It's strangely disorienting to wake of her own volition. No blaring alarm clock, no overeager 7-year-old jumping in the bed with her to remind her of the hour. It's a rare day off from work, and with Trixie at Dan's for the weekend, there's really nothing keeping her from enjoying a lie-in. Ignoring the sunlight sneaking in through the open bedroom door, Chloe lets herself snuggle back into the covers, fully prepared to appreciate some extra rest.

She barely makes it five minutes. Now that she's awake she can't seem to get comfortable, and she's certainly not going to be able to fall back asleep. This is supposed to be relaxing but instead she's just…tense. It's not guilt - she's not neglecting any responsibilities, and she can certainly recognize that she needs this. She just feels wound too tightly to actually let herself enjoy this.

Chloe considers her options. A long bath might help her loosen up, or a morning run might wear her out. But both require leaving the bed and that sort of defeats the whole purpose. There's one other possibility, however…

It's been a very long time since she's done this. Between her insane job and having a small child running around, she doesn't exactly have a lot of time alone. And apparently she's been neglecting herself for far too long, if this tension she's feeling now is the result. Well, no time like the present...

It takes several minutes to remember how to even start. She chooses something simple - a lazy Saturday morning fantasy with 1980s Rob Lowe. Safe, familiar. Easy.

Chloe pictures the shower scene from The Outsiders, and oh god how old was he even in that movie? Apparently her Mom knew him, so he couldn't be that young, at least. But she's letting herself get distracted. Rob Lowe. Shower.

Her hands begin to move slowly, over her arms and stomach, slipping below her thin top. No rush, she has all the time she needs. But apparently her body has other ideas, and before she knows it one hand has already snuck into her sleep pants, without her consciously doing so. Chloe's not complaining though, muscle memory is a wonderful thing. Her hand is warm and applying just the right amount of pressure as she cups herself over her panties, and some of that restless energy finally seems to leave her, only to be replaced by a different kind of tension - a far more pleasant kind. At least she's finally able to relax back into the sheets, all that tension pooled into a single point between her thighs.

Fingers shift to tease beneath soft cotton, and she imagines them belonging to a broader hand, rougher. In her mind she's about to join Rob Lowe in the shower, and awkwardly kicks off her pants and underwear in a graceless series of movements she mentally corrects for the purpose of her fantasy. She considers slipping out her tank top as well, but right now she's really enjoying the way it's brushing against her peaked nipples, and anyway her hands are pretty busy right now. Two fingers are already sliding inside her as fantasy Chloe steps into the shower.

'What's the rush? We have all morning, love.'

Chloe jolts at that. What the hell? Since when did Rob Lowe have a British accent? With a groan she realizes that somehow her annoying new friend and the constant source of stress in her life has somehow even barged into her fantasies. Where did that even come from?

And of course she objectively knows the man is attractive - he may drive her crazy but she's not blind. Tall, dark, and with that voice to boot? It's just too bad about the personality, she thinks. He's arrogant, crude, and in all likelihood, clinically insane. Even if he is helpful, and strangely more honest than most of the men in her life, he's still a pain in the ass. But somehow he's wormed his way into every other aspect of Chloe's waking life, so it just figures that he'd even come in and ruin a perfectly good fantasy.

Chloe purposely ignores the fact that her fingers have not ceased in their motions since she began her little mental rant listing all of Lucifer's shortcomings. Apparently her annoyance with him has done nothing to dampen her arousal. If anything, she's grown even more slick imagining Lucifer and his stupid face.

Recognizing how messed up the whole situation is, she tries to return to her previous fantasy. Safe. Easy. And apparently no longer satisfying. Chloe manages to convince herself that there's nothing wrong with her imagined scenario, that she simply needs a little more stimulation to get there.

Her trusty rabbit vibe is tucked away in the nightstand in a box labeled 'receipts', which she hopes will keep it safely hidden from prying 7 year-olds. She flicks the on switch to test the vibrations, thankful that at least the batteries are still good. She honestly can't remember the last time it left its box. Right now though even the soft buzzing against her hand is enough to get her excited.

She begins by circling her clit a few times on the lowest vibration setting, and it's easier now to slip back into the fantasy. She imagines her back pressed against cool shower tiles as he finally slides into her, enjoying the pleasant stretch of unused muscles. Another press of a button and it almost feels like a slow thrust, the gentle pulsing of vibrations inside her. Shower sex is never like this, slow and perfect and absolutely no risk of slipping and falling, but that's what fantasies are for. And if her dream lover's eyes are suddenly brown instead of blue, his voice deeper as he holds her up with deceptive strength, well then, it's not real anyway. She's so lost in her thoughts that she misses the sound of the front door closing.

"Detective Decker, it's after 10, where are…well well well. What do we have here?"

With a speed she would not have believed possible until this moment, Chloe simultaneously scrambles to switch off the vibrator and yank the sheets up to cover her chest. Lucifer had probably already gotten an eyeful of her too thin tank top (that and so much more, her brain unhelpfully reminds her), but it's the best she can manage to restore a little of her dignity in the moment. Lucifer himself seems completely unruffled, of course, smugly leaning against the doorframe.

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing here?" Her voice is still too shaky to carry any real threat, and it's clear from Lucifer's expression that he simply finds her indignation endearing. She does her best to ignore the fact that sitting up has shifted the toy inside of her to an awkward angle, the outer arm pressed firmly against where she's most sensitive.

"I came to see if we had a case, but it seems you have everything in hand." He grins, rather infuriatingly, at his own joke. Chloe chooses to ignore that last bit and focus on the absurd reason he's given for intruding on her private time.

"We don't have a case - I'm the cop here and it just happens to be my day off. You'll have to go harass some other detective into living out your little Miami Vice fantasy."

"Detective, I'm wounded! You know I'd never leave you for another officer. Besides, I'm far more interested in your fantasies right now. Just what were you thinking about? Were you thinking about me? Tell me all of your deepest desires."

She's seen him do this a dozen times before - to suspects, to witnesses, to random strangers, most of them attractive. And somehow it always seems to work for him, even though it seems patently ridiculous to her. And right now god himself couldn't get her to admit what she had been thinking about, even by accident. Though to deny it now would only confirm his taunting.

"Well, if you really want to know…" She lets her face soften a bit, fists loosening enough to allow the sheet to reveal her neck and shoulders. "I was dreaming of a house, a miraculous house with doors that locked and prevented degenerate club owners from barging in whenever they pleased." Her glare has returned full force by the end of her speech.

"Then by all means, continue imagining your impenetrable little dream house, or whatever it was you were doing before I arrived."

Chloe wasn't sure what was worse, Lucifer's unsubtle glances towards her covered body, or the way that his voice rolling over the word 'impenetrable' makes her shudder imperceptibly. Well, imperceptibly to anyone other than her infuriating intruder. Her eyes narrow as his grin grows even wider - he obviously noticed. The staring contest lasts much longer than she is willing to admit to, but finally her exasperation wins out over her need to beat him at such a ridiculous game, and she allows her eyes to fall closed with a sigh. Opening them once more, she nods towards the door.

"Well?" Lucifer just shakes his head at the command.

"You're not bothering me." Somehow his smile manages to make him look like an excited little boy at the same time it makes him look like a complete lech. The overall effect is strangely attractive and not at all helping with Chloe's situation.

"Why are you even still here?" She demands.

"I'd think that would be rather obvious, Detective."

"Do you really think I'm about to do…that…with you standing right there?"

"Why not? It might actually help, giving form to the fantasy and all. Help you release a little of that pent up frustration." She shoots him a cold look. "I'm very willing to lend a helping hand. Metaphorically, if you'd prefer. I'll just stand here and…inspire you." Still leaning against the doorframe, he waves a hand over his 'form'.

"The only thing you're inspiring right now is a migraine." She refuses to admit that his offer is sending a fresh wave of heat to pool low in her belly. The idea of him just watching her, spurring her on with that rumbling voice of his, is not entirely unappealing.

"Come on, let yourself be a little bad for once."

If he had actually been daring her to do it, she might have been able to ignore his challenge. But he is merely teasing, trying to see just how far he can push before she draws her gun and forces him out of the room. And she can't deny she's considering it, just reaching behind the mattress to where she's stashed her sidearm. But even with a gun pointed at him he'd still be so smug about the whole thing - not only for catching her in such a unguarded moment, but also for knowing exactly how she'd react to his teasing. And she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction. In fact, she'd like to be the one leaving satisfied, just this once. Even still, she's surprised at what she says next.

"Fine."

Mind apparently already made up, she gathers up her courage for what could prove to be a spectacularly bad idea. But she can't think about that now. Instead she focuses on the renewed throbbing between her legs, how easy it would be to just pick up where she left off. She allows the covers to slip down from where she has them bunched around her neck, easing herself back into the pillows behind her as her hands drift back down to where they toy still remains inside her.

Her eyes flutter shut with a flick of the on switch, but not quickly enough to miss the way Lucifer's jaw nearly drops at the sight of her. 'Be careful what you wish for', she almost wants to say.

She debates whether to put on a bit of a show, or whether to simply keep silent and ignore him completely, trying to decide which would frustrate the man in front of her more. But her body makes the decision for her, reacting automatically to both the renewed stimulation and the added sensation of being watched. She is helpless to prevent the way her hips buck ever so slightly against the toy, or the small noises that escape her lips with each breath. Each movement shifts the covers further down her torso, exposing the hard points of her nipples as they strain against her tank top. But as her free hand shifts up she makes no move to cover herself this time, merely grasping the edge of her pillow as she arches into a particularly strong pulse, legs falling open even further.

It's several long moments before she works up the courage to open her eyes again, but the sight that greets her is not one she had anticipated. Gone is Lucifer's smug grin, something she had always believed was a permanent fixture of his face. In its place is an almost pained grimace, which may have something to do with way he's gripping her doorframe with bloodless knuckles, struggling with the effort to remain at a distance. Apparently his promise to stay there had been genuine, and something in her chest tightens a little at how hard he's working to keep her trust. Like it actually means something to him.

Chloe doesn't really understand Lucifer's obsession with her, why he focuses so much of his attention on her. There's clearly no lack of attractive women (or men) throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. Maybe he just likes the challenge? But no, that doesn't explain risking his own life to save her's. And it doesn't explain the way he's watching her now. It's pretty obvious that if he walked over here right now she wouldn't turn him away, but he keeps his distance, taking no more than what is offered. It's strange to realize that she feels oddly safe with Lucifer. Even though he's absolutely maddening, and probably more than a little deranged, she knows he'd never let her come to any harm if he could help it. If anything, she's more worried about him being a little overzealous in trying to defend her.

So she lets herself enjoy it, the feel of him watching her in this moment, knowing it will go no further unless she asks for it. And she won't, at least not today. But it's heady, having this kind of power over him. How easily she's reduced the normally garrulous man into a strained silence. She had half-expected him to start offering up filthy suggestions the second she had given in, especially considering the non-stop innuendos in every other interaction he's had with her. But this is so much better. His attention is finally focused for once - all on her, this time - and he's no longer hiding behind his clever remarks. Their eyes meet and it's impossible to let go of his raw gaze. Even though her eyes try to flutter shut at the increased pace of her hand and the vibrations, she keeps them open as long as she can, not wanting to miss any of his response. There's no need for fantasy now, not with him standing right in front of her.

His breathing has grown heavy, loud enough in the small room to hear over her own shaky gasps. It's obvious he's straining against his well-tailored slacks, but he makes no move to relieve the pressure, even though at this point he has to be pretty uncomfortable. Chloe takes a moment to imagine what's beneath those trousers, and feels an echoing tension building within her. He's certainly bigger than any of her toys, and the involuntary clench of her internal muscles reminds her she's a bit out of practice.

The rabbit's not even at the highest setting, but already she can feel herself getting close. She feels wound so tight she's almost certain she'll shatter before she makes it over the precipice. Her eyes refuse to stay open any longer, but the image of Lucifer's hungry gaze doesn't leave her. Her whole body is shaking with the intensity of what's happening, and she's lost all control of the sounds coming out of her mouth. She thinks a breathless 'Lucifer' may have slipped out towards the end, and the deep groan she hears in response both confirms her suspicions and sends her shuddering into her release.

She allows herself a few moments to luxuriate in the afterglow. Her entire body feels pleasantly boneless, and it'd be so easy to go back to sleep right now. So it seems her original plan was a rousing success. But Lucifer is still standing there in her doorway, and going back to sleep right now would be rude. Not that he doesn't normally deserve it, but she's feeling generous. She still manages to tug her pajama pants back on before climbing out of bed, because she's not feeling that generous. Nevertheless, his eyes grow wide as she approaches, and she can see the beginning of a smile returning to his face.

"Since you're here, I guess we can look over some ongoing cases. If you're up to it, that is." She teases, even daring to glance down for a moment. Lucifer's smile returns full force.

"Oh I'm very up. For anything." He's practically purring, and even the blatant innuendo doesn't annoy her like it normally would.

"Good, then you can make us breakfast."

"As you wish, Detective."