Author's Note: I wrote this a while ago and initially posted it on Tumblr as a user there had requested this. My blog is nostalgic-uncertainty there if you wanna check it out ^^

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything you recognize.

Poke…

She groaned as she was pulled away from her deeply relaxed, dreaming state in one of the best recurring dream she has at times. The dream never has a proper beginning or ending, it starts off right in the middle of the action and the best part about it is; there is no action. It's just her sat by this beautiful beach, her feet buried in the sand facing the endless and bright blue ocean. Surrounded by silence with the exception of the crashing waves, that were both violent and serene.

That is when she is the most calm she's ever been and it's a shame it's not real. She likes to think it's her minds way of lulling her down, a defense mechanism of sorts. To keep her from burning out.

Speaking of burning, the self-proclaimed former Lord of hell was scheduled to annoy her- I'm sorry meet her today.

Poke

Now much more awake than before, Chloe can feel a light weight pressing on her back and shoulder. With soft giggles breaking through the mechanical hum of the air conditioning. Fighting the smile that was begging to creep up on her lips, she jumps up while shouting out a dramatic "BOO!", throwing the weight off of her and onto the empty side of the bed.

"MOMMY!" The little girl exclaimed in a playfully frightened manner, while her mother is the one giggling now and tickling her tiny tummy.

"That's what you get for messing with your exhausted, hardworking, and very much asleep mother!" She teases with a mocking scolding tone before picking up her phone and checking the time that said it was still two hours until Lucifer made an appearance.

"What's got you up so early today?" She wonders out loud as she gazes at the oddly energetic child lying on her back next to her, it usually takes a whole lot of bribing with pancakes and other food items to get little Trixie out of bed.

The telling grin that graced her little angel's mouth gave her all the clues she had overlooked before. She was excited to see Lucifer, Chloe remembers when she had called the devil for help on this new case Dan had brought her, her daughter was in the room openly eavesdropping on the conversation.

She was just about to discuss with her little one about her increasing fascination with the strange yet endlessly charming tall man, when she was interrupted by her front door flying open.

"Saved by the bell… if he ever made use of it that is" Chloe dryly asks herself while she rolls her dry eyes.

She falls back on the bed suddenly feeling sleepier than ever, she feels the weight of it shift as Trixie runs off to the living room. Chloe hears the ecstatic shriek and the surprised response and lightly chuckles.

"LUCIFER! We were just thinking about you"

Chloe scoffs at her usage of "we", she was still adamant on hooking the two crime fighters up. Her determination reminded the young mother of herself, like mother like daughter.

"Ah well, think of the devil and he shall-" Lucifer's sentence cuts off as he sees a certain blonde enter the room with nothing but a baggy and worn out long black T shirt. The silver tongued player was hardly ever mesmerized by a mortal this way, Chloe was the only exception. The only one he couldn't read, Chloe Decker, his only one. "…appear" He ends up inaudibly whispering.

"Morningstar, glad you could make it. Even when you're several hours early." She quipped staying true to her signature style as she begin to make breakfast, which consisted of sugary heaven such as pancakes or waffles.

Lucifer hasn't been around her much due to the lack of good cases. At least that's what Chloe believes. The truth is after countless meetings and delayed payments with Dr. Martin accompanied by long ass lectures from his lovely bartender and right hand woman Maze, the former ruler of hell decided to pull away from the detective's enchantments.

"Truth be told, I'm rather surprised you called me, detective. Must be quite the difficult case for you to be needing my help" Lucifer mocks with a slight smirk adorning his face while he helps himself to some pancakes with chocolate syrup that successfully sated his sweet tooth.

They were seated like a family (with the exception of detective douche) and flirting in the form of light and dark banter was their thing, and none of them wanted to have it any other way, no matter how much the young detective tried to deny it.

Chloe sighs and rolls her eyes as she fires back in a heartbeat "I never truly needed your help".

Lucifer challenges her with his amused, but intimidating gaze in response. "Well yes, of course" he shrugs his broad shoulders, the only one sharply dressed in an Armani suit while the ladies at the table are still in their PJ's. "You just keep me around for eye candy" he affirms with a dash of one of his proud, devilish grins.

His antics made Chloe blush on the inside, but she was an expert at hiding it. She wasn't jumping his bones at any given moment and did find him irritating 99.9% of the time, but she wasn't blind. Surely her quick to observe eyes had picked up on his high degree of attractiveness. She missed having him around, though she wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

"Admit it, love. You missed me"

The look shared between them said everything and nothing.

"So, small human. What's your deepest darkest desire?"

"MORE PANCAKES!"

"Ah well, can't really argue with that".

x

It was really sunny day in Los Angeles and Chloe had a pounding headache due to a certain night club owner yapping in her ear about how good she looked right now and how she would look even better tonight with him while he does unspeakable things to her, things he assured she would love of course. As if that made it more acceptable, he really did not take a hint. She would never sleep with him, she would never even make out with him. There is just no way.

"My my detective, even when you're so grim looking on the job" Chloe sighs bracing herself for the punch line. "You still look absolutely delectable" Lucifer openly checks her out while they walk the sidewalks of the city, headed to gather info on their latest suspect.

"Lucifer" even though she's tremendously pissed off, the sound of his name on her lips is one of the few occurrences that always manage to send shivers down the fallen angel's spine "There's a serial killer on the loose preparing to kill another model if we don't get to him first, and all you're accomplishing at the moment is to not do your job and prevent me from doing mine!" Chloe was fuming and all Lucifer could think of was how radiant she appeared, truly exquisite.

Getting her worked up was one of his favorite pastimes, aside from one-night stands (which usually ended up as two-night stands, they always came back for more), alcoholic poisoning level drinking (it doesn't affect him the same of course), and playing the ivories. Coming back to it after his period of abstinence felt so sinfully satisfying, and he reveled in that sort of thing, being Satan and all.

"Your wish is my command detective, I'll be your good little devil from here on out" He placed his hand on his heart as he added "Scouts honor"

"You better be serious about this now, this is a very dangerous case which is specifically why you're here and I'm already wound up tight"

"I can think of ways to remedy that" He purposefully dropped his voice down low and gave her a smothering look.

"Dammit Lucifer, you have me seeing red!" She frustratingly exclaims cheeks flaming red with fury.

"I'll have you know, I love me some red"

"Do you want me to shoot you again?!"

"Oh you wound me, detective"

"Want to make that literal real quick?"

"Kinky, are we?"

"Just shut up and walk, asshole"

x

The perpetrator's name was Francis Freeman, he was specifically targeting female fashion models. He was a tall and scary English fellow with piercing blue eyes and Jason Statham style bald head. Francis would seek them out at high end parties, being a rich photographer and former male model himself. When they would proceed to go home with him, they would never be seen again, until their maimed bodies were recently found by the LAPD in an abandoned warehouse. He was a truly deranged guy to say the least, but had his acquaintances convinced that he was a charming, quiet, and simple man.

After weeks of working on the Freeman case, Chloe Decker had him found and was headed to the site, pushing her car to the limit, heart pounding. This was the one of the hardest cases she's ever had the opportunity of working on and she felt high. This is what she was made to do, the thrill, the danger of it all that's what made her feel alive. Sure, she was a cop to be more like her late father, to work for the law, do the right thing, but she knew she loved the feel of her gun in her hand, the feeling of pride and power that surged through her when she caught the bad guy.

As Chloe parked in one of the empty places outside the killer's apartment, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Before she bolted out of the car, all this hanging around with Lucifer had her feeling weak and inferior. She felt as if she didn't have any true power over anyone, that she couldn't have them spilling their darkest secrets with a mere look and some words, and that her boss was smitten with the well-dressed man just as everyone else happens to be as well. She wanted to prove her worth to them, but most importantly; she wanted to prove her worth to herself. That was exactly the reason why she hadn't called backup, or let her partner know of her whereabouts and plan.

The detective kicked the door open, going for the shock and awe factor. With her flashlight and handgun ready to fire in her grip, she cautiously, yet assertively walked in, the place looked nothing like a home, it was more of a torture chamber. Stretchers with restraints lying around dauntingly staring at her. She gasped at the plethora of chemical bottles, syringes, and sharp, deadly tools of all shapes and sizes waiting to inflict harm on whomever was dumb enough to cross their ways; the dumb one was her at this moment in time. Her heartbeat falters a bit and slows down, when she prepares herself for the worst.

"Why hello there, sweetheart. I don't suppose you have an invitation?" Francis Freeman had a strong London style accent, and when she turned out to face him, he had on a lab coat, and he was sporting a frighteningly wicked smirk that showed of his dimples.

The serial killer had dimples, and he was brandishing a loaded syringe and as he noticed Chloe staring at it with her wide eyes, he added "Oh don't worry, the beds over here are amazingly soft; you'll feel real nice and cozy".

Maybe she should've called backup after all…