and be happy,” she says, defeated. And utterly unhappy-looking.
“I can’t,” he says apologetically.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to, Detective.”
“So, what? You want me to be miserable all the time?” she demands heatedly.
“No,” he says, aghast. “I never want you to be miserable. I only want your happiness. I can’t let you go because you are the most important person in my world. Because I’ve never felt for anybody the way I feel for you. It has nothing to do with Pierce and everything to do with you, Chloe. I wanted you long before he came into the picture, and I will want you long after you’re gone from my life.”
She freezes, her lips parted as she stares at him. The curtain lifts a little further and there’s a softness in her eyes he saw only a few hours ago—just before he hurt her again.
“Want me for what? In bed?”
“No! Well...yes, but not only that,” he hastily amends. “I want anything you would be willing to give me, Detective, for however long you’re willing to give it. Game nights with the Urchin and face painting and karaoke. Beach days and movie nights. Evenings were I take you to the finest restaurants or concerts or wherever you may desire to go. Or just sitting here with a pizza watching telly. I want to cook for you and with you, and yes, for us to wrap ourselves around one another as I pleasure you in ways you’ve never imagined.”
He cracks a small smile. “I want to hold you as you fall asleep, snoring like a chainsaw in my ear.” He swears her lip twitches briefly. “PTA meetings and school chorus concerts and ice cream afterwards. I want every piece of you, every imperfection, every moment—good and bad. Anything and everything. But most of all, Chloe, I want...”
Chloe actually takes a step towards him, her eyes bright and her hands dropped to her sides. “What?” she whispers.
Lucifer gives her a small smile, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair that’s fallen from her ponytail and tucking it behind her ear. Her eyelids flutter at the touch and she leans slightly into his hand. “Most of all,” he says softly, his heart racing, “I want—”
His words are cut off by a pounding on the door that makes them both jump.
Of course he’s interrupted now. Lucifer shoots a glare towards the ceiling, certain his father is behind the ill-fated timing.
“Sorry. I should, um, see who that is,” Chloe says reluctantly, not taking her eyes from his face. “Hopefully, it’s just a neighbor or something,” she adds under her breath. “Stay, please?”
Well, he’s come this far, he may as well take it over the finish line.
“Yes, of course. I’ll just...” He gestures towards the living room and the couch. “Shall I?”
Chloe nods, relieved. As he passes her, she intentionally reaches out to brush her fingers along his, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he feels a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm. Glancing at her, he finds her lips have parted and her eyes widened. She gives him a small smile, a shadow of the soft one she used to give him; the one he’s longed to see again for months.
“I won’t be long,” she promises, her voice breathy.
Nodding, he continues to the couch, sitting down and attempting to get a hold of himself. With half an ear, he listens as she opens the door and there’s silence for a moment, followed by a familiar voice. One he decidedly does not wish to hear right now—or ever again for that matter.
Of course old Ham Hands has decided to interrupt her evening, he thinks scathingly, not reminding himself that he also interrupted her evening.
“I’m sorry for just stopping by. But when you didn’t make dinner—”
Chloe sucks in a breath. “No, I... It’s—I’m sorry.”
Lucifer feels his heart drop into his stomach. She’s sorry? Does that mean she’s...pleased to see him? Holding his breath, he continues to listen.
“This case has, you know, been...”
“It’s okay. I can say what I need to say here, now.”
“Um, Marcus, this—this really isn’t a good time,” Chloe says hastily.
Lucifer gets to his feet slowly as he sees Pierce push past her into the apartment. The Neanderthal doesn’t even notice him, only having eyes for the Detective. Chloe slowly closes the door and moves to stand between the two men, as if she’s expecting there to be a fight.
But Lucifer is tired of fighting. The only fighting he wants to do anymore is for the Detective.
“This won’t take long, Chloe, I promise.”
“Okay, but...” Chloe trails off when Pierce spins towards her, still not spotting the Devil watching expressionlessly. Her eyes dart to him apologetically. His lips twitch into a semblance of a smile. It certainly isn’t her fault.
“For days,” Pierce goes on, completely ignoring Chloe’s protests, “I’ve been thinking about how I screwed up. I tried to figure out how to make things better. When you find that person who gives life meaning...Chloe, nothing else matters.”
Well, this is a first. Lucifer actually agrees with the Cro-Magnon twatwaffle on that point.
He watches Chloe’s reaction to this. She doesn’t seem to know what to do, her eyes looking between Pierce and Lucifer. The Devil feels that first crack in his heart that tells him it’s all about to go pear-shaped again. He wasted too much time wallowing in his own self-pity when he could have been here talking to the Detective. He could have said what he needed to say to her without Pierce’s interference.
Lucifer wonders if his father is up in the Silver City laughing His divine arse off. The worst part is, he can’t tell if Chloe is at all moved by the speech. Perhaps he’s made a mistake in coming here at all. Well, really, the mistake was not having the nerve to be honest when he had the chance. For making her think for one bloody second that he doesn’t desire every part of her with every part of his being.
Then her eyes drift to him and linger. There’s emotion there he can’t read. Is he intruding on a private moment? Is that the problem? She wants him gone and doesn’t know how to tell him?
Pierce is still talking. “I know you don’t trust me. I know I’ve made mistakes. I’ve made an eternity’s worth of mistakes—”
Well, that’s the bloody truth...
“—But please, let me spend the rest of my days making it up to you.”
“What? Marcus, maybe we should talk about this another time.”
“No, Chloe, it has to be now. I know I can make you happy—”
The words are out of Lucifer’s mouth before he can stop himself. “Can he?” he asks softly, looking directly at Chloe.
Pierce stiffens, turning to find Lucifer standing there. “What is he doing here?” he asks, his voice gone from conciliatory to ice cold in a heartbeat.
“I tried to tell you—I have company right now.”
Pierce’s jaw tenses as he glares at Lucifer. “Get out.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer scoffs.
“You need to leave.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow, hands in his pockets. “Uh, unless I’m mistaken, you’re the intruder here.” He wants to throw out a handful of insults on top of it, but he’s already on thin ice with Chloe, and he isn’t about to make things worse for himself.
Turning to the Detective, Pierce takes a step closer to her. “Why is he here?” he demands in a low voice.
Every muscle in Lucifer’s body tenses as he looks on, wanting to jump between them, to drag Pierce away from her. Chloe doesn’t need him to fight her battles, but he has no problem backing her up if need be.
For now, he remains in place.
“He...came over to talk after the case,” Chloe explains, glancing at Lucifer. “Look, there’s a lot going on right now, and I just—”
“You’re choosing him?” Pierce asks her through gritted teeth.
Chloe’s eyebrows furrow as she takes a step back from Pierce. As if she suddenly doesn't recognize him. The noose around Lucifer’s heart loosens enough that it can beat again.
“We were just talking,” she says slowly, intently studying the Lieutenant. “And this is my home, Lucifer is my guest. The only person who decides whether he stays or goes is me.”
Lucifer’s lips twitch with pride in her for standing her ground.
“I don’t want you alone with him, Chloe,” Pierce says possessively, reaching for her hand.
“That isn’t your decision to make, Marcus,” she says firmly. “We’re broken up, remember? You told me I wasn’t worth it—”
“He said what?” Lucifer growls, glaring at Pierce. How dare he!
“And I apologized, all right?” Pierce continues, holding Chloe’s gaze. “I’m trying to make up for it now.”
Chloe shakes her head. “You didn’t apologize for that, actually.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” the idiot says quickly. “Let me prove it. If Lucifer wants to watch the show, then fine.” Pierce throws the Devil a smug look, then—to Chloe’s and Lucifer’s shock—he drops down to one knee, reaching into his pocket for something small and shiny.
A ring.
“What are you...doing...?” Chloe breathes, staring down at Pierce incredulously.
“Chloe Decker, will you marry me?”
Lucifer’s heart stops beating. His gaze snaps to the Detective, waiting for her answer, silently begging her not to choose Pierce.
“Marcus...” She sighs. “You can’t...make up for mistakes by...proposing.”
“That isn’t what this is. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, Chloe. We could be so happy together.”
Chloe looks completely stunned. Her gaze darts from Pierce to Lucifer and stays there. “I—”
“Does he make you happy, Detective? Is he who you truly desire?” Lucifer asks softly, taking a step towards her. His heart is beating again—racing so hard and loud in his ears, he’s certain she can hear it from ten feet away. “If the answer is yes, then I shall walk out this door and let you have your happiness. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“And yet, he’s constantly running away from you. Marrying strippers. Pushing you away. I’m here, Chloe,” Pierce says, determined. “I love you. And I know you love me too.”
Lucifer feels his heart break the longer Chloe doesn’t answer either of them. He meant it. If Pierce is truly who she desires, he’ll walk away. It will bloody kill him, but he’ll do it. Because her desires matter more than his own.
“It’s entirely your decision, Detective,” he says, already feeling as though he’s lost her.
She looks between the two men for a moment, looking overwhelmed. “I, um—” She sighs again. “Lucifer—” the Devil holds his breath,watching her with wide eyes— “could you...give us a second?”
And there it is.
Swallowing the lump of emotion that suddenly appeared in his throat and blinking back the wetness in his eyes, Lucifer nods. “As you wish, Detective,” he murmurs, hoping to keep the dejection from his voice. He spares a glance for Pierce, who looks triumphant.
“I’m not...asking you to leave,” Chloe says, apparently seeing something on Lucifer’s face. “Just, um, maybe...step outside?”
Eyebrows furrowed, Lucifer tries to read her expression. What, does she wish to show off the ring once she’s said yes? He doesn’t think he could bear it. Nevertheless, he’s a slave for...all of her, really.
“Of course,” he whispers, making his way out to the side patio.
Closing the door behind him, he wishes he’d brought his flask. Or his cigarettes. Alas, he drained his flask during his self-pity party and left his smokes on the bar.
Running a hand through his hair, then down his face, he wonders how long she’ll make him wait. Won’t they wish to...celebrate their engagement?
The breath feels as if it’s been punched out of him. Engagement. Chloe may be getting engaged to Cain right this very moment. Part of him wants to move to the window and see how things are progressing; the rest of him is screaming not to look. Yes, he desires her happiness, but not like this.
Not with him.
What will the future look like if she marries Pierce? He’ll undoubtedly push her to push Lucifer from her life. Which means no more friendship. Perhaps no more partnership. Surely she would wish to solve cases with her husband. Bile rises in Lucifer’s throat as he curls over the railing, his chest aches worse than anything he’s ever experienced.
He’s lost her. She’s given him a thousand chances and he blew every last one of them. Perhaps this is for the best. Breaking her heart every other month is not what he wants to do, and yet, it’s all he does. Breaks her heart, makes her cry. Poisons everything in her life. His father really knew the score when He named His son Samael, didn’t He?
Behind him, the door opens slowly. Lucifer makes a quick swipe at his wet eyes and straightens, turning towards her with a forced smile. It feels more like a grimace. She steps outside and closes the door again, leaning against it, her hands behind her back.
“Well, then. I suppose congratulations are in order,” he says quietly, unable to interject any cheer into the statement. Not when he’s breaking inside. Not when his heart is in tatters and he can feel his soul dimming. After all, she’s the one who brought light back into his world; it’s only fitting that when she leaves, she takes it with her.
Chloe’s eyebrows furrow. “Congratulations?” she repeats in the same tone.
Is she really going to make him spell it out?
“Yes,” he huffs, twisting his cufflinks and unable to look at her. Instead, he locks his gaze on her left ear. “On your engagement.”
Realization flashes in her eyes. She shakes her head. “I’m not engaged, Lucifer.”
He’s lost track of the number of times his heart has stopped or skipped a beat tonight. “You aren’t?” he breathes.
“No. I, um, I told Marcus I couldn’t marry him. I mean, he broke up with me and two days later he wants to marry me?” She makes an incredulous noise. “Not really how relationships work, you know?”
Actually, he doesn’t. But he does know the Detective. She is a thinker to the point of overthinking. She plans things meticulously, making lists for even the smallest of conundrums. Her relationship with Marcus Pierce has been accelerated, though Lucifer knows (and the Detective wouldn’t believe) that Pierce was using her to get rid of his immortality curse.
Is this still part of it? Pierce is mortal now; his mark is gone, Lucifer saw it with his own eyes. Or does Pierce truly love Chloe? It wouldn’t surprise Lucifer. How anybody could spend time with her and not fall in love is beyond him. He’s been gone for her from the moment they met.
But he doesn’t think she would be happy with Pierce. Lucifer can’t imagine the first murderer coming clean about both that and being the Sinnerman. And a life shrouded in secrecy is far less than Chloe deserves. Even Lucifer would have given her proof about his Devil-ness if they ever began a romantic relationship; taking her to bed without her knowing who she’s with would be a lie, and he can’t do that to her.
Clearly, Pierce had no such qualms.
“Right,” Lucifer murmurs, watching her closely.
What does he do now? What does he say? Does she still want to hear what he came over here to tell her or did Pierce push that off-course, too?
Biting her lip, Chloe pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards Lucifer. Her hands are in front of her now, fingers lacing together and separating, then repeating. A nervous gesture. “So, um...you were saying something before?” she says tentatively.
Lucifer blinks. “You...still wish to hear it?”
She shrugs. “Only if it’s something you want to tell me.”
He nods slowly. “Right...well. Where was I?” He meets her eyes again—dark blue and curious. And hopeful.
“Something about what you want most of all?” she prompts.
“Of course,” he says quickly, wiping sweaty palms against his trousers as he pushes all thoughts of Pierce from his mind. “Well, I was saying that what I want most of all, Detective...” He takes a deep breath, smiling softly. The smile he’s only ever felt the desire to give her. This is his moment of truth.
“What I truly desire...is for you to choose me.”
For a few moments, silence reigns. Neither of them moves or speaks. They simply stare at each other. Lucifer holds his breath, his heart entirely in her hands now to do with as she sees fit. Will she treasure it? Or will she stomp on it with her sensible black boots? Whatever the response, he will abide by it. If Chloe sends him away now, he’ll go and never bother her again. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself, though.
Will it also be the end of their work partnership? Lucifer has come to rely on seeing her day in and day out, solving cases, and giving bad guys their due punishment. And getting justice for their victims’ families. He enjoys the routine—examining evidence, trading theories, chasing leads, questioning suspects. He likes annoying Daniel and spending time with Miss Lopez.
But most of all, he enjoys being with Chloe. Seeing the way her clever mind works, and that look in her eye when a new theory occurs to her and the hunt is on. Arguing over radio stations in the car or bantering about everything and nothing. He likes the way she stands taller when she succeeds, and encouraging her when she doubts herself. The way her eyes light up when she laughs and the way she smiles at him sometimes—used to smile at him sometimes. He likes the pride she has in her work, herself, and her daughter.
He likes that she seems to see the good in him. Good that even he himself can’t see oftentimes. She’s always seen past his defenses to what hides beneath the charming, partying playboy. Chloe Decker is the only person in the universe who has ever believed in him; believed that he could be more, better than he ever thought he could be. For that, he wants to give her the world; every desire she may have.
If she’ll allow him, that is.
She has still yet to say anything. He wonders if silence is answer enough in this case.
In fact, the longer her silence lengthens, the dimmer the flames of hope in his heart become. The chest ache is back, worse than ever, and it's accompanied by rejection.
“I see,” he murmurs, averting his gaze from her. “Heard and understood, Detective.”
“How long?” she finally says.
Lucifer blinks at her. “Sorry?”
Chloe takes a step closer, her fingers braiding around one another. Her eyes are alight with something he can’t identify. “For how long will you...want me?”
The breath is punched from his chest at the question. Does she truly think he’ll just—what? Get bored one day and throw her away? Yes, his track record isn’t on his side here. The number of times he’s pulled her close only to push her away again is too high. But everything he’s done, he’s done it for her. In the name of her happiness. Has he been horribly wrong about some things? Undoubtedly. If he were to be given the chance to prove himself to her, however...
“How long will you allow me?” he counters softly.
She shakes her head. “I’m serious, Lucifer. I can’t—” She looks away briefly, blinking rapidly. “I can’t keep doing this with you. I need to know that if I leap, you’ll be there to catch me.”
“Always, Chloe,” he says earnestly, taking a step closer to her this time. “I’ll always catch you. Pierce isn’t the only one who’s made mistakes; I’ve made infinitely more, with you specifically. At the time, I believed I was doing right by you. And—” He takes a deep breath. “Well. If we’re being completely honest, I’ve been...afraid.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Of what?” she whispers, searching his gaze for the answer.
“Of how I feel about you. And of how you will react to the truth about me. There is so much you don’t know, Detective, so much you don’t believe. I want to show you, to be completely honest with you and give you the choice to stay or go—”
Unbidden, the memory of the two of them dancing in Lux flashes through his mind. The smile on her face and the light in her eyes is something he’ll never forget, no matter how long he lives.
And another memory of their prom. The way she looked at him, hoping he would kiss her. And, oh, he wanted to, but he felt as if it would be taking advantage, because he didn’t know whether she had a choice or not.
“Well, if you’re giving me a choice—” Another step towards him. Lucifer can smell her shampoo, her perfume, and a scent that is unique to her. “—I choose stay.”
“But...you don’t know yet.”
Her hand lifts, resting on his chest. “Then tell me.”
“I’ve tried,” he murmurs, one of his hands covering hers over his rapidly beating heart. He smiles sadly. “So many times. I think we’re at a point now that it’s something I must show you, if you’re to truly believe me.”
She frowns up at him. “Show me what?”
“What I am. It’s bad, Detective. Monstrous, even—”
“Lucifer—”
“—and I can’t show you what you need to see, but there is a proof of sorts. I’ve only hesitated to show you because...well, they aren’t me.”
“If this is about what Pierce said...”
He shakes his head. “No. This has nothing to do with Marcus Pierce, Detective. He may not be good, but I am far, far worse.”
“I don’t believe that,” she says emphatically. “Lucifer, I know you.”
“You do,” he murmurs, lifting his hand to brush his fingers across her cheek. “You know me better than anyone, save Doctor Linda, but then, I pay her to dig deep—metaphorically, that is.”
He sighs, they’re getting off topic. “My point is, Detective, that there is another side of me that I fear you won’t like. And quite frankly, I’ve grown to like the way you look at me now—as if I could be something...good. Worthy.” Which reminds him about what Pierce apparently told Chloe about how she isn’t worth it. He’ll have to address that.
“You are good, Lucifer.”
I wish...
“Detective.” He shakes his head, smiling slightly as he holds her bemused gaze. “Chloe...” he sighs reverently. Her eyes sparkle when he says her name and he thinks there may have been a slight shiver not caused by a chill. “I am the Devil.”
Sadness, he thinks, flickers through her eyes, followed by that determined glint he sees during cases. She takes one final step until her chest is nearly brushing against his.
“No, you’re not,” she whispers, reaching up to cup his face. He can’t resist leaning into her palm, relishing in her touch, even as his heart squeezes painfully at her denial. “Not to me, Lucifer. I don’t see that in you.”
Lucifer has never wanted like this. Her. To believe she means what she says and will still mean it when he shows her the truth. That she could want him—love him. Because in this moment, he is certain that he does, without a shadow of a doubt, love her.
She stretches up and her lips brush against his. He sucks in a sharp breath. She tastes the same as she did that day on the beach—like everything he never knew he needed. Redemption. Hope. Freedom. Salvation. Her kiss brings to life parts of him he believed long since dead and buried in the bowels of Hell, and he never wants them to part.
Tentatively, his hand cradles her face and he kisses her back slowly, their lips moving together, then separating, and seeking one another again. Lucifer pulls her bottom lip between both of his and tugs gently. Her other hand finds his neck, fingers curling behind his head and toying with the little hairs there. It’s his turn to shiver.
Chloe hums and smiles as they bring the kiss to a close, pressing her forehead against his. He can’t help mirroring her smile; he’s never felt this light.
“I do choose you, Lucifer,” she murmurs softly, looking deeply into his eyes.
He gasps. “You... But Detective, I’ve not shown you—”
“Later,” she whispers. “We have time, yeah? For now...will you stay? With...me, I mean.”
Lucifer hesitates. He’s never hesitated when a woman asked him to stay the night. “I...”
“Just to sleep,” she adds quickly. “I’ve missed you. And I don’t want to let you go tonight.”
He never wants to let her go. “If that is what you desire,” he murmurs.
“But is it what you desire?”
He nods, smiling shyly. “Yes,” he breathes.
She presses her lips together against a smile, but her eyes have never looked so bright, so happy. Did he do that? Put that look in her eyes? How? Simply by agreeing to stay?
Pulling away from him, her hand slides down his arm, seeking his hand. She slips her fingers between his and tugs, leading him inside the apartment. Lucifer has a thousand questions. What happened with Pierce? What does this mean for himself and Chloe? If she’s asking him to stay, that must be a good sign. Right?
Chloe leaves him in the middle of the room briefly to lock up and shut off the lights, then she’s taking his hand again and leading him up the stairs to her bedroom. He’s only been in here once since she moved in—the night he came bursting in, demanding to know if she was aware that she’s a miracle...only to find her with a bloody nose and fear in her eyes.
“I, um, think I might have some of Dan’s old pajamas,” she says shyly, “assuming you’re not wearing, um...” Her eyes dart below his belt.
He can’t suppress his twitching lips. “Why, Detective, are you asking whether I’m wearing pants?” The blush on her face is answer enough; she nods, anyway, not meeting his gaze. “It just so happens that I am.”
“Oh. Right. Good.” She nods, looking a little flustered.
Lucifer grins. “You’re still adorable when you’re flustered.”
Chloe scoffs. “I’m not...I’m not...” She shakes her head. “I’m not flustered.”
“Liar,” he teases. It feels so bloody good to tease her again; it feels like eons since they were last lighthearted with each other. “I missed you too.”
She pauses in her dresser drawer search and looks over at him, expression softening. “Yeah?” she whispers.
He nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Yes. Very much.”
Lucifer didn’t know the meaning of loneliness until he met Chloe Decker and realized what he’s missed out on all his very long life. In the last few months, with the distance they’ve put between each other, it’s been even worse. Isolating, even. The thought of popping down to Lux and finding a willing body to spend a night with is...unappealing and has been for some time.
He wondered what was wrong with him at first, until Linda asked him why he didn’t want to take some random human to bed. His answer was that he only wants Chloe. Anytime he gets to a certain point with somebody else, her face pops into his mind and his arousal dwindles.
For the first time, he’s sending people home unsatisfied. The worst part is, he doesn’t care.
“Here.”
Blinking, he looks up to find the Detective standing in front of him with a stack of men’s pajamas. Although, ‘pajamas’ may be a generous term; it’s an old, faded, cotton t-shirt and what looks to be gym shorts.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow at her. “You can’t be serious.”
Chloe’s eyes are dancing with mischief and amusement. “Oh, I am so serious,” she says, through twitching lips. “It’s one night. You'll survive.”
“In Daniel’s cast-offs?” He scoffs, but takes the offered clothing.
She gives him a look and for some reason, it makes his heart soar. “Hey, I wore cast-offs from one of your overnight guests; at least with these, you can be sure they aren’t riddled with STDs.”
“Yes, but what if I develop a sudden addiction to pudding and hand-strengthening grips? Or worse, what if I start to dress like an off-brand Ken doll?”
Chloe snorts a laugh. Lucifer beams. He loves making her laugh. “Just put them on, Morningstar. It’s late and I’m exhausted.” As if to punctuate her statement, she lets out a large yawn.
His smile softens. “If you insist, Detective,” he says warmly. “But I shall hold you responsible if I walk into the precinct next week dressed in Douche Chic.”
As he disappears into the ensuite, he hears her quiet laughter and pride spreads throughout his body. He’s spent so long making her cry lately that he treasures moments like these. Once he’s changed, he looks into the mirror and curls his lip at the outfit. The shirt is too baggy, the shorts too long, and there’s a faint hint of eau de Douche on them.
Then he looks at his own face and pauses. He can’t recall the last time he looked so...content. Although he knows things are far from settled with him and Chloe, this feels like an enormous step forward for them. One he couldn’t imagine just a couple hours ago as he sat alone in his penthouse, drinking the champagne he was supposed to share with his Detective before he mucked it all up.
What’s more, he hasn’t lost her to Cain. He still can’t believe the troglodyte thought marriage was an acceptable way to fix things between him and Chloe. Even Lucifer could see that was the wrong move.
A random thought flickers in his mind: Chloe, with a ring on her finger. Only it isn’t Cain’s ring, but Lucifer’s. His heart beats a little quicker at that, not out of sheer bloody panic at the thought of marriage, but...longing. Is that something he actually desires? What about Chloe?
Well, there’s quite a long ways to go before we reach that. Assuming we do.
Still, the thought is...surprisingly attractive.
Shaking himself, he returns to Chloe’s bedroom and finds the woman herself already in bed wearing her own pajamas. She looks up from her fingers when she hears him and can’t hide her twitching lips as she looks him up and down. There’s a slight widening to her eyes that he doesn’t think is horror or amusement. The way she bites her lip slightly confirms it.
“See something you like, Detective?” he purrs, striking a ridiculous pose he knows will make her laugh. It does and that warm pride returns again. He leaves his neatly folded clothes, jacket, and shoes on a chair near the door.
“Just thinking you’d fit right in with the guys in the precinct gym,” she says casually.
Lucifer scoffs, staring at her in (mostly) mock offense. “You take that back, Detective! I’ve never had to work out a day in my life and I don’t intend to start now! The scent of body odor is bad enough in the precinct bullpen; I can’t imagine the horrors in an actual gym.” He shudders.
She raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve never had to work out?”
“Nope. I was created perfectly; no need to maintain any of this.” He runs a hand down his chest, noting that Chloe follows his progress—interesting.
“Well, lucky you,” she mutters, patting the empty side of the bed. “Are you going to stand there all night?”
There’s a strange feeling in his stomach, almost as if insects of some sort have taken up residence there and are flapping their wings to get out. Is he...nervous? To sleep in a bed beside a woman?
Well, this is new.
“I won’t bite,” Chloe teases gently.
Huffing a laugh at the absurdity of the entire evening, Lucifer slides into bed beside her, laying on his back with his hands folded over his stomach. He can feel Chloe’s eyes on him, but all he can do is stare at the ceiling. Until he feels her roll onto her side to face him. Turning his head, his breath catches in his throat. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, her eyes bright with a sparkle he hasn’t seen directed at him in far too long, and from close up, he could swear he’s staring at the stars. Not the ones he created, though; these are far more magnificent. He could stare into her eyes all night.
Feeling more awkward than he ever has in his life, Lucifer rolls onto his side as well, mirroring her, with his hands pillowing his face.
”Will you bite if I ask very nicely?” he murmurs teasingly.
She laughs softly. “Only if you’re lucky.”
”I shall keep that in mind, then.” Her smile dims just a little and her eyebrows furrow. “Detective? What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing, I just—I guess there’s a lot we haven’t, you know, talked about. You say you...wanted me to choose you. And it sounded like you want...a relationship?”
”As I said,” he murmurs, “anything you’re willing to give me. If that’s your friendship, or merely just work partners, then I shall happily take both or either.”
”I’m asking what you want, Lucifer,” she argues.
He takes a deep breath and thinks about all those boring, domestic fantasies he’s had recently, the dreams that, upon waking, leave him filled with a longing that is physically painful. “I want...everything,” he murmurs. “Everything I told you earlier and more. I want you, and only you, Detective. I want to make you happy, to never hurt you or make you cry again. And when I show you the truth...” Well, perhaps asking her to not be afraid of him is a bit too much. “I hope you won’t hate me.”
Chloe’s hand finds his cheek and his eyelids flutter shut of their own accord. “I could never hate you. I want all of that, too, Lucifer, I’ve wanted it for a long time and I’ve wanted it with you. I didn’t think...”
”What?” he asks when she doesn’t continue.
”I didn’t think you wanted me.”
He stares at her open-mouthed. “I’ve always wanted you,” he says incredulously. “It’s only ever been you, Detective.”
Chloe bites her lip. “You...have an interesting way of showing it.”
His eyes close again, though for much less pleasurable reasons. “I know. And I’m sorry. I will explain everything to you, if you still wish to hear it once you’ve seen me. But suffice to say, I only ever wanted to protect you.”
”From what?”
”Me, mostly. I meant what I said over dinner. You deserve better—than me, than Pierce, than anybody, really.”
Chloe shakes her head. “Lucifer, listen to me. I’m not some...perfect, unattainable prize. You talk about what I deserve, but that isn’t up to you; it’s my call. I decide what I deserve and who is worthy of me.”
His brow furrows. “And you’ve decided that I’m...”
“Yes.” She scoots closer to him. “In my eyes, you’ve always been worthy.”
Lucifer has to look away from her lest she see the exact effect her words have on him. Opening old wounds and hurts he’s managed to super glue and wrap shut with duct tape. Unworthiness has been part of him from the moment his father instructed his twin brother to boot him from Heaven, and then, for eons, it was enforced by humans. And Amenadiel. He once told his mother that the only time he’s ever felt accepted or respected was here on Earth, but even that wasn’t entirely accurate; he didn’t start feeling those things until he met Chloe Decker.
It’s difficult to break habits of an eternity. As much as he wants to feel worthy and to be good—not only for her, but for himself too—there’s always a voice in the back of his mind reminding him that he’s the Devil and of all the wicked deeds he’s perpetrated. And then the voice asks him what he thinks Chloe will say if she learns about even a fraction of what he’s done.
Gentle fingers find his face and turn him back to her warm, understanding, compassionate expression. “I know who I want, Lucifer,” she murmurs. “It’s been you for a long time.”
But he doesn’t understand. She chose Pierce—though, thankfully, she came to her senses. He knows he pushed her towards the first murderer, but nevertheless, he’ll never forget the pain of listening to her tell him what a ‘good man’ Marcus is; to hear her nearly say that she loved him.
Chloe sees through that, too. “Do you know why I was with Marcus?”
“Dropped on your head as a child was my leading theory,” he jokes weakly.
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t take the bait. “Because I told myself I wanted one thing when in fact I wanted something else entirely. I told myself that I could be happy with him. That I could love him. If only I could get over what I feel for you. But the thing is...I wasn’t happy and I didn’t love him. Because I couldn’t get over what I feel for you.”
He suddenly has the urge to apologize for getting in the way of her happiness.
“Because...what I feel for you, Lucifer...it’s...” She shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “It’s unbelievably chaotic and frustrating, but it’s also...freeing. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”
His mouth falls open as he stares at her. She’s...describing precisely what he feels for her.
“And it isn’t something I can get over. I don’t want to get over it. So if you really want this, if you really want me, then I’m all in if you are. Because I think we could have something beautiful together. Something incredible.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he murmurs in amazement. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”
The smile she gives him sets his soul on fire. “Then we try?” she says hopefully, hand on face again. “And maybe it won’t work out, but we won’t know that unless we try, you know?”
“Okay,” he breathes, hardly able to believe this is happening. “I may not be any good at it, though, Detective,” he warns. “A-a relationship. I’ve never—” He doesn’t know how to do any of this.
“I’ll help you. And I happen to know you’re a really quick learner.”
Lucifer can’t resist the naughty smile on his lips. “You’ve no idea how quickly I can learn yet, Detective,” he purrs, leaning in to nuzzle his nose alongside hers.
She laughs softly, and his heart flares with light and warmth at the sound of it. “I guess I’ll find out, huh? But not tonight. Tonight, we sleep. We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait,” he says shyly.
Tilting her head slightly, she presses her lips to his, her fingers curling against his face as her nails lightly scratch his stubble. A contented sound leaves his throat that he has no desire to quell.
“Neither can I.”
At long last, they arrange themselves to get some rest. Lucifer rolls onto his back again and is surprised when Chloe cuddles up to his side, her head on his shoulder. Tentatively, he wraps an arm around her shoulders.
“This okay?” he murmurs into her hair.
She nods slowly, sleepily, her own hand slipping beneath his shirt to rest on his side. “Perfect,” she mumbles.
“Good night, Chloe,” he breathes, reaching over to switch off the side lamp.
“‘Night, Luc’fer.”
The next morning, he wakes with confusion for several reasons. Once he works out where he is and why, though, he wonders where the Detective went. And why she isn’t curled into his side anymore. He’s rolled onto his side, facing the window and thinking about all the possibilities that have opened to them now that they’ve actually talked for once.
Behind him, something flutters—a familiar sound he associates with—
He freezes, eyes widening, as he realizes that, in his sleep, his wings have decided to make an appearance. Starting to panic, and hoping he has time to furl them again before—
“Lucifer?” The Detective’s quiet, tentative voice is filled with an emotion he can’t quite name, though his mind identifies it as fear and panic. He wants to say something, to turn and tell her it’s okay, that he would never hurt her—
“Your wings are beautiful.”
What...?