She woke up in the middle of the night, heart pounding in her chest and still in a nightmare even though she was awake, Chloe panicked, but reminded herself Lucifer was alive and Trixie was safe. Disoriented, she didn't recognize the masculine, angular bedroom pieces around her or the strange pipes running across the loft ceiling. Where was she and why was she there? In her half-lucid haze between sleep and wakefulness, she called out her daughter's name, hearing the growing panic in her voice.
Then, she remembered everything: the warehouse, telling Trixie to hide, Lucifer drowning as his lifeblood pooled beneath him, gurgling in his mouth and his swift and inexplicable recovery as she pulled her firearm from its holster. Chloe remembered the moment as though it were captured in amber. She lifted the released the safety on her weapon and fired an entire clip into Malcolm before he he crumple to the ground.
Lucifer was alive and Trixie was safe, the slowly-formed thought formed in Chloe's groggy mind and relief calmed the sudden fear that had crawled inside her chest.
The penthouse loft. Why was she at Lucifer's loft? Chloe rubbed her eyes, trying to remember and coming up with nothing. Then, she felt an arm slowly wrap around her waist, make her eyes snap wide open. Freezing in place for several seconds, she heard a deep voice murmur her name.
"Chloe, Love, Trixie is at her grandmother's, remember? Go back to sleep, I'm here," Lucifer murmured drowsily, nuzzling her hair.
Chloe looked over to see she was settled in the crook of Lucifer's shoulder. In his sleep, she couldn't remember why she was in his bed. Slowly, she daringly raised the satin coverlet laying the both in thick, fluffy softness. She worried what she she might not find beneath the bed covering and then she sighed with relief.
"Oh, thank God. I still have my clothes on."
She remember how she'd ended up in Lucifer's bed. . .again. Her car had decided to die a painful death in front of Lux after she and Lucifer had posed undercover as a married couple looking for domestic help in order to bust a human trafficking ring. After the bust, she'd returned to the club to drive home and the ignition didn't move, nothing turned over. She'd called the towing company that she normally used, but the dispatcher said due to backlog there was a two hour delay.
"I just need to close my eyes," Chloe muttered to Lucifer after he'd offered to give her a ride home in his 1962 black Corvette. She had to admit, the man was a self-absorbed asshole, but he played great music and had flawless taste in cars. She realized that she had fallen asleep on his sofa while waiting for the tow truck.
Lucifer had put her to bed. IN. HIS. BED. WITH. HIM. AGAIN.
She peeked under the sinfully soft designer coverlet and wasn't surprised that he was nude. Somehow, that didn't surprise her one bit.
Given just a few months prior, she'd been the naked one and he'd worn pajamas more to protect her her sensitivities verses being one who actually wore pajamas to bed. Chloe knew Lucifer well; he was one for passion, spontaneity and freedom. The first time in his bed had been awkward, but not the familiarity had it's own appeal.
There was something oddly comforting about having the suave, cocky Lucifer naked lying in bed beside her. It was just the absurd, unpredictable type of situation that she'd encounter with him. It didn't involve dirty cops, kidnappings and there was a sense of peace knowing that he was beside her. Even in all of his Luciferness, he made Chloe feel vulnerable and safe simultaneously and that was okay. On the rare occasion when he said her name rather than 'Detective,' she felt cherished.
That took away the final vestiges of her lingering nightmare from her conscious mind, leaving Chloe with a serene, easy feeling. The light of the neon signs blinked in unison, their combined light flooded through the loft windows, bathing Lucifer in rose and blue. He looked so young and peaceful as his chest rose and fell deeply, slowly. To know he inspired that first sense of peace that she'd known after nearly a month of nightmares made Chloe's lips tug upward in a smile.
With Dan in jail and Trixie dealing with the trauma of her kidnapping, Chloe needed some respite and she found it in the arms of womanizer who refused to bed her while she was intoxicated. She gave Lucifer kudos for being only a charming asshole instead of a manipulative, selfish bastard. As Chloe softly chuckled in the dark, Lucifer gently pulled her close to his bare chest.
She felt the warmth of his breath gently in her hair, silently grateful that he was miraculously alive after two bullets to the abdomen. She still couldn't wrap her mind around how she'd seen him bleed out in the warehouse and then when she'd circled around to bring down Malcolm, saw Lucifer in all of his cocky glory and larger than life. Trixie was safe and Lucifer was alive. Chloe snuggled into the crook of his arm as he pulled her closer in his sleep. Needing to feel that he was real, alive and safe, Chloe let her hand ghost across his skin, over his ribs until her fingers brushed along the long rough texture on his back. She felt reality quite well as she ran her fingers over the scarred wounds that reminded her that he was next to her in that moment.
Maybe the scars were ugly in the light of day and she should be repelled by them, but Chloe couldn't see them like that and she knew she never would. He was walking sex wrapped up in designer, couture charm. Mostly, he possessed great inner strength and Lucifer was a survivor. Brilliant and broken, he remained relentless and defiant. In the dark of that moment, Chloe relied that her halfway-to-love confession had crossed into full-love somewhere between the time Malcolm died and the three months that followed. She had never seen that one coming.
Chloe realized she wasn't a perfect specimen of humanity. She had flaws that she didn't want to acknowledge or share with the world, but when she did, that was how she took away their power. Failure and regret haunted her in the darkness, lurking in her nightmares. The only comfort or peace she found was in the awkward absurdity of watching Lucifer sleep in the nude. He was masculine perfection. Chloe forced herself to replace the coverlet so that his body left something to the imagination. Lucifer looked happy and peaceful in while asleep. He looked younger as a slow smile crept across his face in sleep. He'd found a rare moment of contentment and she wasn't about to wake him up from it. He was so breathtaking that Chloe's heart ached with thoughts of his protective gentleness toward her and Trixie since that night in the warehouse.
Warmth flowed through Chloe as she snuggled into Lucifer's cradling embrace. Then,she heard a low, familiar sound that inspired another chuckle form her.
Lucifer snored.
As Chloe drifted back to sleep, she knew that she'd find the strength to wake and face the morning. because of what Lucifer gave her in his bed, snoring louder than a freight train in the middle of the night. This eccentric man had somehow captured her heart when she hadn't been watching. She knew she wasn't alone and the nightmares still lingered, but wasn't the only one fighting them anymore.