A/N: Okay, so here's my first take on an AU for this fandom. I hope it works out for you guys. This first chapter is shorter, more like a little preview for what I have planned. Future chapters would be longer. Give me a review and let me know what you think so far. I plan for this to be a slow-burn kind of story, so be patient with it. Un-beta'd. I might have a short SMUT piece up in the near future, just to tide anyone over. I hope you enjoy!

I See You

(Working Title)

Another day, another dollar. Except, this dollar came from different hands. This was her first day at her new job. A job that she hadn't decided if she was going to regret. Instead of taking down the miscreants of society, she would be molding their young minds. That was correct. Detective Chloe Decker was now Professor Chloe Decker. That would take some getting used to. It appears those late nights of continuing education really helped when she needed to, abruptly, change careers.

She could still remember the tears streaming down her daughter's face when she was visiting her in the hospital. She had been beaten within an inch of her life by a suspect she was searching for. She had suffered a concussion, internal bleeding, broken ribs and jaw. Her daughter had come to visit after a few days, but she still looked horrible, but Trixie just would not stay away any longer. That broken voice falling from a tear stained face had begged her to stop. To stop being a cop, to stop doing such a dangerous job. Seeing her so broken and so upset had forced her hand. She promised to stop, to do something less dangerous. So, here she was, at the University of Southern California, teaching Intro to Criminal Investigation to a bunch of undergrads. The things you do for your child.

In this job she was far less likely to get shot, or beaten, and it made her daughter happy. She could get used to the slow-pace of teaching. She did, after all, teach a child to talk and walk, so how hard could this be? As much as she hated it, she had gotten the job easily because the dean of the university was an old acting-school friend of her mother's, also, they had seen her movie. She had given up acting at the ripe age of 19. Being young hadn't stopped her from agreeing to a nude scene, and now everyone that had seen her movie had seen her boobs. It either helped or hindered a situation. In this case, it helped. Luckily, most the students she would be teaching would be too young to have grown up with that movie.

She was early, needing time in the large stadium-like room to reduce her nerves. She shouldn't be nervous, but she was. Chasing down criminals, filing the paperwork, interviewing witnesses, and interrogating suspects came easy to her, she was comfortable in that field. Teaching, standing in front of a room, in front of a group of people that really didn't want to be there, was nerve-wracking. She couldn't force them to listen to her, she couldn't threaten them with jail time, all she could do was hope that they would listen and learn something. This was definitely new territory for her.

The podium was sleek and acrylic. Completely see-through. Chloe didn't think too much on it, assuming it was probably a bit cheaper than a more solid piece, however, it did leave her feeling exposed. Any student would be able to see her jeans, heeled boots, LAPD t-shirt, and black blazer. Perhaps it was to give off transparency between teacher and student, the illusion that no one was hiding anything. In front of her, the rows of seats she knew wouldn't be filled, probably just the first three rows with empty seats scattered throughout. She was teaching a morning class, 9:20 am, which was early for the college-aged crowd. She figured there wouldn't be many people looking to take this class, opting for the much later 1:00 pm class that was taught by a more senior professor.

She paced the room for an hour, trying to make herself more comfortable in the foreign environment. She watched as a single, nervous-looking boy walked in, not even looking at her as he found a seat close to the door. It was, slightly, reassuring that he seemed just as nervous as she was. It was ten minutes before the class was supposed to start, slowly but surely students began trickling in, some looking scared, others talking to friends and smiling. A few of them had spared her a glance, but nothing that was more than just a notice. Perfect. She would have to really work for their attention.

With two minutes to show-time, she walked back to the podium, pulling out the teacher's edition of the text, as well as the curriculum. Today was supposed to be an introductory day. Meet the teacher, meet the students, and go over what this course was about. She could manage that. Sweet and simple, perhaps she would let them out early, get on their good side. Bribery always worked with suspects. She had noticed that a few more people walked in, the last closing the door behind them. I guess that is my cue to start?

"Good morning everyone, I know you must be thrilled to be here at this hour," she greeted, forcing herself to look up at the small crowd. There was probably twenty, twenty-five people in the room. She was given a roster of 30, so not a bad turn-out for day 1. She received a few greetings back, mostly grumbles, some just ignored her. Years of child-acting prepared her for such a reaction. "I'm Chloe Decker, Professor Decker, I guess. Welcome to Intro to Criminal Investigation."

Nothing. Not a single noise was emitted from the young minds in front of her. She flipped through her curriculum and planner nervously, unsure of what she was supposed to say to them. Was she supposed to go straight into it? Was she to make them stand up, one at a time, and introduce themselves? No, that was something her daughter would have to do in school, not for a group of 18 and up.

"Until recently, I was a homicide detective with LAPD," she added, noticing the few heads turn up to look at her. That seemed to get, some, of their attention. "Any questions for me before we begin?" She looked around, seeing if any of the heads that looked up appeared interested in learning more about her.

"Why on Earth are you here, then?" an accented voice asked from the far corner of the room. That was surprising. She had expected maybe a question or two about dead bodies, but not about why she was teaching.

She turned to her right, looking for the owner of that voice. Was he British? Her eyes landed on the only person it could have been. Other students were looking right at him, almost in awe, and she couldn't blame them. Leaned back in his chair, one long arm slung across the back of the chair next to him, the other resting on the desk in front of him, hand fiddling with a pen. She first noticed the way he dressed: slacks (she thought), dark grey button down shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms, dark, scruff covering his defined jaw, and dark eyes. He appeared completely put together, perhaps a little older than the others around him, but he was incredibly attractive.

He took her off guard, face still poised quizzically, and waiting for her answer. "Professor?" He couldn't help the small smile forming on his lips. He knew he threw her off. She wasn't expecting a question like that. He was sincerely interested in why a young detective would switch from a life of fighting crime to a life of talking to unappreciative brats.

"Um, yes," she started, inwardly shaking herself. Keep it together. You've seen good-looking men before. "You want to know why I'm here, teaching?"

He chuckled a little, taking his arm off of the back of the chair and leaning on his elbows on the desk, joining his hands together. "Yes, why be here when you could be catching the vile creatures in this city of yours?" Even with a smug grin on his face, he seemed genuine.

It was the accent that was throwing her off. Had to be. She hadn't been expecting a foreign student in her course, that's all. "I needed a change of pace," she replied, looking down at her text and curriculum, flipping through pages absentmindedly.

"You don't seem like someone to run from danger," he remarked, tongue in cheek. She looked back up at him, to those eyes that seemed to be digging into her soul. Who the hell was this guy?

"You don't know me, Mister?" she trailed off, hands going to her hips defensively. She was not about to be intimidated by a student on her first day.

"Lucifer Morningstar," he replied, bowing his head slightly. The other students were staring between them, shifting their gaze from her to him as if watching reality TV right before their own eyes. A few of the girls near him giggled a little, making her want to roll her eyes.

"Really?" she asked, her voice thick with sarcasm. Being in L.A. meant you ran into some interesting people, but that name? Why would you choose that name?

"God given," he said, shrugging his shoulders. He seemed annoyed; it probably wasn't the first time someone questioned his name.

"Okay," she said, squinting her eyes and glaring at him before turning to the front of the class. "So, Mr. Morningstar, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to continue with the course for today." She saw him, from the corner of her eye, hold up his hand, motioning her to continue and leaned back in his seat.

Chloe looked down at her notes and informed the class on the faculty expectations, the syllabus, and the overall layout of the next few weeks. She didn't bring up anything heavy, nothing regarding specific content of the course, she just wanted the students aware of the work due, when it was due, and how to contact her if they had any questions. Luckily, the hour went by smoothly after the somewhat rocky introduction. Typically, a question like that would not have affected her. She would have answered and moved on. His observation was unnerving. How could he tell she didn't really want to leave her job as a detective? How could he see that she liked the fast-paced days and nights working with LAPD?

She pushed those thoughts out of her head. She didn't need to dwell on one student. She had many that needed her attention, and the next class would actually cover content from the text. She turned the lamp off on her desk, the small desk she was given that went in her small office next to the lecture room she shared with another professor. As she walked out the door, she looked at the brass name plate on the wall and sighed: Prof. Chloe Decker. That was definitely different from the Det. Decker that she used to have on her old desk at the precinct.

She arrived home that evening, after spending the remainder of the day working on her next lecture and going from one board meeting to the next. She was alone, Trixie was with her father for the next two days, so Chloe was alone and able to do anything she wanted. She placed her keys on the table, dropping her bag on the ground and walked into the kitchen. She poured herself a large glass of red wine, letting the liquid slide through her mouth thickly. She grabbed a Chinese take-out box from the fridge before sitting at the table, a single light on overhead. So, this is what it would be like from now on: long days of talking, sitting, more talking, answering questions, and then coming home. She shook her head as she took a bite of the cold chow mien, enjoying the sweet and salty taste of the noodles.

After another glass of wine and long, hot bath, she crawled into bed, lying awake for ages. She was tired, but not physically tired, not like she used to be when she collapsed into her bed. This was definitely a change for her. She could get used to it, she knew she could. For Trixie. That being said, it did slightly bother her that Dan got to keep his job, unwilling to stop for their daughter. Someone had to be the adult and make sacrifices for her.

She rolled over, trying to force herself asleep. As she shut her eyes, squinting them closed, a certain pupil popped up into her imagination. A tall body, well-dressed and groomed, dark hair and dark eyes, staring at her from across the room. She forced her eyes open, peering into the darkness. Why was she thinking about him? She shook her head violently, trying to rid her mind of his features, and of the way his smirk made her feel warmer. That accent had been a surprise, a very nice surprise, she thought, chuckling at her ridiculousness. She was thinking about a student while trying to sleep. She really needed to pull herself together. Sighing loudly in the silence of her room, she let her eyes fall closed and her mind go still, thinking about her daughter and the chocolate cake she had promised her.

A/N: Like I said, yes this was short, but future chapters would be longer. I was just wanting to get this idea out there and test the waters. Let me know what you think, suggestions are always welcome! Thanks for reading! Until next time...