2. Two

“What about this?”

Trixie, who is sitting on Chloe’s bed with her back against the headboard, looks up from the sketchpad in her lap. Chloe holds her arms out and spins to show off her outfit. When she turns back around, she’s just in time to see Trixie crinkle her nose. 

“Didn’t you wear that to parent-teacher conferences?”

Chloe frowns. “Did I?”

“Yeah. Because when you got home Daddy said the sweater made Mr. Mullins want you real bad.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows. “You heard that?”

Trixie grins. “I hear everything.”

“Great,” Chloe mutters. She needs to tell Dan they’ll have to be more careful about having adult conversations in Trixie’s earshot. “So is that a no on the sweater?”

“No,” Trixie confirms. And then she tilts her head. “Can I pick one?”

Chloe gestures at her closet. “Go for it. You can’t do any worse than I am.”

Trixie scrambles off the bed. Chloe sets her hand on Trixie’s head as she passes, smiling down at her daughter, and then wanders over to the bed. She pulls the sketchpad closer to her and then smiles. Trixie’s drawings have come a long way since the colorful crayon masterpieces that are displayed downstairs. She prefers colored pencils over crayons these days. And Chloe is probably biased, but she thinks they’re pretty good. Her daughter could have a future as an artist. 

“Hey Monkey?” she calls.

“Yeah?” Trixie says, her voice muffled from inside the closet. 

“Your drawings are getting really good. Do you think you might want to be an artist when you grow up?”

“Maybe,” Trixie says. “But I might want to be a forensic scientist like Ella too.”

Chloe smiles. That explains why Trixie is drawing Ella in her forensics jacket with a camera in her hand. “When you’re finished with this one, we can give it to Ella if you want. I’m sure she’d love it. She might even hang it up in her lab.”

“Okay!” Trixie says brightly. Her voice isn’t muffled anymore, and Chloe turns around to find her daughter standing in the closet doorway. “I think you should wear this.”

Chloe lifts her eyebrows. Trixie is holding a black dress with an open back and a plunging neckline. It’s silk and shimmering and very short, and it’s definitely not something Chloe would wear anymore. Especially not to a family dinner where she’s meeting her boyfriend’s dad who also happens to be God. 

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Trix.”

Trixie frowns. “Why not?”

“Well I don’t think Lucifer’s dad is the kind to appreciate a little black dress.”

Trixie grins. “But Lucifer would like it.”

Chloe can’t really argue with that. She’s searching for another excuse when Lucifer himself appears in the doorway. 

“Hi Lucifer!” Trixie greets with her usual enthusiasm. 

“Hello offspring,” Lucifer says with a nod. He glances across the room at Chloe, and his smile deepens. “Hello Detective.” 

“Hey.”

His gaze flickers over her body. When his eyes finally meet hers, he smirks. “Don’t you look smashing.”

Chloe is opening her mouth to thank him—and to ask why he’s got his hands behind his back like a creep—but Trixie speaks first.

“She’s not wearing that.”

Lucifer frowns. “Why not?”

“It’s her parent-teacher conference sweater. It made my math teacher get the hots for her.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer says, shooting a concerned look at Chloe. 

Chloe shakes her head. “No it didn’t.”

“Yes it did,” Trixie argues. She holds up the dress in her hand. “I think she should wear this.”

Lucifer glances in her direction, and then freezes. His eyes widen a little as he takes in the dress, and then a grin that’s positively sinful spreads over his lips. “Oh, yes. I approve.”

“No,” Chloe says flatly.

Lucifer and Trixie give her matching pouts. 

“I am not wearing that to meet your father,” Chloe tells Lucifer. She shoots an apologetic look at Trixie as she crosses the room and takes the dress from her. “Sorry, Monkey.”

Trixie sighs. She looks up at Lucifer. “Maybe we can get her to wear it another time.”

“I have some ideas,” Lucifer says. He’s staring at the dress with a glint in his eye, and when he turns his attention to Chloe, she knows he’s not thinking about her wearing the dress so much as what it will be like to take it off of her. 

Behave, she mouths to him over the top of Trixie’s head. They haven’t told Trixie that they’re together yet. Chloe wants to, but she still remembers the roller coaster ride that was Pierce, and she doesn’t want Trixie to have any reason to feel like she’s being whipsawed by her mother’s love life. 

Chloe turns away from her and steps into the closet to hang the dress back up. 

“What’s behind your back?” Trixie wonders. 

“Inherited your mother’s detective skills, have you?” Lucifer says. 

“I’ve learned a thing or two,” Trixie replies. 

Chloe snorts. She emerges from the closet to see Lucifer produce a small plastic container with a single piece of chocolate cake from behind his back. “For you.”

Trixie gasps. “CAKE!” She whips around to look at Chloe. “Can I eat it now, Mom? Can I eat it?”

“Sure,” Chloe laughs.

Trixie snatches the plastic container out of Lucifer’s hand and bolts from the room, presumably down to the kitchen to get a fork. Lucifer watches her go with a pleased smile, and Chloe feels warmth unfurl in her chest. When he turns back to face her, she smiles. 

“That was sweet of you.”

“I didn’t know if you were going to tell her about your ordeal with my brother,” Lucifer explains. “I thought it might ease her pain.”

He looks guilty. He doesn’t say I wanted to apologize to her for my family being the source of her worry, but Chloe hears the words all the same. 

She shakes her head. “Dan and I decided not to tell her. She doesn’t need to worry more than she already does.” And then she tilts her head. “Are you hiding another piece of cake for me behind your back?”

Lucifer smiles. “Always detecting, aren’t you?”

“It’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

Lucifer chuckles, and then pulls his other hand out from behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of flowers that makes Chloe’s stomach swoop.

“For you,” he says quietly.

She stares at the bouquet, dumbfounded. “You brought me flowers?” 

“Well I know that you humans believe dying plants are a symbol of remorse,” he says as if he thinks the idea is ridiculous. “I still feel badly about everything that happened with my dastardly twin, and I couldn’t very well bring the urchin a present and not you, so…”

Chloe finally tears her gaze away from the bouquet to look up at him. There’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. His body seems tense, almost like he’s waiting for a rejection that he’s certain is going to come. Chloe’s heart squeezes in her chest. She wonders if she’s the first woman he’s ever brought flowers to. 

She crosses the room and takes the bouquet from his hands. He watches her, hope dawning in his eyes as she shifts closer to him and murmurs, “They’re beautiful, Lucifer. I love them. Thank you.”

He exhales as if in relief, and the smile on his lips is so genuinely pleased that she can’t help it—she latches onto his shirt collar with her free hand and tugs him down for a kiss. 

“Well if I’d known all it took was flowers,” he murmurs against her lips.

She smiles. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He chuckles and obliges. He’s a damn good kisser.

She doesn’t mean for it to last. She just wants to tell him that she cares about him in a language he has no problem speaking. But then his hands slide along her hips, and when he pulls her flush against his chest she feels desire flare deep in her body. He holds the curve of her spine in his palm, his thumb stroking over her back, and she drapes the arm that isn’t holding the bouquet around his neck and melts into him. 

She doesn’t hear Trixie’s footsteps on the stairs. Well, she can hear them. She’s not deaf, and Trixie isn’t quiet. But Chloe doesn’t really register what the sound means because Lucifer’s tongue is stroking into her mouth and she wants to...

And then the realization hits her like a ton of bricks, and she shoves Lucifer away from her. He huffs in offense and frowns at her, smoothing his hand over his torso like he’s never been pushed away in his life. He probably hasn’t.

Chloe ignores him and turns toward the hallway, hoping she came to her senses in time. She didn’t. Trixie is standing at the end of the hall with a forkful of chocolate cake halfway to her mouth, which is hanging open in surprise.

“Were you guys kissing? ” she says. It’s the same voice she uses on Christmas morning when she says Are all these presents for me?  

“No,” Chloe says at the same time Lucifer says, “Yes until we were rudely interrupted.”

Chloe shoots him a look. 

Lucifer adjusts his shirt collar. “What? You know I don’t lie.”

Chloe presses her fingers to her forehead and sighs. 

“I knew it!” Trixie says. 

“You most certainly did not,” Lucifer says.

“I most certainly did,” Trixie insists. “Dad says you guys have been in love for ages.” Chloe snaps her head up in surprise, and Trixie grins. “He didn’t know I could hear him.”

Chloe sighs again.

“Well, it appears Daniel does have a modicum of observational skill,” Lucifer says. “There’s hope for Detective Douche’s career after all.”

Chloe narrows her eyes at him. “You’re not helping.”

Lucifer frowns. “Was I meant to be helping?”

Chloe swallows yet another sigh and motions Trixie into the bedroom. “Come here, Monkey.”

Trixie flounces into the room and then up onto the bed, cake in hand. Chloe sets her bouquet of flowers on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the mattress next to her daughter. Lucifer steps into the room as well, but he heads for the full length mirror rather than the bed, and proceeds to begin inspecting his reflection. Chloe rolls her eyes and turns toward her daughter. 

“First of all,” she says, reaching out to put her hand on Trixie’s knee, “I want you to know that I love you very much, and there is nothing and nobody that could change that. You are always going to be the most important thing to me. Always. No exceptions.”

“I know,” Trixie says brightly.

“Good,” Chloe says with a smile. “And if there’s ever anything you’re worried about, or confused about, or if you have any questions that you—”

“Mom,” Trixie cuts her off. “I know. Get to the good stuff.”

“Right,” Chloe says. “Okay.” 

She casts a look at Lucifer, but he’s completely engrossed in smoothing his eyebrows. She really wishes they’d gotten a chance to talk about this before having this conversation with Trixie. She would’ve liked to be on the same page. Not that she thinks they’re not on the same page. They’re together and official and exclusive. He made that clear. But it’s one thing to say that during a post-orgasm haze. It’s another thing entirely to say it to her daughter. 

“So,” Chloe starts, turning back to Trixie. “You know Lucifer and I have been friends for a while now.”

Trixie nods. “Uh huh.”

“And in that time, we’ve gotten to know each other really well. And we care about each other. A lot.”

Trixie grins. “Uh huh.”

“And we um...we recently decided to…”

Flashes of that night in Lucifer’s penthouse when they finally decided to seal the deal are suddenly bombarding Chloe’s mind, and she’s finding it hard to focus on anything except the memory of Lucifer’s head between her—

“Be boyfriend and girlfriend?” Trixie offers into the silence. 

Chloe glances at Lucifer. He’s now rubbing his fingers over the five o’clock shadow coating his jawline. He seems completely unbothered by her daughter’s use of the terms boyfriend and girlfriend. And, again, she’s not surprised. But also...she’s kind of surprised?

“Yes,” Chloe confirms. “That’s...yes. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Trixie smiles so wide it looks almost painful. “This is great.”

Chloe blinks at her. “It is?”

“Well, yeah,” Trixie replies. “My mom is the Devil’s girlfriend! This is way cooler than when Emily’s mom started dating that guy from Tik Tok!”

Chloe frowns. “What guy from Tik Tok?”

“Does it matter?” Lucifer asks, spinning to face them. “I’m infinitely more attractive than anyone on that ridiculous platform.” He grins at Trixie. “Feel free to rub it in the faces of all the other sticky-fingered offspring you see at school that your mother is dating the Devil. Make the little miscreants squirm with jealousy.”

“Okay!” Trixie says.

“No,” Chloe says. “No, not okay.”

Lucifer frowns. “Why not?”

“Yeah, Mom, why not?”

“She can’t tell people I’m dating the Devil,” Chloe says to Lucifer. “Do you know what that sounds like?”

“The truth?” Lucifer says, tilting his head.

“No, Lucifer, it’s not...I mean, it is the truth, but you know people don’t believe you. You know they think you’re just...quirky.”

Lucifer frowns. “I am not quirky. Daniel and his ridiculous stones are quirky. Miss Lopez’s fascination with a fictional species of aliens is quirky. I am the bloody King of Hell. I’m not quirky.”

Trixie turns to Chloe with wide eyes. “Can I tell people you’re dating the King of Hell?”

“Absolutely not,” Chloe says.

Lucifer and Trixie open their mouths in unison to argue with her, but Chloe holds up a hand. “This is non-negotiable,” she says, letting her voice sink into her detective tone. “If she says that to her friends, they’re going to tell their parents and their teachers.”

“So?” Lucifer says.

“So they’re going to start asking questions and digging into our lives. They’re going to want to know why I’m letting my daughter hang out with a guy who claims to be the Devil—”

Lucifer opens his mouth but Chloe keeps talking.

“—and they’re going to think you’re either very ill or very dangerous. CPS has been called for lesser things, and I can’t deal with that. I won’t put her through that.”

Lucifer seems to realize that he’s not going to win this argument, because he presses his lips together and doesn’t argue. 

“What’s CPS?” Trixie wonders. 

“Nothing, baby,” Chloe says. “Just...okay, look. You can tell whoever you want that Lucifer and I are together, okay? But you have to call him by his name.”

“The Devil is my name,” Lucifer says.

Chloe shoots him a look. “No, it’s your title.”

“Well, technically my title is…” He trails off when she narrows her eyes at him. “Right,” he says. “Not relevant at the moment.”

“Why can’t I tell people Lucifer is the Devil?” Trixie asks. “Lucifer tells people all the time.”

“Lucifer is an adult,” Chloe counters. “And when you’re grown up, you can say whatever you want just like he does. But for right now, we need to keep the Devil thing private. It’s nobody else’s business. All right?”

Trixie looks disappointed. “All right.”

“Don’t worry, child,” Lucifer says. “If I ever meet any of your little brethren, you can rest assured I will tell them for you.”

Trixie beams. 

Chloe narrows her eyes at Lucifer. “Do you have to be you right now?” 

“I’m an adult who is permitted to say whatever I please,” he points out, lifting his chin defiantly. “You said so yourself.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and turns back to her daughter. “So you’re okay with this?”

“Yep,” Trixie says. And then she tilts her head. “Does this mean Lucifer is going to sleep over sometimes?”

“Would that be okay with you?”

Trixie casts a glance at Lucifer. “Is he going to make breakfast?”

“Well of course,” Lucifer says. He leers at Chloe. “I have a feeling your mother and I will have worked up quite an appetite by dawn.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe hisses. 

Lucifer doesn’t look even remotely apologetic. Trixie, meanwhile, looks confused. “Does kissing make you hungry?” she wonders.

Chloe has no idea how to answer that question, but she doesn’t have to. 

“Chlo?” Dan’s voice calls from downstairs. “Trix? You guys here?”

“Go tell Daddy we’ll be down in a minute,” Chloe says, ushering her daughter toward the door. 

Trixie scrambles off the bed and bounds for the door. Chloe gets to her feet. She’s opening her mouth to ask Lucifer if he could tone down his leering innuendos just a little bit in front of Trixie, but Lucifer holds up his index finger. 

“May I make a wardrobe suggestion?”

“I’m not wearing that dress, Lucifer.”

“Of course not.” He grins at her. “The only man you’re wearing that dress for is me.”

“Lucifer,” she sighs, but she can’t help but smile a little. 

Lucifer’s grin softens. “You were having a hard time deciding what to wear to dinner with my distant dad and angsty angel brothers, correct?”

“Well, yeah. What the hell are you supposed to wear to meet God? ” 

“One moment please,” Lucifer says, and then ducks into her closet.

Chloe puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling. There’s no way he’s going to pick something appropriate. He’s going to pull out another one of her dresses, or maybe one of her blazers and suggest that she forego the blouse underneath the way she did for that Top Meet mixer. 

“Please tell me you’re not talking to Dad.”

Chloe lowers her head. “Of course not. I…” She trails off when she spots what he’s holding. It’s a black, long-sleeved blouse with white piping along the buttons in the front, the cuffs, and the left chest pocket. She loves that blouse.

“Oh,” she says.

“One of your favorites, correct?” Lucifer says. “Very flattering but also very comfortable. The black makes your complexion stand out. And you needn’t change the jeans or boots you currently have on, which I believe are also your favorite.”

Chloe nods. “Yeah, I...yeah. They are.”

Lucifer smiles. “Excellent.” He hangs the blouse on the closet door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go bury the hatchet in Daniel while you change.”

Chloe nods. “Okay.” 

Lucifer disappears from the room. A beat passes, and then Chloe realizes what he said. 

“Wait, in? ” she calls after him. She bolts toward the door. “No violence in front of my kid, Lucifer!”

Chloe’s first clue that Lucifer is far more nervous about tonight than he’s letting on is that he doesn’t speed on the way to Linda’s. 

She doesn’t notice at first. She’s nervous too, and she’s replaying her conversation with Trixie over and over again in her mind to make sure she handled it well and didn’t leave anything out. Besides, she learned a long time ago that it’s better to ignore Lucifer’s driving if she doesn’t want to give herself an ulcer. 

When Lucifer slows to a stop at a yellow light instead of gunning through it, though, she notices.

She looks across the center console at him. He’s completely still. No drumming his fingers, no bobbing his head along with the radio, no reaching for his flask. He’s always so busy that it’s unsettling. Like staring at someone who’s suddenly been turned into stone. 

A man in a very loud, very ill-fitting powder blue suit strides through the crosswalk in front of the car. Lucifer’s eyes rest briefly on the man, but he makes no remark. That’s when Chloe starts to worry.

“Lucifer?”

He turns his head toward her, but keeps his eyes forward. “Hm?”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You don’t seem all right.”

He finally glances at her. He must be able to see the concern in her eyes, because he finally reanimates. He smiles. “I’m with my favorite human,” he purrs, setting his hand on her knee. “I have no complaints. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Chloe’s stomach swoops. For someone who’s spent a good chunk of their partnership throwing every sexual innuendo in the book at her, he can be very innocently sweet when he wants to be. 

“That’s sweet,” Chloe says, covering his hand with hers. “But I think you’re lying.”

The smile drops off his face, and even if she didn’t know him as well as she does, she’d know he’s offended. “I don’t lie.”

“Fine,” she says, squeezing his hand. She reaches her other hand out and traces her fingers over the side of his face. “You’re strategically telling the truth then.”

The offense seems to deflate right out of him at her touch. He leans into her hand, his eyes closing briefly. She strokes her fingertips over his stubble. He opens his mouth, and she thinks he’s about to tell her how he’s feeling about family dinner, but she’ll never know. The earsplitting sound of a car horn shatters the moment.

She jumps in her seat, startled. Lucifer exhales a growl and shoots a look over his shoulder at the car behind them, his eyes glowing red. Chloe follows his gaze.

“It’s green! ” some asshole in a bright yellow Porsche screams. 

“Does he know this isn’t the only lane?” Chloe wonders.

Lucifer reaches for the door handle. “Someone should teach him some manners.”

“Not you,” Chloe says, curling her fingers around his bicep. The last thing she needs right now is a Devil tantrum caught on traffic cameras. “Just drive.”

“Detective—”

“I got this,” she cuts him off. “We’re going to be late. Drive.”

Lucifer scowls but does as he’s told. Chloe pulls her phone out, finds a familiar name in her contacts, presses the screen, and then lifts her phone to her ear. It rings twice, and then a gruff voice on the other end says, “Jackson.”

“Hey Jax,” Chloe greets. “It’s—”

“Hollywood. I’d know that movie star voice anywhere.”

Chloe grins. “How’ve you been?”

“Living the dream.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Don’t be. Nightmares are dreams too. I’m good though. You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Trix?”

“She’s great. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“Feeling’s mutual. I’ll shoot you a text on my next day off. You still got that sleazy guy as a partner?”

Chloe glances at Lucifer. His perfectly coiffed hair is ruffling slightly in the wind as he drives, which means he’s speeding again. She glances at the speedometer. Yep. He’s speeding. He’s also glaring at the rearview mirror. Chloe glances at the mirror on her side of the car and realizes that the asshole in the Porsche is tailgating them.

“Yes,” she tells Jax. “But he’s not sleazy.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But I don’t think you’re calling me at seven on a Saturday night to catch up. What do you need, kid?”

“You still know people in traffic enforcement?”

“I know people everywhere. You got a plate number for me?”

“I sure do. One sec.” She glances at Lucifer. “Slow down.”

He frowns. “What?”

“Trust me. Slow down.”

Lucifer sighs dramatically but slows down. The guy in the yellow Porsche lays on the horn and continues to tailgate them.

“You better have a bloody good reason for subjecting me to this twat,” Lucifer snarls. He shoots her a look. “You owe me.”

“I’m sure I can think of a way to pay my debt,” Chloe says innocently. 

Lucifer arches an eyebrow at her. 

“You heard me,” she says, unable to hide a grin.

Lucifer’s eyes glitter with desire. “I certainly did.”

Tires squeal behind them, and then the yellow Porsche zooms around Lucifer’s car. 

“Asshole!” the driver shouts, waving his middle finger wildly as he passes. 

Lucifer’s eyes flare red. Chloe traces her index finger around the shell of his ear and watches the Porsche, waiting for it to cut them off. It does, and she gets a clear view of the license plate.

“7XY P290,” she says into her phone. “Yellow Porsche. Headed north on Western Avenue, driving erratically and at least fifteen over. And I’m betting…” She trails off. Sure enough, the yellow Porsche zooms through a yellow light, but the driver isn’t quite fast enough—it’s still red when he’s only halfway through. “Just ran a yellow too late. Was still in the intersection when it was red.” 

“Well how lucky for the citizens of California that you were there to witness his reckless driving,” Jackson says dryly. 

Chloe grins. “Just doing my duty. Can you…?”

“I’ll call as soon as you hang up. It’ll be taken care of by tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Jax.”

“Anything for you, Hollywood.”

Chloe smiles again and hangs up. Lucifer slows to a stop at the light the Porsche ran through. 

“Who was that?”

“David Jackson,” Chloe replies. “He was my training officer. And a friend of my dad’s. He requested to train me, actually. Because of my dad.”

Lucifer nods. Silence descends between them for a moment, and then he says in a voice that she thinks is supposed to sound casual but definitely does not, “So he was your first partner.”

Chloe tilts her head. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Lucifer drums his fingers on the steering wheel. Another silence descends. He wraps his long fingers around the steering wheel, and his knuckles go white as he squeezes it. Chloe is opening her mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he says, “In how many ways?”

Chloe frowns. “What?”

Lucifer looks at her. “You said he was your partner. I asked in how many—”

“I heard what you said.”

“Then why ask again? Are you sure you don’t have a—”

“If you say concussion I’m going to strangle you.”

He blinks at her for a second, and then his lips smooth into a predatory grin that sends a wave of heat through her veins. “Oh, very naughty, Detective. You should know I’m not opposed to a little autoerotic asphyxiation in the bedroom. Or restraints, if you prefer.”

Chloe crinkles her nose. 

“Oh, come now. You’ve never used your handcuffs for something more interesting than arresting a murderer?”

“Um, no. Have you...you know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. The light is green.”

Lucifer hits the gas and the car roars into the intersection. 

“You never answered my question,” Lucifer points out. “Now who’s strategically telling the truth?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes. “He was friends with my dad, Lucifer. He’s, like, twice my age.”

“You’ve expressed interest in older men before.”

Chloe gives him an incredulous look. “When?”

“Pierce was immortal.”

“Pierce was also a lying psychopath, and I had no idea he was immortal so I don’t think that counts.”

“What about me?”

“You’re the world’s oldest teenage boy. You might be a hundred billion years old but I think I’m more mature than you.”

“I beg your pardon,” Lucifer says. “I am not a hundred billion years old.”

“Two hundred billion?”

Lucifer looks like he’s going to have a stroke he’s sputtering so hard. Chloe laughs. 

“Relax, old man,” she says, setting her hand on his thigh. “You’re like a fine wine. Better with age.”

Lucifer scowls at her. “Are you going to answer the question or not?” 

“Jax knows everybody,” Chloe says. “And I mean everybody. Including a ton of people at the traffic center. They’ll track down the asshole in the yellow Porsche and make him pay. Via human laws, but still.”

“So you and,” Lucifer screws up his face in distaste, “Jax never…?”

Chloe sighs. “No, Lucifer. He was my training officer. He walked me down the aisle at my wedding. He’s like...it’s like you and Ella. Would you sleep with Ella?”

Lucifer looks horrified. “I absolutely would not.”

“Well, then, there’s your answer.”

Lucifer seems to consider her words for a moment. And then he covers her hand—which is still on his thigh—with his and smiles. 

Chloe smiles too. 

They hold hands the rest of the way to Linda’s. Chloe can tell that he’s still unsettled, but he seems better than he was before. When they get out of the car and he meets her on the sidewalk leading up to Linda’s house, she reaches for his hand again. He seems to relax when she touches him, and she still remembers what he said in the evidence room earlier. I find your presence soothing. She has a feeling he’s going to need to be soothed a lot tonight. 

She starts up the walk, but he uses her hand to tug her back against his chest and kiss her. She’s surprised, but she likes kissing him far too much not to melt into him almost immediately. It’s a long, lingering, back-arching kiss. When he finally lets her go, she feels a little short of breath. 

“What was that for?” she murmurs.

He grins. “I desired it.”

Chloe can feel herself flushing. “Come on,” she says, tugging him toward the house by his hand. “We’re late.”

He falls in step next to her, smiling down at her. She glances up at him and smiles too. They stop on the front porch, and Lucifer is reaching for the door handle when the door swings open with a creak. 

Linda is standing framed in the doorway, and even though she’s dressed just as impeccably as ever, she looks unmistakably frazzled. 

“Finally,” she groans. And then she launches herself at Chloe, her arms wrapping like a vise around Chloe’s neck. 

Chloe takes a step back from the force of the hug, and Lucifer’s hand presses against her back to steady her. 

“Oh,” she says in surprise. “Um. Ok?” 

She looks at Lucifer over Linda’s shoulder. Lucifer looks just as mystified as she feels. 

“Hi Linda,” Chloe says, patting the doctor on the back. “Nice to see you too.”

“Do I not get a hug?” Lucifer says with furrowed brows. 

“You don’t even like hugs,” Chloe points out.

Lucifer looks offended. “Well I’d like the option, Detective.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Linda breathes into Chloe’s shoulder.

Chloe frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Linda leans back. Her eyes are wide and wild behind her glasses. “God is in my house,” she whispers. “God, Chloe.”

“Is he still wearing that ridiculous cardigan?” Lucifer asks, curling his lip in disgust. “I sincerely hope not. My eyes can’t take such a travesty.”

Chloe shoots him a look that says Hush and then turns back to Linda. “You’re feeling a little overwhelmed?”

“God,” Linda hisses in response. 

Lucifer sighs. “Oh for Dad’s sake, Doctor. He isn’t worth all this. It’s no different than having me in your house. Except I’m infinitely more attractive and a far better dinner companion.”

“It’s very different,” Linda snaps, whirling around to face Lucifer. “He is the god of all creation, Lucifer, and I’m just a human. The last time I angered a god…”

She trails off. She’s wringing her hands in front of her and rocking back and forth a little, and Chloe realizes what’s going on.

“Oh, Linda,” she breathes, reaching out to put her hand on the doctor’s shoulder. “You’re thinking about what happened with Charlotte, aren’t you? Well, goddess Charlotte. Not our Charlotte.”

Linda doesn’t confirm Chloe’s assumption, but her face says it all.

Lucifer frowns. “What the bloody hell does Mum...” His frown smooths out. “Oh.”

Chloe opens her mouth, ready to at least attempt to soothe Linda, but Lucifer beats her to it. 

“Doctor,” he says, his voice dropping low. He puts his hands on her shoulders. “You have my word that my dad will not harm you in any manner. As long as you live and breathe, you are under my protection. And Dad doesn’t harm humans anyway. He’s much too proud he created you to destroy you. All right?”

Linda nods. 

Lucifer offers her a kind smile. “Then let’s go have dinner with Daddy Dearest, shall we? You’re mere moments away from years of new material to needle me with in our sessions.”

Linda smiles weakly. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and then straightens her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s do this.” She turns on her heel and marches back into the house with her head held high. 

Lucifer motions for Chloe to enter after Linda, but Chloe doesn’t move. Lucifer frowns. “Detective?”

She steps into his space, rises up on her toes, and kisses him on the cheek. When she drops back down to her feet, he looks confused. 

“What was that for?”

“Because I desired it,” she says. “And because you’re a good man.”

“Well, technically, I’m not a man. I’m—”

She covers his mouth with her hand. “Don’t ruin the moment.” 

He grins against her palm. She grins back. He curls his fingers around her wrist and pulls her hand down from his mouth. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in ducking into one of the doctor’s spare rooms and—”

“Absolutely not,” she cuts him off. But she laughs as she says it, and his smile makes her heart skip a few beats.

“Well then let’s get this over with,” he says. “The sooner I have you all to myself the better. I was promised payment and I intend to collect.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. She reaches for his hand again, and then leads him through the door. As he shuts it behind them, she looks out over the house from the raised entryway. Linda is disappearing into the kitchen, her blonde head bobbing as her heels click on the floor. And standing in the middle of the living room is…

God. 

He’s not what Chloe expected. 

To be fair, she’s not sure what she expected. In the early days of her partnership with Lucifer, he would talk about his father and she’d imagine an older, smarmier, slightly overweight version of Lucifer. At some point after that case when Lucifer checked himself into a mental hospital, she started picturing him as God Johnson. Ever since she found out the truth though—the whole God, angels, and demons are real and she’s in love with the actual Devil thing—she’s had this weird amalgamation living in her head. In her mind, God looks a little like Lucifer but he’s the strong and silent type like Amenadiel. He has a southern drawl like God Johnson, but he’s youthful and smiling like the Jesus she’s seen in paintings and stained glass windows.

God in reality, though, is nothing like that. He’s dark skinned and his facial hair is a distinguished looking silver. He’s wearing a cranberry colored sweater that makes him look grandfatherly, or maybe like a tenured professor in some insufferably boring subject. He’s standing over Charlie’s playpen and next to Amenadiel. Chloe is immediately struck by the resemblance between them. Not physically. It’s just...a feeling. They have a similar presence. Calming and steady.

She doesn’t get to dwell on the feeling, though, because Lucifer has gone as taut as a bowstring next to her. His hand has stiffened in hers, and when she glances up at him, she doesn’t think he’s breathing. His jaw is clenched, and his face has gone ashen. He’s staring at his father like he’s seen a ghost. 

She doesn’t know what to say to ease his discomfort. She doesn’t think there’s anything she can say. So she reaches her free hand out and presses it against the back of his so that she’s holding his hand in both of hers. 

“Lucifer,” she murmurs, tracing her thumb over his knuckles. 

He looks down at her. His gaze is glassy and unfocused. She squeezes his hand.

“I’m right here.”

His gaze comes into focus. He studies her for a moment, and then he smiles. There you are, she thinks.

“Luci,” Amenadiel calls happily before either of them can say anything else. 

Lucifer gazes at Chloe for another moment, like he’s not quite ready to break eye contact, and then he looks away. “Hello brother.”

Amenadiel smiles. “Hello Chloe.”

“Hey Amenadiel.”

“No Trixie?” Amenadiel asks.

Chloe frowns. She didn’t realize Trixie had been invited. She glances up at Lucifer, a question on her lips, but Lucifer doesn’t look at her.

“I’m afraid not,” he says as he guides her down the stairs. “She and Daniel had big plans tonight. Something about a Disney princess sing-along. I shudder to think that Daniel may end up in a tutu singing Let It Go. Now there’s a hell loop I’ve no desire to be stuck in.”

Chloe snorts. Lucifer smiles down at her as he steps off the final stair, pleased by her amusement. Amenadiel and his father cross the room. 

“Good evening, Samael,” Lucifer’s father says in a deep voice.

Lucifer goes rigid again. “Don’t call me that,” he snarls in a voice that’s drenched with hatred.

Chloe looks up at him in surprise. He doesn’t return her gaze.

His father ducks his head. “My apologies. You prefer that I use your chosen name. I will honor that wish, though you know it pains me.”

“Yes, you’ve made your disapproval quite clear,” Lucifer replies tightly. He turns toward Chloe. “Detective, this is my father.” He glances at his dad. “Dad, this is my Detective.”

Chloe notices his emphasis on my but doesn’t comment on it. She holds her hand out. 

“You can call me Chloe,” she says, trying to be friendly. And then she realizes she just offered to shake hands with God, and her stomach drops. “Sorry,” she says, yanking her hand back. “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful.”

Lucifer’s father smiles. “There’s nothing disrespectful about offering a greeting that’s customary to your culture.” He holds his hand out. “It is an honor to meet you, Chloe. You may call me John.”

Chloe shakes his hand. His skin is warm. Like, really warm. Not in a hot, gross way. More like how the sun feels on a chilly day. All of a sudden she feels like she’s finally found warmth after spending too much time in the cold, and she’s not sure how she ever lived without it. 

She drops his hand like he’s burned her and leans closer to Lucifer. The feeling fades.

“John?” Lucifer repeats with a hint of disdain in his voice. 

Amenadiel puts his hand on his father’s shoulder. “He’ll be John Smith while he’s on earth. It’s one of the most common human names, so he won’t draw attention.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” Lucifer says snidely.

Chloe elbows him in the ribs. “How long will you be staying, John?”

“I’m not quite sure yet,” John replies. “As long as it takes.”

“As long as it takes to what? ” Lucifer asks.

But John doesn’t get a chance to answer. The front door swings open with a creak, and they all turn toward the sound.

Michael is standing in the doorway. He scans the room, and when his gaze lands on Chloe, he grins. She feels her stomach drop straight down to her feet.

He winks at her. “Well look who came to dinner.”