Two things inspired this story:

This beautiful drawing by sarma. ( post/185808894439) (link would be in my profile, if I manage to make it work)

And the song "I don't want to set the world on fire" by the Ink Spots. Yes, I have been obsessed with Fallout 3. I just thought the lyrics fit these dorks perfectly.

Chloe knew she should have told something about the wedding to her mother. It wasn't like Lucifer hid the event in his social media (how could she know that her mother had instagram and was mutuals with her husband?), but still, she expected a few months before her mother started the guilt trip game on her for not inviting her.

Of course it didn't matter that it has been an improvised thing, or that Penelope was on the other side of the country hosting a Comic Con show, or that Chloe didn't like big events - her mother took every chance she could to remind her how a horrible daughter she was for not waiting a few miserable days until she could take a plane home and bring her to the altar.

Not that they would ever, ever marry in a church. Fortunately Lucifer wasn't near her in that particular phone call, thanks the heavens, but she still was offended in his stead.

Even now, almost a year after the whole ordeal and having, at last, gotten the hang of balancing Earth and Hell in her life, Chloe found that Penelope Decker was a force to be reckoned with.

"You owe me," her voice was smug, and Chloe could almost imagine her big smile with painted lips, "I want to see you with your new husband all dressed up! Indulge your poor mother for a night."

The Detective knew it wasn't just what it seemed. "All dressed up" for her mother could mean a lot of things, and flashbacks of her time as Penelope's dress-up doll assaulted her mind.

She shivered.

"I don't know -"

Lucifer swinged in and stole her phone, a grin already on his lips. "Of course we will, dear Penelope!" He listened attentively to what the woman was saying from the other side of the line, nodding in the right moments. "I see. Interesting!" something sparkled in his eyes. Chloe was afraid. "Yes, yes. I'll take care of it and will keep you updated to match the theme. Fantastic, darling!" And then he send kisses and cut the call.

Chloe breathed slowly and counted to ten.

"It looks fun," he gave her phone back, shrugging. "The theme sounds… appropriate. Have you told your mother about Hell?"

He knew she hadn't, yet, but the woman had to ask. "What's the theme?"

Lucifer patted her arm, delighted.

"'Greek Gods'! Or, in our case, Hades and Persephone."

Of course, the King and Queen of Hell.

Apparently, 'taking care of everything' meant buying extravagant clothes and hiring a professional makeup artist (a man named Chris with a terrible attitude but a firm hand), all without any of her input. When she asked why he simply said that he already knew her measurements and her tastes in clothes, also promising that it would be comfortable and within what she considered suitable for the public eye. They have been married for a while, counting their time in Hell, but she still narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

Her feelings transformed into fear when she was in her robe, sitting in the enormous bed at the penthouse, with at least three layers of mascara and bold red lipstick on. Or at least that all she could gather, because Chris had been given strict instructions to not let her see his masterpiece or approach the bathroom at any time. Now, once the peculiar man was paid and out of the building, Lucifer had hidden himself in the bathroom and locked the door. He never did that. Lock doors, I mean; because hiding in the bathroom was something he did plenty.

"Lucifer, we are going to be late!" she shouted at the closed door, looking at her bare feet. Her toenails were painted red, but a shade darker than the lipstick.

"You can't rush perfection, darling!" he answered back. Chloe could hear the smile in his voice. "Also, we can be fashionably late."

She rolled her eyes.

"Doing a dramatic entrance is out of the question."

"But love, we are the King and Queen! We are allowed to do that!"

Whatever she was going to answer back was lost someplace in her throat, because it was then when her husband chose to barge into the bedroom, fully clothed. Seeing him wearing all black shouldn't take her breath away like it did then - she had seen him wear what he called 'ceremonial robes' down in Hell a lot of times -, but it was really different to watch him take his Devil persona on Earth. She licked her lips.

"I know what you are thinking, but contain yourself," he smirked, but added an extra sway to accentuate the trail of his cape around him. "There's a difference between 'fashionably late' and arriving at the end of the evening."

"That is if we go at all," she purred as she got up to walk in his direction. He flashed a hungry look and a grin before gently gliding towards his walk-in closet.

"We are going, darling. We promised dear Penelope -"

" You promised."

"- and we shouldn't miss the opportunity of showing off the other in public," he kept talking like she never interrupted. "Now, take your clothes off and I'll help you with this!"

The fact that she needed help to get into a dress raised a lot of red flags in her mind. In the span of exactly five seconds, the woman could feel her soul leave her body, do a somersault and deep dive into her personal Hell before getting back to her.

The last thing she could process was a mass of red silk and chiffon in her husband's arms before her mind disconnected from her body.

The familiar weight of her crown had helped in grounding her the whole car ride. Maybe she should heed Lucifer's advice and take the party like another boring demon gathering, ignoring everyone not worthy of her attention and not being afraid of sharing her opinion. And, above all, show who was boss.

Of course his words weren't exactly those, but she got the meaning. He had been trying to teach her demon ways and customs, how important it was to show strength even when you most lacked it. She was Lucifer's chosen, the Devil's Consort and Queen of Hell. She deserved the respect. She owned the title. The person that ruled Hell by her husband's side was worlds apart from the confused Chloe of the past, who was forced to follow her mother's footsteps and had to endure her childish behaviour.

Chloe fumbled with the encrusted diamonds with tiny stars inside of them, wondering how the Hell would Lucifer justify it in the whole "Persephone" ensemble. It's true that her dress was distracting enough, with layers upon more confusing layers of red fabrics, which surprisingly enough didn't make her look like some kind of crimson Godzilla; that the last thing people were going to see was her unusually bright crown.

She fidgeted with the slit on her right leg. "You'll be fine," Lucifer put a hand over hers and gave her an easy smile, the one that almost made her forget about what was bad in the world.

"I know."

"I'll be with you."

Chloe chuckled. "I know."

They rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way, soft music coming from the radio filling in for the conversation that neither needed to make. When they arrived at the place Penelope instructed, Chloe's heart did a flip. She took a deep breath.

"Let's get this over with."

Her husband stopped her when she was about to open her door. The detective turned to see what he wanted from her, but a horned something was shoved in her face. Where did he get this?

"One more thing, darling."

She took it between her hands. "Are you serious?"

As he presented her his matching black mask, his smile could light up the Sun.

A tiny, childish part of her was ecstatic once they managed to walk to the entrance.

They were half an hour late, but power walking inside like they owned the place, her hand tucked inside his arm and clicking her heels for everyone to notice how high they were, was something she thought only happened in movies.

She was a red fantasy, a flurry of colours dancing with each step like water flowing around her legs, hinting what could be under it with the knowledge that no one in the place could even dare to actually find out (except for her devoted husband, of course). She was Persephone tonight, The one who Brings Death, and she was the Queen of the Underworld.

They presented themselves as such to anyone who asked, not that anyone actually believed the truth. The woman had to agree that it was funny watching people react to the fantastic truth with confused humour.

"Chloe! You look so beautiful tonight!" her mother's voice made them turn from a laughing old man who thought neither noticed his wandering eyes towards her greek chiffon's low cut cleavage area.

"Doesn't she always?" The Devil stole a quick kiss on her cheek before approaching Penelope to greet her.

"Charming young man," she blushed as she gave her hand for him to kiss. Chloe rolled her eyes. Her mother wasn't the only victim to Lucifer's charms tonight, but the elder woman was the only one that knew they were, in fact, married. "You also look fine yourself. It looks better on you than I thought by the photos you send me."

"What can I say? Black suits me," he shrugged as if he didn't have a black hellish wardrobe full of what he called "official devilish regalia".

Penelope turned back to her daughter, giving her a look that always managed to put her on edge. It was like all those directors and producers, the ones that told her she needed shorter skirts and better make-up, who she needed to impress but apparently never did. Her mother always told her she only wanted to prepare her for the world, but with time Chloe knew that the woman was just vain and egoistic, projecting herself in her young offspring.

She made peace with it a long time ago. She didn't need her mother's approval anymore, but it was still annoying to hear her complain about her clothes and pose and make-up.

Not tonight, though. Persephone didn't care a thing about that woman. The Queen was above Penelope Decker's comments and judgy looks.

She smiled with perfectly painted pomegranate red lips. "Thanks for inviting us, mom." Her voice was regal, flat, uncaring; interrupting whatever the other woman was about to say.

Penelope blinked slowly out of the sudden daze and smiled back a bit awkwardly, shaking her head as she walked to greet more guests.

Chloe let the air out of her lungs, reaching out to take Lucifer's hand.

"You are doing great, love." He said, squeezing her hand. Magically, a glass of champagne appeared in front of her face. "Let's mingle a bit, shall we?"

"You mean make deals with these rich and desperate old Hollywood celebrities?" Chloe arched an eyebrow, accepting the drink and looping her arm around his.

"Maybe," Lucifer leaned down to kiss her softly. "A Devil needs his due."

Dancing. It has never been an issue for her - Dan wasn't a dancer (a slow dancer - waltz, tango type), and the only time she had been requested to slow dance was at their wedding, under her mother's insistence. It went pretty well, if she must say so, but every second of it she was waiting to stop being the center of attention before she messed up a practiced step.

It seems, the issue isn't practicing at all, but the guide.

Lucifer made it feel easy, too easy, only requiring from her absolute trust in the steps and twirls and don't look down at their feet.

Not that she could do much with the mask she was wearing, or the overwhelming monstrosity of her (probably expensive) dress. She had accepted going overboard, and she even enjoyed side-eyeing snobby old women judging the height of the slit in her skirt as she played the role of trophy wife to her Devil.

Once the music started to sound and all conversation died, she couldn't resist pulling her husband towards the dancefloor to do a little bit of showing off before calling it a night. In his arms, she felt like nothing could harm her, scare her or even disturb the absolutely silly bubble of tranquility Lucifer formed around her. It always felt like they were the only ones in the world, encapsulated in their own moment.

Of course it was all in her imagination. Life wasn't a Disney movie moment, no matter how her own life became like a fairy tale since discovering that her partner was the Devil himself. In the end, Beauty and the Beast lived happily ever after - only that Beauty became Queen of Hell and her Beast was the most supportive, silly and absurdly in love husband she could find.

Chloe chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Lucifer inquired as he twirled her body in complicated loops like it was nothing. She couldn't follow anything he did, so she just let go her control and did as he guided her to.

"Nothing. I'm being silly."

He narrowed his eyes, taking advantage of a complicated step to pinch her butt while being inconspicuous about it.

Chloe slapped his shoulder softly. "Horns suit you." She changed the subject. Even if he was sure about her love for him, she was positive that the comment about Beauty and the Beast wouldn't sit well with him. And she didn't want to break the moment to explain what she meant with it.

"Thank you," he rolled his eyes, "but it is a one time time thing."

"Would you wear the mask again if I wore mine with you?"

"Are you, by chance, suggesting some kind of roleplay?" he smirked.

She pressed her lips together and controlled the blush until it went down completely. "Absolutely not." Lies. She totally was. Lucifer knew it.

"In that case, I'm willing to be your own private horned Devil again."

Before she could make a comment about the the grin in his lips, the live band changed the song and she recognized it this time. It was an oldie, but she once heard it on the radio and liked it.

"I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart…"

Apparently Lucifer knew the song too. Whispering the lyrics in her ear should be illegal, she decided.

"In my heart I have one desire, and that one is you, no other will do. I've lost all ambition, of worldly acclaim, I just want to be the one you love." He sang softly, squeezing her with his arms. His eyes were deep and dark, pouring the feelings he sometimes had trouble understanding into her soul.

"And with your admission that you feel the same I'll have reached the goal I've dreamed, believe me." She joined him in the next verse, feeling the words deep in her bones. Chloe rested her head in his shoulder, knowing that the moment was way cheesier than what she usually allowed herself to be.

But hey, it was only for tonight. Who can deny if Hades and Persephone slow danced and whispered silly lyrics? That's right, no one. So she decided then and there that these versions of the rulers of Hell did. Damn right.