Blurred Lines

Summary: "I've seen you naked, you've seen me naked. It's called sexual tension for a reason, Detective. No need to be embarrassed." / In which Chloe and Lucifer discover that vulnerability isn't just skin-deep. Post-1x04. One shot.

Disclaimer: Lucifer is an unwitting participant in whatever my imagination can spit out, and sadly not something I actually own.

A/N: New episode aired last night so I'm a bit late posting this, but oh well. For those waiting on the next update for QPQD, don't worry, it's coming soon… Just got a bit distracted. Enjoy!

There were about a million other places she would rather be. And she'd move on to any one of them as soon as this was done.

When the door swung open, Chloe was at least relieved to see that the inhabitant had deigned to wear clothes today. Though as he stood framed in the doorway, regarding her as probingly as an x-ray machine, she might as well have lefts hers at home.

"A house call, Detective?" Teeth gleamed in the afternoon sun. "My, this is a surprise."

"Why? Because I didn't stage a home invasion like you did?" she returned.

Lucifer's smile only widened as he arranged himself lazily against the doorframe. "Well, I'd invite you in, but I have a feeling I'd get another lecture about blurred lines and whatnot. So," he segued, "to what do I owe the pleasure? Here to play nurse? Apply mercurochrome, give me a sponge bath, that sort of thing? You're wearing a bit too much clothing—oh wait. That's from a film I saw. Not yours, of course. Wonderful little flick, where the young, repressed nurse and her virile patient repurpose several of the medical tools, and then the doctor walks in, and—"

"How is the leg, Lucifer?" she cut in, once again cursing the moral obligation that drove her here, to a level of masochism she didn't even know she possessed.

"On the mend. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over. But you were worried, weren't you?" He leaned forward past the threshold, eyes narrowing as they roamed up and down her form with a diligence that bordered on invasive. Again. "I have to say, I'm finding this doting caregiver bit just as inviting as your hard-to-get standby."

Chloe crossed her arms. "Don't get excited. This is a professional checkup since, you know, I was the one who shot you." Though at the moment, the only regret she had about it was not taking a kill shot.

"And yet, something tells me a home visit wasn't arranged by the lieutenant. Feeling guilty, are we? Grateful that I covered for you? I can work with that."

"Hey," she snapped, "if you think my gratitude is some sort of gateway into my pants, then you—"

"You're at my door," reasoned Lucifer. "I've seen you naked, you've seen me naked. It's called sexual tension for a reason, Detective. No need to be embarrassed. And in lieu of those long showers you're so fond of, it's only natural that you've finally come around to the obvious, far more satisfying alternative."

Chloe shook her head, incredulous. She thought she'd be immune by now, but no; his unlimited gall never ceased to challenge her sanity. "Is this really your latest sales pitch? Because my answer hasn't changed: I'm not sleeping with you."

"Yes, well, on that venture, I believe I've made some progress."

"Oh really? Finally wised up to what's wrong with you?"

Lucifer had the decency to look mildly affronted. "Goodness, no. Had a little chat with Dr. Martin this morning, recounting the finer details of our latest outing. She seems to think—and I wholly agree—that you're finally coming around."

"Coming around," she parroted back.

"To me," he explained unnecessarily. "And you. Together. In bed."

Chloe sensed the trap, but couldn't stop herself from charging onward. "And I'm supposed to just accept the sage advice of your current flavor of the week?"

Lucifer's grin was wolfish. "Do I detect jealousy, Detective?"

Unbelievable. "You're seriously deluded, you know that?"

"Not as much as you, I'm afraid."

"Okay, fine," she conceded, then savored the distinct pleasure of catching Lucifer off guard. Taking advantage, Chloe steered the conversation back on track. "Maybe I am delusional. But only because I actually let you manipulate me into shooting you."

"Blaming the victim, Detective?" he tsked her, already recovered. "Your bedside manner could use a little work. Besides, you're conveniently ignoring the fact that I was just as shocked at last night's turn of events as you were."

Chloe rocked backwards on her heels as his words hit home. Until the wee hours of the morning she had tossed and turned, pouring over every single detail tenfold—the escape from a hailstorm of bullets, the superhuman strength, the monstrous reflection, the blood—but none of the evidence lined up. Not with what he claimed, nor with what she believed—what she wanted to believe. And it only made less sense the closer she looked.

For the first time, Chloe struggled for words. "I—I don't know what I was thinking. I shot you, and you bled. Men bleed, Lucifer, and I was an idiot to let you convince me there was anything else going on."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong." Lucifer pushed away from the doorframe, facing her head on. For once he was forgoing his characteristic flippancy, which she knew from recent experience was a whole new danger unto itself. "You were finally starting to come around to the truth of who I am. Albeit with extreme reluctance, and yes, alright, I admit that the bleeding wound incident was a rather ill-timed glitch, but there you have it."

Once more Chloe was stymied briefly by the truth. Because he was right. She had started to believe in the devil.

But what he considered just a glitch, she considered reasonable doubt. "Whatever. Doesn't matter anymore." She shifted her weight, chin lifting. "Actually, that brings me to the other reason I'm here."

Lucifer's face alighted with renewed interest. "Oh? Caught another case already, did you? Need me to wheedle the truth out of some tight-lipped miscreant? Very well then, where are we off—"

"I came to tell you," she broke in, "that this—you, me, this partnership, whatever—is over. It's done. We're done."

"Are you breaking up with me, Detective?" He sounded strangely eager. "Does this mean that break up sex is on the table? Or on any surface, really, I'm not one to fuss." Chloe chewed her lip, and her silence drew his attention like a lure. "Back to playing hard to get? Tease."

"I'm serious," she burst out. "Last night was a wakeup call. My judgment's compromised, I'm not thinking rationally—"

"Are you saying that I'm affecting you? Progress," he congratulated himself.

"I'm saying," with as much finality as she could muster, "that this isn't working. I'm not your plaything, Lucifer. I'm not a way for you to kill time because you're bored. I am a police officer, and I can't do my job with you screwing with my head all the time."

"You mean with all those distracting, unexplained phenomena and blurred lines?" That damn phrase again, coming back to haunt her like some sort of sadistic boomerang. "You realize you're just digging yourself deeper, don't you?"

Chloe practically mangled her lip in sheer frustration.

Which, naturally, didn't go unnoticed. "For all your moral grandstanding, Detective, I think you do desire me. You're wary of the forbidden fruit, sure—call it occupational hazard—but you're not as immune to its temptation as you'd have me believe. It scares you, doesn't it?"

You don't know what to do with yourself, do you?

"No," she answered, decisively.

"Then why do I detect a hint of fear in your eyes?"

Do I scare you?

She said nothing.

"Afraid that a taste might turn you into an addict?" he probed. "See, I think that you believe it would be a one-and-done sort of deal, and that's the part that doesn't sit well with you."

Like he'd flipped a switch in her brain, Chloe couldn't contain her scoff. Or the comeback that went with it. "Did your shrink put that in your head, too?"

"It doesn't take a fancy degree to know that denial's not just a river in Africa, Detective."

Her eyes shuttered as she mumbled, "Of course."

"Well, there you have it."

His self-satisfied tone forced Chloe's eyes back open. "I meant, of course you managed to make all of this my problem, not yours."

Something had cracked inside her, some thin barrier of self-control she'd thrown up to get through this exchange unscathed. Not that it had been working, anyway. It was abundantly clear that her adversary got off just as much on her restraint as her retorts; and either way, she wasn't interested in feeding his gluttonous ego any more than she already had.

"I'm not going to play your game anymore, Lucifer," she decided. "I'm not going to stand here while you try to bait me or throw around a bunch of therapeutic crap just because you want to get laid and can't take no for an answer. So go ahead, twist my words, make your little jokes, your creepy innuendos, I don't care. I've said my peace. I'm done."

Chloe didn't give him the chance to respond before she whirled around, asphalt crunching beneath her boots as she stormed off.

"And so help me," she tossed over her shoulder, "if you break into my house again, I'll aim for something much more valuable than a leg."

"Detective," he called after her with surprising urgency. "Chloe."

She didn't slow down but Lucifer caught up with her easily, blocking her path. Her attempts to sidestep him were in vain.

"Did it ever occur to you that you might be wrong? That we both are?"

"About what?"

"About the devil."

Despite herself, the tension drained from her body. Her mistake wasn't in being seduced by the low, honeyed voice; it was in meeting the eyes of its speaker. Lucifer was standing so close that they took up her entire field of vision, large and dark and without a discernable spark of mischief. Chloe hadn't seen their likeness since curious fingers skated across the mysterious scars of his back. That memory alone rooted her to the ground.

"Yes, I've made no secret about my quest to bed the elusive, enticing cop. But I've also made no secret of the changes I'm experiencing. The thrill of mortality, the rush of all manner of human emotions…." Sunlight danced across those eyes, bringing to light everything he implied. And everything else. "You never know, Detective. Addictions can run both ways, and this… connection between us could be one more anomaly to add to the pile."

Lucifer was aiming for glib, charming even, but he couldn't hide from her, not with his eyes wide open and his sincerity laid bare before her. More than anything Chloe hated that she knew him well enough to tell the difference. Hated that it was enough to make her hesitate.

But she hadn't come here just to put an end to her dealings the devil. She came to sever ties with the reckless, infuriating man beyond the title.

Summoning the last of her resolve, she told him, "Yeah, well, I'm not going to be a pit stop on your road to self-discovery. You're going to have to get your kicks elsewhere, Lucifer, and leave me the hell out of it."

She shouldered past him so fast that his soft parting words were nearly lost to her.

"Would that I could, Detective."

Chloe quickened her pace, grateful when he didn't stop her again. She didn't want to think about what she might have done if she saw those eyes again.

FIN

A/N: Forgive the slight OOC-ness at the end… Editing on this was a bit of a rush job. In that vein, feel free to kindly point out any mistakes you find. Thanks for reading!